Is there a method, or am I just mad?

Three days off and I feel like a new woman.
Or do I?
Every time I look into the mirror I expect to find someone completely different staring back at me. And when I don't, I give a gasp of surprise and stare harder, creep closer, frown deeper, and try to remember if this was how I looked before or if I have indeed changed without realising. For, if I can't remember how I was previous, how can I say this isn't a new look at present?
It's very mindboggling, and after two hours of staring and puzzling, I give up and pester various people about PS2 and PS3 and Portal, because whoever I am, I still want these things.
I WANT THESE ALIEN/ROBOT BEINGS!
(@_@)v 
Peace.
These are the faeries I declared I would draw every month:

~March

~April

~May

~June

~July

 

 

They're rough and some of them aren't faeries, and problems arise when the picture in my head of the little person I want to draw clashes violently with my pencil that seems to have a mind of its own.

CALM DOWN GUYS! Pencils, pens and all other art supplies should just do what my brain tells them to, and in a perfect world they would all be on telepathic command.

In a perfect world everything would be on telepathic command. And I would be a boy. Because sword fights are just not on if you wear heels, amirite?

It's probably day 285210 since I saw that spider behind my cupboard (hopefully it's dead and rotting and giving off an odour not unlike Morse Code to all it's creepy comrades that I am one tough spider killer [but they're probably sitting in cracks on the ceiling and laughing at my feeble attempts at destruction and swapping gum in various flavours of Fly]. There should really be a class at school dedicated to this, and no one would ever show).

No sightings of slugs for about a week because I've been getting up quite late as I enjoy the luxury of sleeping in until the sun slaps me in the face, which isn't really late, but I'll take it because I have been known to take things when offered, especially in the morning.

[Kinky] ^_0

In another universe, I'm the type of person who squishes their hands in a whole mixing pot of pudding, and hops about the wet grass because I can't be bothered putting shoes on, and makes twister on a sheet for bedtime fun, and compliments an elderly lady on her 'pirate-ship' stairs out the back of her house, and believes fully that the Zombie Game should become a staple activity in every household.

Oh... sorry... that's me now.

 

...but if you're bored then you're boring

Is it too late for cocoa?

"Why are you always walking?"
"Hmm?" I look up from my book and see my pet Dragon staring intently at me for no reason.
"In everything you do, you're always walking away from your house into an adventure. Every time."
I frown at him, "You're talking nonsense. Go back to killing mice or stirring large pots of gluttonous liquid, or whatever it is that you do..."
And that's how it went.
I was unceremoniously interrupted and then accused of undertaking silly fancies. I'm just not sure any more.
More to the present: this one time, I got food poisoning. And it was a horrible, grotesque time in my life where everything was how it shouldn't be. I felt like a house made of matchsticks, and every so often in the day, one match would just fall from the Miraculous Matchstick House that was me. I would think to myself, that took a lot of time and effort, placing that match there, in that exact spot, and now it's gone, and I had a suspicion that the matches were planning this event for some time.
IS THIS HOW IT IS?
WELL, I'LL BUILD MY OWN MATCHSTICK HOUSE, OUT OF THE TOP END QUALITY STUFF AND IT WILL BE LARGE AND FEROCIOUS AND VERY POINTY AT THE ROOF END! VERY POINTY INDEED!
~I think I showed them who's boss.
"I must make the recommendation that you go on meds, straight away."
And there's that Dragon, banging on about assumptions and pharmaceutical therapy. I remember when he was just an egg, inside the egg, and I remember when the egg cracked open and I stared on in amazement as this little scaly head lifted itself out in a dreamy state, eyes half closed and smoke drifting up in tiny rings.
-_- >dreamtime
No need to say that I recovered from the vicious attack on my wellbeing and I surfaced into the world again, slightly dazed that things still continued. Do things really continue on without me?
It is a rather odd notion. It's like a toilet with no toilet paper, or a saucepan without any yummy pasta mixture, or a car without a cup holder for coffee. It's not done.
BUT IT MUST CONTINUE. And I will meander on in my reign of virtuosity, because the world must know.
Because that's how it's done.

...

I saw the stars fall down on you,
and asked you: 'did that hurt?'
you glared right back and scoffed at me,
'You're such a silly skirt'.

'You think I'm just a silly girl,'
I said and gave a courtesy,
'But at least I'm not the one who had,
the stars fall down on me!'
+

Does there have to be an end?

