Tuesday, January 12, 2010

We Meet Once More


The future is too confusing to think about. To look into the world with the eyes of my choosing and to see it in the dimensions and colors I wish it were portrayed are far beyond my uncapable fingers, which are outstretched regardless.

I want so much, yet I know nothing of what it is at all sometimes. What makes me happy. An easy enough question with even easier answers, at least on the surface. Success, adoration, lots of books, and empty books etc.. The list goes on into random silly articles like music boxes, bow ties, unfamiliar words, and old fashioned or out-landish sayings. How does anything of what I like fit into a career though? And of theese things what is really important to me? I think I know the answer but it is not a topic I like to discuss, so I won't admit it. Career is where I like to focus. I fear however, that in all my hoping scheming, and plotting I will get nowhere I wanted to go. It's terrible I think. I feel I will end up alone, save a cat and a big teapot that I sill swear has life presence [probably named Miss Pots], and live stuck in nowheresville Nebraska or some unwelcome ignored place like that.

I want and want and want and blah blah blah. Most the things I wish for are the impossible, it is easier to imagine less real scenarios though than to create and deal with the real ones. I much prefer this. Someday Im going ot have to grow up and get myself together. I just wish it wasn't so soon, so inevitable and so, now.
I'm like the reject of Peter Pan. I want to grow up, just never leave never-neverland.

I suppose things will turn out in the end, at least thats the easiest phrase to end this with. It's actual validity isn't really a justifiable one.

Here's to lonely nights in the slums with cats in Nowheresville Nebraska,

Please- do visit.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Take Two:

Flibbertigibbet-ing continues,

I wonder what all you bloggers write about, I'm in quite a quandary in thinking about this. Eventually, I do hope, this will go somewhere and not sound like rolls of "blabberty blab blab, what the hell did she just say blab-ness." One of my better sentences I think. Clearly I should re-compose my future to write on blogging for...ever....ooooorrr never. [ but shh I never said never]. Blah.

I'm preparing a diploma in art, and hopefully a french and or international studies minor or something. It is difficult to do all these things I want to do. However I do plan to do them. I want to work in museums, and our local museum is re-opening in April which is when my school gets out, and I'm extremely excited about possibly volluneering there. If not I shall work at a tea room! I am determined! hahaha, sigh. I do know I should study more, because good grades mean nothing if my knowledge fails to stay with me......blasmgdmlah mlah mlah mlah. I have a hard time finding the initiative and a much easier job of wishing I had it and were dding it.

OHP! five minutes [not that you can tell a time change in text format] I must stop my steaming tea pot! Then fill my cup with black chai delciousness. [what is a good synonym for delcious, I feel less than intelligent using it now that fergie made that song "fergilicious, and destiny's child had "bootylicious", the word has lost it's charm to me, for certain of this I am.

[spends continued time after dealing with tea-yumnums to look up synonyms]

This is the compiled list of my favorite synonyms for delcious [in case anyone else suddenly shares my random distatste for this previously exciting but now thrown to exile word]

And the candidates are: toothsome, scrumptious, tasteful, nectarous, enticing, exquisite, divine, choice, ambrosial [yay Mt. Olympus], dishy, succulent, tantalizing, and lastly- but not leastly- delectable.

There were several others but I thoguht these were most related to the desired use of delcious, although terms like peachy, spiffy, fetching, and hunky-dory all have their individual and appropriate charms as well.
They can be runner-ups for use in metaphorical situations.

I love words is that so strange, I got myself a calendar for the new year that has 365 days of new words titled :forgotten english! Im beyond ecstatic about this, I might share those with you, if you care as much as I about words. I feel like my language is not exuberant enough for as much as I am talking about lmy fondness for them - at least as the moment stands. OH WELL.

I have no clue what else to tell you just now, other than your mother is a herring and your father smells of elderberry.

With those choice and delectable words I bid you adieu {sp?},
Till tomorrow?
oui, till then.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Salut To You!

The Flibbertigibbet begins,

The point of this blog has yet to be determined. If I can help it I might just keep it that way. The more chaos, the better. Why? It is easier for me to get away with whatever I wish of course!

Faux silver pots are whispering ill names behind me! They mock my silly moment craft of writing! "Hah!" I say to you pot! And "balderdash," and"confusticate you," and "wiigity bigggty boo!" [whatever these mean I do not know, but is this relevant? Not really, no. Then again..What is?! ]
Even relativity is relative! Take that Einstein. [His sneezing of course would probably defeat any argument that made, how dissapointing-this is probably due to the fact that it made no based argument at all.] At least the world may rest at ease when wondering what goes through my mind in hours past my sleep deprivation limit.

Is the world not glad to see what a high School education gets you? Just wait until I get through college. My genius will haunt the backward recordings of awful records that, unkown to you, lick your ears while you sleep at night. A result stimulated simutaneously from trying to escape the horrible memories of recent tea parties with an uppity frill-filled Aunt who was just as a overly affectionate as she was obese. And although you may have yelled and hollered at how awfull this was, she still [with out notice] incessantly pinched your cheeks into swelled tomatoes after shoving them with her special butter-nut cookies [a sour breed of home-made recipees gones wrong] for "princesses at tea only," not realizing you were a little boy, and therfore play very different games than that daughter she never had.
A note of advice I add to those in said predicament : take off the little miss muffet wig she shoved on your head, and she might remember you're not wearing a dress silkened with bows.

Now that you know what you're in for I will go back to my reading of The Hobbit [J.R.R. Tolkein obviously]

I hope you had happy fun brimming your brain with my billowing breadth of stercus tauri. :)

Merry making be with you all, save those horrid few with that aunt, may your night mares be less pinchy and plump,

Yours Truly.