Mirror, Madness, Creep

Random word generators are the inspiration for 64.2% of my blogposts <- (that's a trade secret)

Prepare yourself for a stream-of-consciousness.

1) Mirror:

Call me vain, call me self-absorbed, call me materialistic, but whenever I pass a reflective surface, it is second nature to look into it, smooth over my hair, inspect my make-up, and, on a bad day, convince myself that SOMEONE in the world MUST be uglier than I am.

I was scarred by a mirror once. No, not literally; I have never been pierced by a shard of glass. And no, smart-alecks, I have not been scarred by my reflection hahahaha. Anyways, I have a tri-fold mirror in my bathroom, attached to a cabinet. The point of this tri-fold mirror is to inspect the back of my hair without having to do the two mirror trick, which takes a ridiculous amount of coordination which I lack. One day, I opened two of the three folds, and was calmly brushing through my gorgeously straightened hair when a cockroach popped out at me.
I'm very skittish.
I screamed, naturally, and so my family thought I was being murdered or raped or something. But since it turned out just to be a nasty little cockroach, I was laughed at, generally made to feel silly, as well as mortally afraid to use that handy mirror again without checking to make sure nothing alive was lurking inside.

When I was in Honduras, I looked into a mirror twice over the ten-day period.

You know why it's bad luck to break a mirror? Your reflection shows your soul, and by breaking a mirror, you are marring the reflection, thus DAMAGING your SOUL. Be careful, now.

2) Madness:

I read a book a while ago, called An Unquiet Mind, which chronicled one woman's experience with manic-depressive disorder. Can I just say, that book made me extremely sympathetic with people who suffer from any sort of mental/psychological/developmental disorder, because it truly is not their fault. I can't even imagine dealing with emotions that are constantly on the edge, and I'm a relatively emotional person myself. Having to take medication just to stay stable? That truly is one of my greatest fears. I would not be able to handle it.

Madness is endearing, also. (P.S. I'm using madness as a pretty broad term, here. Be not offended). I am instantly attracted to you. If there was one career path that would deflect me from my current plan, it would be psychology. The brain is ridiculously fascinating, and I love hearing about how people feel and WHY they feel that way. (This is a hint for you to ahem divulge all your deep and dark secrets to me. I won't judge, man.)

3) Creep:

Ahhh, the most overused word ever. Used to describe pedophiles, Facebook stalkers, strange loner kids, trolls, or the tendency of solid materials to morph under the influence of stress (pullin' out the material sciences reference tonight, guys).

I have had experience with creeps. I won't name names, but believe me, I know of you. Creeps are kind of flattering. Whether they are nice creeps or cruel creeps, they obviously want to pay attention to me. I like to think that I have a prototypical enough personality that people are either totally turned off or irresistibly fascinated (I prefer the latter, naturally - insert cheesy winking smiley face here.) You probably feel about the same way, whether you like it or not. You want to be judged, and you either want to destroy someone's judgment with clever come-backs or rebellious acts, or you want to fulfill a good judgment and be just as cool as your Facebook page makes you out to be. Human condition, damnit.

On some writing tip website I stumbled upon, it was suggested that in order to become a better writer, critical of your own work and more concise, you should be a blog troll for a day. You know, creep around different blogs and harshly criticize people's writing, even if you secretly admire it. Point out grammar mistakes, repetition, cliches, stereotypes, anything that could get a few points deducted on a high school paper. However, the site said to criticize one day, yes, but then the next day, go back to the same blog and compliment the writing. Maybe apologize for the past comments, explain your purpose, and force humility upon yourself. Because truly, darling, you never know what words can do. No, they can't break bones, but they can break spirits, hearts, and even the will to live.

Closing statement: Cruelty is like a cigarette. It makes you feel great at first, but then you get lung cancer. Or just a really bad BURN.

The Wonder of Blizzards

I have a vendetta against most fast food. Not only can I eat very little of it, being a flexitarian (word o' the month), but it usually comes from greasy, dirty places with teenaged workers (and, honestly, WHO trusts teenagers?!).

Dairy Queen is definitely one of the worst [especially since they only have one-stall bathrooms - a bad sign for girls, who usually go in herds to la toilette to gossip and such (but then again, who would have anything interesting to gossip about at a Dairy Queen?)]. Last night, the darling staff members at a Dairy Queen in Middle-of-Nowhere, Texas, dropped half of our order on the floor, laughed a bit, and then all of the employees got to work cleaning up the mess. I salute their hygienic practices, but we were still waiting...and waiting...