In other news, I washed the dishes with hardly any suds. I was surprised, and thus kept turning the tap on and off so the jet would stream into the little pool of detergent at the bottom of the sink and make the bubbles.
I'm starting to think that this detergent has attitude.
I was all, 'I want meat. Where do I have meat?' and I actually opened the freezer as if I had just gone out shopping and purchased some delicious meat variety. I must say, me and food just aren't good together.
IT'S NOT ME, IT'S YOU. (I think all meat everywhere just heard me think this inside my head, and all manners of cows, chickens, pigs and etc will come and stand around my house as if they've all accepted a jousting challenge.
You'll have to ride me to work today, one cow will say sensibly, as I close the front door behind me and realise I'm trapped on the front step by ample and ample of earthy animals, all staring at me in a bored way.
'But I have a car!' I'll say, gesturing wildly in annoyance at my lovely automobile minding it's own business.
Cars! a chicken will cluck impatiently, they're good for nothing! One drove over my Aunt Mildred!
'Oh,' I'll stare in shock, 'I'm sorry.'
What are you sorry for? She's over there!
And I'll turn to the right and see a little shrivelled chicken sitting on the ground next to the step, one leg stuck out comfortably in front of her and a short stump where the other leg should be sticking straight up in the air.
Gets the lads, she'll squawk, and then continue her knitting. The Niece will look down on her in mild distaste. I'll check my watch and jump at my own lateness. 'FINE, just remember! I ate a five pound pudding last night so I shan't be light!')
Upon thinking about it, maybe I should insult meat out-loud. I've always wanted a cow.

THINGS I DID TODAY:

+ Spent the whole day thinking it was the 10th, and people at work agreed with me, so I wonder who this nicely-wrapped package of memory loss really belongs to?

+ Cooked rice with double garlic, onion and tuna, because I really did want meat.

+ Sunned my toes outside the front of my house and saw a little man amble past, holding a book that he was reading. Every so often he turned a bit more towards me, until he had almost gone past and was almost turned completely to face me, but then he seemed to think better of it and straightened himself and continued on. Either that, or he saw me from his excellent peripheral vision. I'm not sure whether to be alarmed or envious.

+ Watched the cat walk on my car and squish herself through the gap between my car door and the windowpane.

+ Felt like a drug dealer

+ Made 'the switch' with a gnome and entertained a sense of loss that I would be returning home without a gnome in my handbag. I JUST DONT KNOW HOW PEOPLE LIVE WITHOUT GNOMES IN THEIR HANDBAGS. WHAT WORLD ARE WE LIVING IN?!

~And I hope you think of me every once in a while...

What is there to be afraid of in such an ordinary world?

No, I didn't see any slugs this morning, and it saddens me.
FACTS OF LIFE.
We have a random slug invasion, every morning around four or five I go into the kitchen and find at least two ambling around the stove area. I love these slugs, even though they may be different ones every time, even though they vary in size, even though they ooze around the place and the ooze is rather glittery so it's ok, and even though it's not normal to find slugs in a house, it's still a wonderful whimsical event that I have grown used to.
I miss them at times. I miss the faery-ish and magickal and summery vibe around them.
So that's me. ... Moving on!
>_<
I have completed all the practical and theory of my Hospitality course and feel relieved that it's mostly over and I can go back to only using my brain at various times of the year, instead of every day. Now all that's left is for me to ace my placement.
There were times when I felt like I was sinking in quicksand, and I thought, 'where are my goggles for such times? Where is my reading material? This could take hours, days, maybe months. I need at least one Sudoku'. Sadly I realise I'm not equipped enough to handle sinkholes. Fortunately I hear they're hard to come by.
There were times when I wondered what I was doing. Why was I doing everything at once? Having just acquired a second job at the same time as full time study, I wondered why I didn't quit.
But it went on! With or without me being conscious! And I ambled through the days of working and studying and changing outfits and shoes, and packing enormous amounts of sandwiches (because, you know, I have a thing for mass sandwiches of the plain variety) and gradually it all got done.

Book I am reading at the moment:

Get on it.

Is this on repeat?

