Several random pages of thoughts I had at work, this morning:
Do you ever feel like you just want to curl up in a corner and die? And I don’t mean when you’re depressed—I’m not—I’m saying you’re just tired, and you don’t really want to cry you just want people to fucking leave you alone for awhile? Yeah. Like that. Not because I’m in a “hate people” mode right now, I’m not that either. I’m just tired.
I’m tired of work. I’m tired of studying, and writing papers, and running my ass around campus all day. I’m tired of getting up early. I’m tired of pep band, and I’m tired of having to worry about drum corps. I’m tired of shitty, expensive food. I’m tired of cleaning. I’m tired of finally feeling really inspired to get shit done and having tons of ideas, and having no time for them. I’m tired of not knowing what to do next, and I’m tired of my mind being an incomprehensible black hole of emotions that swirl around and get spit out all warped in another dimension.
On a higher note, I don’t think I will have my recently-usual pre-Christmas season crash, because at the moment there is too much other shit to occupy my mind. I’m not being a Grinch, or a Scrooge, and the wave of overcommercialization that started in freaking September is amazingly not distracting. I’m sure it helps that I don’t go out to shop much, nor do I watch TV all that often (if at all, really). Usually I get really excited about Christmas and when it finally comes along, I just don’t care anymore, or something. Cleolinda wrote something about the mystery of Christmas, and that’s part of it, go read her journal if you care because she’s a freaking genius. But because I’m working, doing schoolwork, and trying to do drum corps… there just hasn’t been time for Christmas yet, and even now I’m not in the mood.
Another thing—do you ever feel like a douche because of the way your brain works? Sometimes I feel like a fucking idiot and it’s really not even my own damn fault, it’s just who I am, I guess. (Haha.) Why am I saying all of this? Because I just had the thought, “oh, another reason for me to never get married—I like my last name, it’s awesome.” (Saying that because a coworker is recently engaged and on one of the research pads next to this shared computer she’d written out her (?) name different ways, with a new last name and all. It kinda made me laugh, think about gradeschool and that Air Force ad I thought was awesome, with the different ranks instead of names. Very feminist, in a good way.)
As much as I hate being a loner, I’m not going to deny that I really, really enjoy being weird. My family will probably ask what the fuck is wrong with me when I’m older, but I don’t think that’s my problem, really. I’m not doing anything bad. I just see the world differently. I know, you shouldn’t be materialistic. But I enjoy being able to look at things… see how they work, what they are, how they fit together with the rest of the world and how I fit them into my own reality. There is a book I love about strange houses. Once lady has all sorts of antiques and exotic things COVERING her house, and my mom thinks it looks tacky and all. I love it. Same with a guy who has painted his whole trailer, or the guy with the grotto in his back yard. Or the girl in the Princess Diaries, who has pretty much an attic-tower-room. Plus all the crazy secret passages and whatnot I’ve come up with, because there’s nothing I love and hate more than secrets and mystery.
Plus, I’m going to have a ton of cats, and a really funky house both indoors and out. And I don’t mean funky like only-purple-house-on-the-street. I mean funky like not normal shaped, might not even look completely like a house, with a really awesome garden with all sorts of lawn work, too, like fountains and hills and whatnot. Because, afterall, if I’m going to create my own world, I’ve got to do it right. And there’s going to be a stream, and a forest, because we never had a stream on our property and that is essential. As it a treehouse, and private spaces, hidden places, awesomely-old-overgrown places.
And I’m going to have hats. Lots of really awesome hats. Because I love them and I’ve never like doing my freaking hair anyway. So I’m hoping the awesome hat guy is at Winterfair this weekend, because his hats were the SHIT. (I got a green one, it’s fucking awesome. I should have gotten the others as well, because they’re fucking awesome-tastic as well.)
So if I can get away with a job as an Imagineer for Disney, or a set producer, or for JPI or Cost of Wisconsin, I can get away with more weird things at work and less at home. But somehow I doubt I could keep my house normal anyway. *sigh* My family will want to disown me, lol. I’m going to be… no, I am… a little kid just imagining the fuck out of everything. I kind of lost the ridiculousness of little-kids ideas, but it’s sure as heck still not normal to do this, I don’t think. =P I just like making things. I draw some, I write some, but more than anything I always have the urge to make something physical, something with textures. Something with another time.
And so my world is a mix of influences more than I can count… COSI’s Adventure, as well as the rest of COSI; Disney’s stuff, like the Eye of Mara ride; COST’s stuff, like the Tomb Raider ride or their tanks; stuff like you’d find in huge waterparks and hotels and resorts and Vegas; Atlantis; tikis, cats (specifically Mercat, but that’s a whole other shebang); the Haunted Mansion (seriously that shit is crazy awesome); theatricals like Disney rides or the stage tricks they pull for shit like Phantom of the Opera (stage, not movie, but the movie scenes were still pretty awesome-tastic); bats; Da Chicken; James Bond; Indiana Jones; the Pink Panther; mystery novels (generally the Hardy Boys); fantasy novels (Chronicles of Chrestomanci in particular); craft and cultural books (all the ones I read in gradeschool…); costuming; PR; music… it’s so incredibly much, yet I freaking LOVE it. That’s barely scraping the surface… those are just more recent things, since I’ve realized I am completely obsessive about ingesting knowledge.
Fuckdoodles, I love being completely WEIRD.
I feel like James Bond! Or something. Yay work =P (It's the physical nature of what I was doing today... just putting together these metal frames with tiny screws and perfectly fit parts. Reminded me of the Bond movie where they invade Fort Knox and there's all the metal bars around. Is that with Roger Moore? I think so. The hat-throwing guy, innit? Or maybe it was the bomb. Or both. Can't remember.)
My gums hurt. Shit, I have scurvy!
Just kidding. (Scurvy is gross.)
PART VI (written not at work)
BUT! In other news, I finally came up with my webcomic concept, and I have several ideas already and will get started on that this weeked. At the moment Johnny is the only other collaborator but I'm taking applicants, lol. I'll be starting a community and posting them on LJ, because I don't have a website (and probably won't for awhile). Let me know if you know of a suitable webhosting for the pics.
It's going to be called Infinite Impossibilities, but I'm going to abbreviate it by its abbreviated subtitle#1, Brain Soup.