HOWEVER. Our order consisted of the one thing which Dairy Queen creates as well as our political system creates sleazebags.

Blizzards.
Heaven in a cup.

HALLELUJAH!

So I could wait, because after one bite of that double-fudge cookie dough Blizzard, I had forgotten the long twenty minutes. I mean, Blizzards just taste so good. There are too many flavors for an indecisive person like me, but any flavor I end up with (usually cookie dough!) makes me happy. The combination of tingling taste buds and a sugar high fills me with goodwill for all mankind. 

Interesting, isn't it, how the virtues of one thing can make up for all the vices of others?

ME > you

I warn you, dear readers, that this post will insult you terribly. It is absolutely intentional.

Number 1
 I say,  "Tell me a story about your life."
You say, "Well, when I was in first grade, my Golden Retriever Jackson caught a squirrel in the backyard...my older brother dared me to touch it, so I-"
Me, interrupting, "HAH. WHEN I WAS IN FIRST GRADE, MY VELOCIRAPTOR CAUGHT A GOLDEN RETRIEVER IN THE BACKYARD. WE ATE IT FOR DINNER."

Number 2
You say, "Hey, let's go see a movie or have dinner sometime!"
I say, "HEY, LET'S GO TO A MIND-READER INSTEAD. I'm sure she'll give you half-off."


Number 3
I say, "Let's meet at the frozen yogurt place at 3:00 tomorrow. Don't be late!"
You say, "Alright!"
I NEVER SHOW UP.


Number 4 
I have a pad of sticky notes. I write "I AM BETTER THAN YOU." on all of them. I put them in your notebooks, on your back, on every sheet of looseleaf I loan to you, on your refrigerator, and of course on the window of your car.

Number 5
You have glasses. Or a pretty bow. Or a breakable sculpture in your hands.
I KNOCK IT/THEM DOWN as you struggle to reassemble your life.

Number 6
You address me, "Hey, what's up?"
I give you the finger
OR
I ask, "WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?"

Number 7
You write a blogpost or a deep, meaningful note.
I troll; I send you an edited copy of your writing (lots of "YOU SUCK" "YOUR MOM SUCKS" and "I hope you didn't PAY your baby brother to write this.")

Number 8
You ask, "Am I fat?"
Silence.
I answer, "WAIT, WASN'T THAT A REDUNDANT QUESTION?"

Number 9
I ask, "Is that a new purse? I have one just like it, only it's REAL."

Number 10
You say, "OMG. I am SO excited for Prom!"
I say, "Save your breath. YOU'LL NEED IT TO BLOW UP YOUR DATE."

Whim

Sometimes, it's necessary to recognize the off-beat humor. The sadistic side to life. Bizarre creativity.

"As I sat on the park bench in my Chuck Taylors and Buddy Holly glasses, a cup of coffee in one hand, cigarette hanging from my mouth and a battered copy of 'On the Road' on my knees, I felt I was trying way too hard."

Are those your eyeballs? I found them in my cleavage.

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you were going in the complete opposite direction of where you meant to be going? But instead of just turning around and walking back the right way, you feel the need to check your watch, your phone, mutter something to yourself, or make a large gesture so that nobody in the area thinks you're crazy for randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. 

"They came to tell your faults to me, 

They named them over one by one;

I laughed aloud when they were done,

I knew them all so well before,

Oh, they were blind, too blind to see

Your faults had made me love you more." 

Next time you visit a bookstore, leave notes in your favorite books for future readers.

Rain comes in droves.

The eleventh plague.

It leaps about from one place to another.

Re- creating Alice’s flood of tears.

It pours from the clouds

till the sea is parted.

The people are set free

 to marvel at the rainbow.

"God loves the plagiarist. And so it is written, "God created humankind in His image, in the image of God He created them." God is the original plagiarizer. With a lack of reasonable sources from which to filch -- man created in the image of what? the animals? -- the creation of man was an act of reflexive plagiarizing; God looted the mirror. When we plagiarize, we are likewise creating in the image and participating in the completion of Creation."

"Well, Art is Art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does.
Now you tell me what you know."

"Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enter into the other? So with sanity and insanity."