I gathered my supplies and ventured out into the world.
What does that mean?
Ventured out into the world. Into the wild. Where things happen.
Where are the adventures? I'm not sure, but they happen, and things happen, and day by day life goes past, until you stop on the hill way up above the world and look around. And you've come so far.
~What are you doing on a hill? YOU'RE MEANT TO BE REVISING.
;)

"Where to, Arthur?" I enquired without looking at him.
I heard a sigh and stifled a retort.
"The same place we always go."
I nodded at the cold trees, "Onwards then."
We set off down the garden path and through the little gate, past the letterbox stuffed with yellow envelopes that I should probably open, and we turned left and made our way down the street.
"The stones hurt my feet," Arthur said in a matter of fact voice. I snorted and didn't reply because he had no feet.
The chilly wind rushed at us and we bowed our heads. My blue coat rustled about my legs, and I shivered.
"We're making good time," Arthur made to take out a pipe, but I kicked him and he grumbled something about 'unfair proposals' and such. I ignored him because I had seen something wonderful.
"It's a balloon!" I exclaimed, staring off into the solemn trees to our left. A red one. I scanned the area for people but there were none. "No one plays out here when it's cold," I said, thinking about children trying to play ball while rugged up in puffy winter coats and hats and mittens and scarves and earmuffs. They'd stumble and roll on their padding, let out a muffled scream of joy that no one would hear and forget about it when summer came.
"We're not padded! Let's go!" I only half-turned to Arthur as I said this because I knew he would follow me, and I dashed ahead into the trees filled with excitement.
Can it be real?
I let my feet stumble as I ran.
"WE HAVE TEA AT TWO, YOU KNOW!" I heard Arthur call indignantly, and I laughed. I laughed at him, at his silly voice and his bad habits and his punctuation.
Two doesn't always mean two, I thought. Then I wondered as I saw the balloon bobbing cheerfully at me. I wondered: What is it when it isn't two? Time has no vacancies.
I felt sad about this, but did the sensible thing and forgot about it as I skidded to a halt at the tree housing the balloon. I looked up. There it was, seemingly floating with the wind and I counted the branches in preparation. Seven.
"It's too high."
I looked down and saw Arthur glaring up at it as if I'd just told him he had to climb the tree or else be made to do the washing up every night for a month. Arthur hated housework. He always vanished and re-appeared carrying useless items, claiming he'd gone shopping, when I know he can't ride a bike.
"I'm going up and getting it, so settle down."
"Does this mean I can smoke my pipe?" He asked eagerly.
I thought about telling him no, but he did need something to occupy his time. I could be hours.
"Ok."
He beamed and immediately stuck the pipe in his mouth that made me realise he'd been holding it the whole time. What is this?
"Whatever," I said and hooked my foot on the first branch, "See you next year."
"Hilarious."
I looked up to judge the distance but only made myself dizzy. I stared at the tree bark instead, remembering that I was afraid of heights and they made me fee faint. Very clever.
Nevertheless, I gritted my teeth and started to climb. Amidst the wobbliness of my legs, and the pounding in my head that couldn't possibly be the heart in my chest, amidst my trembling hands and short breaths and constant mutters of profanities, I pressed on. I counted the branches as I went and the fear melted away. By branch four my legs had stopped wobbling and the profanities had subsided to only 'sheminopper' and 'frunknizzle'.
On branch six I dared to look up.
It was the kind of red that screams attention. It was like fire-engine red, maybe even redder, I couldn't tell. I don't study fire engines.
The thin silver ribbon was caught on a little twig. I thought how profound that was. Sometimes in life it is the smallest thing that makes the biggest difference; the smallest thing that changes your direction, breaks your back, makes you smile brightest and leaves you feeling like life is magical.
I guess I loved this twig, in a way.
"Stop thinking stupid thoughts and hurry up!" Arthur shouted making me jolt and I felt my foot slide on the branch.
I gripped the tree tighter and yelled back: "Shut up!" Then I reached out and snatched the ribbon. I felt triumphant as it came free.
"I HAVE IT!" I screamed. I heard a loud noise but didn't look down. Gripping it tightly I made my way down the tree, much quicker then going up, and I jumped the last two branches in smug confidence landing next to Arthur.
"You owe me a new pipe."
"What?" I stared at him, unsure how to take such hostility towards my successful venture. He moved and I saw that he had somehow sat on it.
"Arthur," I said dismally, "This isn't the time." And I smiled the brightest smile I had ever smiled, positively beaming at him.
"You're an egg," he said.
"No," I turned and studied my balloon fondly, "I'm an egg in love with a balloon." Because that's what it was, this great feeling, it was love. The balloon swayed peacefully.
"Right on," Arthur said, trying to sound hip with the times, and he made the peace sign for no reason. Then he glanced at his watch, "Shall we go then?"
"Yes, we shall."
"Thank fuck."
I don't think Arthur likes adventures.
-_-

Did I use the last toilet roll?

