From an Essay

“I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” – Johnathan Safran Foer

I think.

I think I can’t stop thinking about something.

Forcing yourself to think about something else may work for a while, but I think that when the old, undesired thoughts you are trying to override creep back into your thoughts, they are as poignant and undesirable as always.

I think.

I think that people who talk less think more. This is ironic, of course, because it is easy to get the impression that someone who shares thoughts and ideas verbally and often is a deep thinker. I think this is less of the case than we realize.

I think.

I think if we are able to change our thoughts, this enables us to be able to change our attitude. Sincerely. Therefore, I try to think positive often and much. Thinking negatively does nothing but sprout negative results in your mind, body, and attitude. Surround yourself with positive people, and ideas, and positive thoughts will result.

“We are addicted to our thoughts. We cannot change anything if we cannot change our thinking.” –Santosh Kalwar

My Bullets are Utterly Unhelpfully Unnecessary

For the record: I pressed New Blog again. For lands sake.

 •  I keep buying Naked Juice, but I hate it. But I keep thinking I'll find a flavor I like. But I don't.

 •  Here's a confession. As a graphic designer, I can say I am well versed in photoshop. As an artist who needs to know the proper editing techniques for photography, I know what is seen as "correct" as far as editing a photograph.

But I still use Picnik.

Not obnoxiously. I'm not one of "those girls." Just... prettily. It's closing on April 19th though. Sad day.

Anyway, what this is really about is for my love of photo filters. You can gather, then, that yesterday was a very special day for me. I'm sure many of you have heard/observed the news: Instagram is now compatible with androids. 

*fist pump*

My first gram? Nothing could be more appropriate than coffee, right?

 •  Can I tell you something about yesterday? It's horrible. I hit a low point. Don't judge.

At work, 60% of our customers are foreign. Many of them, decently attractive. But, I don't find many boys attractive. This sounds strange. But to me, it's just, I don't know. They're not attractive until you know them. But whatever, yesterday there were two highly beautiful French brothers in the store. Like,  straight out of One Direction perfection. Yes. They were probably 17 and 19, but still. Beautiful. 

You know what comes hand in hand with beautiful foreign boys? Beautiful smells.

So I cleaned out their dressing rooms.

And the shirts they tried on smelled SO GOOD.

So good.

I smelled their shirts.

I'm awful. 

I'm pathetic.

But, my. 

MY.

I'm destined to cat lady-dom. I swear.

Day 4. Peace.

(Oh, PS. I use Batiste dry shampoo. It's like $7 at Ulta.)

Peanut Butter in Muh Hair

 "Keep your head, heels, and standards high."

On the new blogger format, how many of you click "New Blog" for a new post on a frequent occasion? Golly, Blogger. The "New Blog" button is in such a prime location for a new post. And I am not smart enough to realize it might mean an actual blog, not post.

Today was awful. I'm just going to throw that out there. To be melodramatic, I feel like a little piece of my future broke up with me. To be optimistic, I am good at trusting. I wish I could expand, but I'm not letting myself tell a single soul. Which might not be healthy, but in my mind it is best. I am stubborn. Therefore, I have chosen a few lucky souls to vaguely "WEHHH" to.

On a brighter note (and any IRL friends are laughing at me right now, because I have literally talked about this with everyone...) I have discovered the secret to life. Well, hair life. Well, my hair life. It involves two things: Not shampooing every shower and also dry shampoo.

Let me explain. My hair is as thick as the sky is blue.

No... no, that doesn't work.

My hair is as thick as peanut butter.

Ew, wait... no. Nope.

My hair is... really really thick.

So, sometimes I wash it... like, HARD... and it still comes out with crap left at the roots. So I shampoo it a lot because of this. Then I started using a cheap Suave cleansing shampoo, because that's the only thing that gets all the crap out. But that shampoo damages and drys the poop out of my hair. (My adjective selection this evening is prime. Prime.)

So I bought dry shampoo. And it's a miracle. A miracle, folks.

