But seriously. As I've mentioned, this gal isn't getting any younger, and the big "Three-Oh" is tomorrow.
Holy SHIT. Really. What the hell happened to the last ten years of my life? I still feel (and behave) like an angsty 19 year old. Wasn't I supposed to have a career and a nice car by now? Have shit figured out? I can't even remember to defrost dinner, let alone update this blog or follow any of my numerous interests with any type of consistency. I'd always envisioned this time in my life differently...
So. My second decade is over. I can no longer pretend I'm a late blooming twenty-something trying to get her shit together. There will never be another chance at getting this right, and I'm dreadfully afraid I'm not going to "get it" and start LIVING my life fully until I'm too old to do so.
So fuck that noise. I'm tired of being tired. Of being mopey and morose at the injustices of the world and where they've led me. (That's a whole other story, dear reader, and one not fit for this blog. But high on my list of things to do is write *that* story in book form... more on that later)
Its time to live. To make my own story, and fight avidly for all I want and more. Sitting here in this disheveled house waiting for something to change (or for the magic cleaning fairy to come) isn't doing me any damned good. Hours tick away, and all of these weary days are written on my face. No more.
I will drink more water, and less coffee. I will make the bed every morning. I will go back to school for SOMETHING. I will sing at the top of my lungs. I will work on a portfolio to get a tattoo apprenticeship. I will write/blog more regularly. I will keep my promises. I will eat my vegetables. I will laugh more. I will see at least 3 concerts this summer. I will excel. I will.
So its the end of my twenties. Its also the start of a new adventure. And the end of apathy, and not living every day to be the person I want to be.
Its also the end of my liver, if my friends and I have anything to say about it. I can't wait for the celebration tomorrow night... its been far too long.
take two. see, I originally penned a post a few hours ago, where I begged forgiveness for yet another hiatus, and waxed poetic on the joys of art and ink, as well as Dwarves and metal music. But the post was lost somewhere in the ether, and here I am, starting from scratch. So bear with me, I'm a bit cranky ;-)
sooo... where was I? ah, yes. art. you see, while I was horribly inattentive to my baby here, I was furiously creating with other mediums. That whole inspiration thing is a bitch, and when I get in its wily grip, its all encompassing. The fruits of my labor are, in my opinion, impressive, and have gotten me thinking (with some encouragement from friends and relatives) to pursue a career as a tattoo artist. This isn't a new goal in the chaotic world of Anti-Stepford... its always been a dream of mine to inflict pain create art with a needle and permanent canvas. Just a dream I tucked in the inner recesses of my brain to collect dust. Well hang on to your feather dusters, I may just jump in that saddle. I have a bevy of willing victims, which tells me something there. Either I'm good enough to be a good tattoo artist, or my friends are reaallllly stupid. (either way, I'm game.)
aside from drawing scantily clad women and ninjas...
I am completely smitten with Pandora. And apparently sludge metal. Well, I didn't know there was a sub-genre... but I can't get enough lately. Looking at all of my favorite music, I'm not surprised - but love that I'm hearing a bevy of new (to me) artists. Of course, being the dweeb queen that I am, I'm a day late and a dollar short to this party. How did I not obsess over The Melvins eons ago? and Neurosis? ahh, well, better late than never ;-) One of my favorite finds? This band:
oh so good. fer serious.
and its funny how life is sometimes... recently I've been reading "The Dwarves" by Markus Heitz (Epic fantasy novel! totally kicks my ass!) and one of the main character's name is Freya. I was a little surprised to see a song of that title by "The Sword"... as well as a song called "How Heavy This Axe". Coincidence? The universe smiling on me? (I'll look to Morgan Freeman's "Into The Wormhole" for that last one)
all I know, is that I don't know much. but everything DOES happen for a reason. of this I'm sure. I don't necessarily believe its the hand of some supernatural deity. or Karma. or fate. no, just one more box in the giant flow chart that is life. choose to grow and live, or die.
Well don't I sound all maudlin?