Today I tried to find my brain.
~Your brain? Isn't it in your head?
Just go with me...
So I did. I wandered out of my house, very early because I wanted to beat Time at it's own game, and I slowly made my way down the street to a little park, and I followed the winding dirt path into the trees.
I kept an eye out as I wandered past flower bushes and stray prams, and I also kept an ear out because you never know what your brain might sound like. It might be humming slightly, or making weird hiccoughing noises, or even screaming out your name. You just don't know.
Odd thoughts zoomed into my mind while I took this walk. Thoughts like: 'Where did you put your bread this morning?' and 'Do you have enough clean underwear?' and 'Why can't you have a tea party on a cloud?' 'or make could clothing?' 'or live life like a cloud?'
REALLY? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT?
A woman appeared then, while I was trying to figure out what I was doing arguing with myself and who was winning. She appeared a short distance away, leaning against a tree, and I'm sure she didn't just appear, but I'd eaten a lot of that milo cereal that I don't normally eat and perhaps the chocolate overload was playing around with my eyesight? I like to keep an open mind.
So she was standing by a tree, and I slowed down so as not to startle her with my brilliance so early in the morning.
"I have something for you," the woman said suddenly, and I jumped and looked behind me because I had been feeling like a ghost from a different time and thought that she could see right through me.
"Can you see me?" I asked in awe.
She didn't reply, and I felt rather ignored for someone so apparently visible, and I contemplated in the short space of two seconds about just walking past her and playing it cool, but I realised it would be rude to turn away a free gift.
"I will," I said unnecessarily and walked towards her.
This woman looked like a goddess from another realm, and it wasn't just the glowing orb of light surrounding her entire body or the fact that her skin was a faint green colour or even the sight of her body floating three feet above the ground. It was the little flesh-looking tag sticking out of her neck that read: property of the Other Realm.
"Is there really another realm?" I asked excitedly.
The woman ignored me and held out a little purple bottle with some type of label on it, and I said "I've been down the hole, it really wasn't for me," while thinking that I better not insult this kind soul by telling her that the realm was as boring as watching goblins prune their toenails.
"I do not seek your words. I command."
Well, fair enough.
I took the little bottle and read the label. "Prune Juice?"
She nodded slowly while looking into my eyes, as if we were having a romantic moment.
"I really prefer grape," I said politely as the Other Realm woman said, "It is best to be on time."
And I had no fucking idea what that meant, so I thanked her with my usual 'Cheers', slugged the  whole bottle in one gulp, threw it into the trees and went back home.
+
Life is great when you have a mate

Why do my shoes laugh at me?

I started flying way up high,
watching as the world went by,
it's not important any more,
these things that are that I wish you saw.
And like a haze is a haze,
and like I wander through the days
all the meaning slips away
And if it's all a disguise,
that leaves them wondering why,
why can't they see it through my eyes?
But up I soar and so far I soar,
all those little things that I ignore,
playing with shadows and hoping for
a big surprise,
something bright,
a glittering light,
or a bigger stick
to latch it up quick
so the bird wont escape,
and I wont have to play
in it's little game,
as it tries
to give me the slip.
>thisoneatemymittens

Life is fast, and I often feel like I'm either waiting for something or wishing I was waiting. I now know how to set tables like a pro, pour wine, carry and serve plates, make eight types of coffee and a few types of alcoholic drinks, and a little something about olives.
I feel rather full of myself. ^_^
It's all very exciting and new, and my various jobs are also in different stages of newness and enthrallment.
This is my latest musing:

 

He was all 'I want a hat' and I was all 'slow your roll, I haven't finished your eyes..'

Monsters are demanding little shits. Then he made me take five thousand photos and used up all my memory, and I wasn't angry at all because he looked at me with his cute face and massive grin, and I thought, 'just give the little guy a hug and spam your computer'.

>Yes, I believe in miracles. I also believe in robots.

(4_--)