Now I take my daily or every other daily showers and only shampoo maybe once every other shower... and use the dry shampoo when my roots get awful.

It's Tuesday night. I last shampooed Saturday. And I don't feel like ripping off every follicle growing off my head.

#votedryshampoo

I'm loopy.

Thanks, BEDA.

Spring Break = Summer?

So, I'm coming back into the swing of things from a wonderful spring break spent mostly in Nashville, my favorite city in the country. Except I can't find my motivation. All I have motivation to do is eat cupcakes.

Remember Stacy, my best of frans/roommate last year? Well, she goes to school in Nashville now. #convenient

We hung out in the sun, drank lattes, shopped, ate froyo, shopped, went out downtown, line danced, met nice boys, splurged, sat in the sun, slept, spent way too long getting ready, drove around, had Target runs, wore a lot of heels, listened to a lot of music, and had plenty of giggles.

There was this one moment when we were sitting on the porch of a Starbucks with perfect weather. Perfect. We just sat there for hours. Careless. Our only concerns were figuring out how to talk to the non-hipster boy who was sitting by himself at a Starbucks reading his book. Or if we also had time to go to the shoe store. 

Sigh.

Then I headed to Madison, where I saw one of my favorite artists, William Fitzsimmons. He was the kindest of men. When I got to him I simply blurted, "I think you're WONDERFUL." He told me that one one of the loveliest things I could say to him. I will marry him. Beard and all. 

But now, now I have projects and deadlines and work and stresses. Also known as, real life. This is okay. 5 weeks until summer. That's totally doable, right? Thanks for all the lovely comments on my stuff. It means a lot. For real. <3

Oh, My April

"Chilling by the fire, eating fondue. 

I don't know about me, but I know about you."

- Justin Bieber

Well, hello. Here we go.

I'm so rusty.

*flexes fingers*

I'm going to cop out today. Not because I ALREADY don't know what to say, but because I DO have ideas for blogs, but they require a better state of mind. I be sleepy. Therefore, here are some things I've made this semester.

A poster I designed for class.

A boutique logo

and lots and LOTS of advertisements

See you tomorrow! If you're doing BEDA, tell me. Please! I want to know who else is doing it this year so we can all read/share/encourage each other. 

Get Ready

BEDA is a thing tomorrow. And it's happening. Do it with me. Blog errday. I don't care if you never blog anymore, don't have anything to say, or are going through a midlife crisis. LET'S DO IT.

*cue pump up jams*

I Wanna Make You Happy

Drinking: Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps.
Listening: Junk of the Heart - The Kooks
Quote: "Enjoy it. Because it's happening."

Sometimes I wonder why the world seems like a different world than the one you live in every day.

Why other people's lives are more appealing.

Why the world looks different when you are listening to music.

Or see it through a lens.

Or are with different people.

I think a lot of it has to do with things that are new and exciting, aka not routine. But everyone has routine. I mean, some people have very unpredictable lives and such, but to a certain extent... everyone has routine. I, actually, am a big fan of routine. It's a lot less stressful for me. And I feel like, to each and every person, their routine is equally mundane... however exotic it may seem to some. So, I want to be able to keep my "youthful vigor" when it comes to things that become routine.

I try really really hard not to become used to things in Chicago. The first few train rides I took to school I remember admiring everything. Staring out the window, not needing a book or headphones to keep me occupied. While I still rarely read or listen to music on the train, and still use the window as my main form of entertainment, I see less.

I'm trying to become more observant. I think all too often I'm tied up in my own thoughts and my own little world. I look, but I don't see. Remember when you were little and you used to have those activities where you were asked to recall what color sweater your teacher was wearing or what the poster on the wall said? I was never good at those. This past weekend I played Scene It for the first time. They showed a movie clip, of which I watched the whole thing. But I couldn't even answer the question "What color shirt was Dan wearing?"

Look less, see more. A goal.


(Ps. THANK YOU for voting. It means the world. Unfortunately, I didn't win.. but oh well. :] )