Literature Network Forums - Blogs - Day to Day Musings by blackbird_9

First pants... then shoes.

blackbird_9 — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 04:53:05 GMT

I once slept with a guy who has a tattoo saying "first pants, then shoes."
And I am thinking about him right now as I get ready for a random "I'm perfectly fine going out by myself" night. I really am just fine going out by myself. It will be a little weird laughing by myself in a small theater at an improv show, but I'll get used to it. You know how people say that crying by yourself is fine, but laughing by yourself feels weird? Not exactly... Laughing by yourself is only weird if other people are in close enough proximity to see and hear you laugh by yourself.
I really do go out by myself a lot. A lot more than other people anyway. Just two weeks ago I went to a 2:30 movie by myself. Way back when I was a wild crazy groupie, I went to rock concerts on Sunset strip by myself... and that was fun. I also go to museums by myself and drink wine from a thermos. (FYI: thermUs is some kind of bacteria which can withstand high temperatures. I'll be damned; you learn something new every day. Thank you to checking my poor spelling on google.) I think I'll wear plaid pants. I mean, when the hell else are you going to wear plaid pants except for "I'm perfectly fine going out by myself" night? It's a room full of actors for crying out loud. You can dress how you want there.
I should also not change my mind about going... Improv shows can be an educational experience... right? You never know. Just like how I learned about thermus. If I hadn't written this blog, I would not know how to properly spell thermos and would have never known about this particular type of bacteria names thermus. I LEARNED TWO THINGS. I am on a roll tonight.
Fin.

I just typed "New Yeast" instead of "New Year" that bread baking app is getting to me

blackbird_9 — Sun, 06 Jan 2013 19:45:32 GMT

For those who may not know, I am the elusive litnet member who randomly appears once a year, and then goes back into the mists...

The topic of today, is New Year resolutions. I do not have one. I don't really want one either. It's been a few years since I've even considered it for a few key reasons:
1. I don't find a new year to be substantial motivation for doing something. I find that, positive changes or promises I make to myself are more likely to succeed if I have a more psychological and emotional connection to the actual decision making as opposed to some unrelated event.
2. I rarely make life changing promises to myself because I do one of the two contradicting things: I take the promise I made to myself too seriously to the point where I stick too it even if it might have been a poor decision, or I brush the promise off with a "ppfftt, whatever," which then results in a snowball of "whatever"s, confuses me about what my priorities are, and eventually makes my brain explode.
3. I have enough to do without a resolution thank you very much.
4. I don't feel like it, so there.
In the end, I do just fine without resolutions. I take on changes I need to make as the challenges present themselves. I have the option of changing my mind. Some self change is positive or effective for only a certain amount of time, and then it's time to switch to something else. There are always core values which remain a constant in my life and keep me happy and growing as a person; all other changes are dwarfed in comparison. I will always strive to be polite, generous, driven, and unquenchably (<

blackbird_9's Blog Thing

blackbird_9 — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 05:18:31 GMT

Or is the world just whiney today? Nobody seems happy. And now I'm doing my part by whining about the whineyness. :lol:

blackbird_9's Blog Thing

blackbird_9 — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 05:55:03 GMT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJXVP_P0-bY
Video of my pre-ballet class. Are they not the cutest things ever?

blackbird_9's Blog Thing

blackbird_9 — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 01:44:12 GMT

So I found out this week about this guy I used to know committing suicide. He hung himself in the storage unit for Shakespeare at Play and the ballet company. I can't say we were friends so to speak, but we certainly knew each other. I played his wife once in Murder Mystery Dinner, and I saw him at all the S@P performances where we would usually talk for a bit. Despite the tragedy of the incident, it wasn't really a surprise to anyone. He had a drinking problem and had attempted to off himself before. It's just really weird I suppose. Awful and weird. I don't really know how else to describe it. I don't feel much grief as opposed to... shifted in some way.

blackbird_9's Blog Thing

blackbird_9 — Sat, 10 Nov 2007 01:42:04 GMT

I'm not one to complain of boredom, but I've been at work for 9 hours now with nothing to do. Google news got me through part of the day. I'm so bloody up-to-date on current events that ummmmm........ I don't know. I just am. My brain's not working right. I feel bad for whoever reads this. I'm sorry for my ramble. But, hey, I have nothing better to do. Work just isn't a very condusive environment for creating means of entertaining myself other than surfing the internet. I need to run around a bit. I'm so hyper. So much caffine. I wish I could leave and take ballet class... but no. Man, it's cold. I just finished Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories yesterday. It was amazing. I guess. It just always feels good to finish a book.... and then begins the search for another one. Tralala. *sigh*. My brain is imploding. :alien:

blackbird_9's Blog Thing

blackbird_9 — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 01:59:42 GMT

I've given up on Blogger. I will be forever blog-illiterate. I probably couldn't "ping" efficiently if my life depended on it. The whole thing is superfluously complex. While some swear by it, I find myself bound by my familliarity and user-friendliness of lj. It looks like I'll also be posting in lit net forums blog as well. That being said, I've transferred the one and only post I've made in my blogger blog thing.
A Forced Beginning... meh
These are days of constant taunting. This journal being a fine example. It waits, at the bottom of my bookmarks, glaring at me, and reminding me that I have written nothing. Reminding me of how dreadful it is that I can no longer write like I used to and would rather abstain from it all together rather than write some pitiful nonsense which would be so far from enlightening that it just might kill a few brain cells. The more books I read, the more I realize how substandard my wordy sentences are. But, c' est la vie! Right? If Amanda hadn't whacked me over the head a few times, this entry would have ceased to exist, and emptiness would have swallowed this journal whole. She basically said that there's no reality to a journal which is pitched to the hill with awe inspiring insightfulness. I beg to differ, but surrendered none the less; for what reason, I know not. I just hope that forcing myself to write in this bloody thing will provide an outlet if some note-worthy enlightenment should poof into my head. So that being said, I now introduce the not-so-inspiring, dreadful first impression, mind dribble which is the beginning of this journal. Ta-da!