Ten Years Ago:
Favorite breakfast cereal:
Grapenuts, hot.
Favorite band:
The Smashing Pumpkins, perhaps a leftover of the teenage crush on Billy Corrigan.
I was:
19
How many tattoos did you have?
One, I describe my process here: http://bethydoll83.blogspot.com/2012/09/not-just-doll.html I had good intentions, but really? I thought like an 18 year old, because I was an 18 year old when it was done.
How many piercings did you have?
One in each lobe
What was your worst fear?
I never really thought of them much at the time.Failure, probably.
Ok, now, at 29
My favorite cereal is now GF Rice Krispies, I still love the Pumpkins, but only the original 5 albums, sort of like I only like Metallica pre haircut,. Only one tat, added in a cartilage piercing at 20---21? so it's 3 now. Failure, those things that terrorize in the dark and need the shadows to hide out in? Liars. Not facing my fear. So of course, it's probably best that I face it.
I blog gluten-free
Showing posts with label musing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musing. Show all posts
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Things That Make Me Say "Get Off My Lawn"
In the world of music, I don't care about genre... I do however, have to say, I don't wish to be "YOLO-ed" (James Bond tells us that one's not necessarily true!) and if I never hear "Tonight, Tonight" (There's, by my count 15 billion songs by that name, and I'm not linking a song I dislike and yet plays so much everywhere I go that it's become an earworm I have yet to shake) by um...Hot Chelle Rae (Google at your own risk, or go hang out at any store, beauty shop, cafe, whatever.) again, I will be absolutely delighted. God, what's wrong with kids nowadays? When I was a kid... (oops, when did I become a cranky old person.)---eh, get off my lawn!
Ok, children. Here's something from my generation (Well, if I'm going to sound like a cantankerous old fart, I might as well have fun with it.)
(Confession: I wasn't acutely aware of the androgynous look as a small child, and have a habit of cocking my head to stare at this... "Why does that woman have a mustache?" Nevermind the lead singer looking sick and having a cigarette burn, that always mystified me.) But the dancing couple is what charms and really catches my eye. Beauty!
See? Happy. Bright. Dreamy. Devil-may-care, perhaps. Ok, fine, not to pull a Tom Cruise, but I'll grab my big shirt and socks. I think it's time to dance.
Ok, children. Here's something from my generation (Well, if I'm going to sound like a cantankerous old fart, I might as well have fun with it.)
(Confession: I wasn't acutely aware of the androgynous look as a small child, and have a habit of cocking my head to stare at this... "Why does that woman have a mustache?" Nevermind the lead singer looking sick and having a cigarette burn, that always mystified me.) But the dancing couple is what charms and really catches my eye. Beauty!
See? Happy. Bright. Dreamy. Devil-may-care, perhaps. Ok, fine, not to pull a Tom Cruise, but I'll grab my big shirt and socks. I think it's time to dance.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Pure Randomness
There's this awful moment that comes when a person with no immune system is attempting to shake off a cold and various "odd ball things"...
Still clearing up my poor head- attempting to wait out the "Used Imitrex, need more, stupid doctor wants tests first" (Thud thud thud says my head)- I sometimes think the shadow of a migraine and peeling your eyeballs open for calls from mother are worse than the Pain Tidal Wave- (Are you actually getting enough sleep? Are you going off caffeine again? Kid, you sound rough- gee, thanks, Mom.) Answers to those: Yeah, yeah, yeah, definitely not my underwear... (Beth, sweetie, do you need a doctor? Me: Huh?) - Are you serious? Hook me up to a caffeine IV, Mom!- and "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I'm sure I really assured her. That I'm sort of not quite "with it" at this point, at least. Waiting out a long wait at a restaurant--- I dragged myself out of bed for sunlight and the occasional visit from Mom, I'll do the same for the relatives from Sweden at the beginning of the month... I managed 18 sugar packets, three glasses of orange juice and half a carafe of coffee before the food came (Blessed food, strawberries and all!) and had a rather odd expression on my mother's face as a reward. I think "Yeah, sure, I'm OK" is translated to "I'll break soon, but I don't want you knowing about it."
Today, I slept like the dead, waking only to watch the sunlight, sunset, and to eat graham crackers--- sad to say, the lovely gluten-free ones I tested in January and made cheesecake crust with in March may have changed formula, or else, I'm just not tasting the honey like I used to.
Not wandering in the night like I accidentally did one day, that's a good thing. Score: 100 points, that wasn't fun. And never again shall my bedtime prayer be "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I"- I think I gave myself ideas. Although I meant it in its' most pure form... "Ok, I can't handle this... you, yeah you, you're omnipotent- you handle this, this human is resting", NOT, "Dear Brain, let us be very literal!"
In good news:
-Relearning braids. So far I manage the basic 3 strander well... hands seem to have calmed down. Will try fish tail next. Never mind that at this point, shoulder-length hair (Or just below) becomes two little paint brushes and "You're so cute," and "Pippi Longstocking, all hail!" get bandied about. Also on the list: God as my witness, even if it's only half my hair and the rest is left long, I will grasp the French braid.
I'm alive & I'm grateful for it, and can be silly.
Still, I've seen too many sad people lately, that freakin' hurts. I keep thinking it must be something in the air.
Still clearing up my poor head- attempting to wait out the "Used Imitrex, need more, stupid doctor wants tests first" (Thud thud thud says my head)- I sometimes think the shadow of a migraine and peeling your eyeballs open for calls from mother are worse than the Pain Tidal Wave- (Are you actually getting enough sleep? Are you going off caffeine again? Kid, you sound rough- gee, thanks, Mom.) Answers to those: Yeah, yeah, yeah, definitely not my underwear... (Beth, sweetie, do you need a doctor? Me: Huh?) - Are you serious? Hook me up to a caffeine IV, Mom!- and "Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I'm sure I really assured her. That I'm sort of not quite "with it" at this point, at least. Waiting out a long wait at a restaurant--- I dragged myself out of bed for sunlight and the occasional visit from Mom, I'll do the same for the relatives from Sweden at the beginning of the month... I managed 18 sugar packets, three glasses of orange juice and half a carafe of coffee before the food came (Blessed food, strawberries and all!) and had a rather odd expression on my mother's face as a reward. I think "Yeah, sure, I'm OK" is translated to "I'll break soon, but I don't want you knowing about it."
Today, I slept like the dead, waking only to watch the sunlight, sunset, and to eat graham crackers--- sad to say, the lovely gluten-free ones I tested in January and made cheesecake crust with in March may have changed formula, or else, I'm just not tasting the honey like I used to.
Not wandering in the night like I accidentally did one day, that's a good thing. Score: 100 points, that wasn't fun. And never again shall my bedtime prayer be "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I"- I think I gave myself ideas. Although I meant it in its' most pure form... "Ok, I can't handle this... you, yeah you, you're omnipotent- you handle this, this human is resting", NOT, "Dear Brain, let us be very literal!"
In good news:
-Relearning braids. So far I manage the basic 3 strander well... hands seem to have calmed down. Will try fish tail next. Never mind that at this point, shoulder-length hair (Or just below) becomes two little paint brushes and "You're so cute," and "Pippi Longstocking, all hail!" get bandied about. Also on the list: God as my witness, even if it's only half my hair and the rest is left long, I will grasp the French braid.
I'm alive & I'm grateful for it, and can be silly.
Still, I've seen too many sad people lately, that freakin' hurts. I keep thinking it must be something in the air.
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