Tawdry - Gaudy and cheap in nature or appearance

I am in a sleazy hotel room. I might go so far to call it a motel room. It sort of reminds me of the studio apartment I lived in the last four or so months of high school. A door, facing I-75; a sort of room with a bed, smelling of smoke; a bathroom area, with a fake set of doors that don't work.

It smells like smoke something awful. I came close to shoving my sheet up my nostrils last night. I am waiting for illicit sex sounds to begin. The tv remote does not work at all. I'm afraid to turn the heat on for fear the smoke smell lingers in the vents.

All this and yet, it feels oddly safe and like home. Even though the curtains have Velcro attached to discourage peeping toms. Even though every small sound elicits fear in the fiber of my being. It's strangely comforting.


Hipsterfication - a word I just made up

When I can't write, for work or pleasure, I tend to make lists. This is a very small list of things I'm currently loving:

Extremely well timed promotion for Paul, which I still haven't decided if I'm seeing. Simon Pegg is so wonderful at exasperation. I react in a similar fashion when anyone questions one of my deep loves.

"That's not Dune! That's blue, it must be a girls book. Are you reading a ROMANCE novel!?" -Brandon

His insight is terrifying and it's HISTORICAL FICTION (with small doses of romance)! My new nerdy friend Mary started talking about these books a few weeks ago and I decided to take a short break from Frank Herbert's world and hang around in 18th century Scotland for a bit. I could explain it as beach reading but I hate the beach. I am genuinely enjoying this book. I figured that this series was newer but was suprised to find the first book came out when I was four. I bought the book before dinner one night in Newport, KY and suddenly it was midnight and I had read almost 200 pages. I've already bought the second book, at a wonderful little shop which brings me to...
Acorn Bookshop. Dear lord. Recently I started a story share with one Pat Roach which has unfortunatly been pushed to the wayside. I set it in a bookshop. It has always been a girlish dream of mine to work in a bookshop. Nick and I walked to brunch on Sunday (read: burgers and fries) then stopped by this shop. I felt like I had stepped into the setting for my story, just with better lighting. This place is simply the best, cat photos and cows everywhere. Dips in the carpet that make you watch your footing. Books shoved in every plausible corner. Strange shop rules behind the register (no tap dancing). I didn't want to leave.
These Turkey feathers. A school volunteered to donate them but toward the end of my day the parent who brought the subject up was nowhere to be found. Yesterday I venture up to my other desk and find these bad boys. I am endlessly tickled by them. They are preserved in salt, vaccum sealed in a food saver bag and came with a little note and everything! I don't want to open them yet because chances are they smell like death, you better believe I want to wait till Monday to share that joy with my entire team.
The hipsterfication of everything.

The rebellion against hipsters.

The return of Community. Need I say more?
Also, explainabrag, I didn't make one spelling error in this post. My dyslexia's pride is being crushed.

Headache - something, such as a problem, that causes annoyance or trouble

Here is how I spent my Saturday.

Waking up, I walked from my bedroom, to the bathroom and back. Sitting back down on my bed I saw my feet had become blackened from the short trip. Time to clean. Not only did I clean my floors I also decided that after over a year of living with other people's cat prints on my walls, it was time for them to go as well. After cleaning the dirt spots off I now realise there is a blank wall in my room with nothing on it. Most disturbing.

After little consideration I decided I wanted to put up a tree in my room. Made of masking tape. An idea, I will admit, that was totally stolen from a classmate way cooler than me. It looks pretty good so far. It's not done. I'll put up pictures when it is.

Taking a break from what I can only describe as 'Masking Tape Smell Headache', Nick and I watched Victor/Victoria together. I started drinking one of the Margarita handles we had left over from our last party and have continued into my bedroom where I currently watch Beauty and the Beast.

It has been a lovely day of nothing.


Pessmist - a person who expects the worst

Woke up this morning feeling like Joseph Gordan-Levitt.

Last night was awesome. While still in school I used to go out each Thursday with a group of graduate students. When real life took over and required me to rise with the sun this tradition sadly got pushed to the wayside. Today though, I got to take a half day, which enabled me to meet up with my friends. It was only two of them this time. We closed out the bar. We talked. We made of fun of bitches with bitchy names (Bethany). I caught up on old department gossip that makes me feel one hundred years old. I was surprised to enter the bar and find that fun Kyle decided to come along. The personality where I am not bitchy, funny, charming and don't sulk in a corner listening to others conversations. I was shocked she decided to come, what with my being in Kentucky a mere eight hours earlier. I can't remember them in the harsh light of day but I do recall some zingers coming out of my mouth. I'm just a better around certain people.

This morning I rose late, which is an immediate brightener to my day. I actually took time to blow dry my hair and even though it still looks like crap, I love it. I feel cute in my new top with birds on it. Good coffee. Productive work day. Good day. Can't wait to see what ruins it.

I am a closet pessimist if nothing else.


Obese - a medical condition in which excess body fat has accumulated to the extent that it may have an adverse effect on health

Thoughts at the Orlando Airport
An irresponsibly obese lady cuts me in line so she doesn't have to go through the body scanners.
"I'm comin over here, I don't want to be groped."
Bitch, you couldn't pay anyone to grope you.
The body scanners make you stand like you're about to get deloused in a prison.
I have never rolled my eyes so much in a hour and a half.
The first time I'm allowed to drink at the airport and I can't because 1) it's too early 2) I have to work today.
The smell of au bon pain salads make me ill.

Thoughts on the plane as I count 15 babies boarding
Fucking. Shoot. Me.


Connection - a relation between things or events

The airport is an interesting place. People sitting around, ignoring each other. Only to get onto a very enclosed space to ignore each other some more.

When I was a child I flew from California to Ohio quite frequently. While on these flights I would immediately adopt the person next to me as my single serving parent. I would tell them about my life and my friends and put my trust in them to watch out for me over the next six hours or so. Most of the time it was a lovely couple or matronly grandmother. Occasionally I would get the unfriendly business man whose heart I would melt about two minutes in. Usually after the flight de-boarded I would hug them before running to whichever family member was at the gate waiting for me.

I used to be a lot friendlier. Now I bury my nose in a book.

This waiting area is making for some fabulous people watching. Close couples, even families are ignoring each other. Playing Nintendo DS or messing with their smart phones. One old man has a toy dog who is shaking so much they put some newspapers over it to keep it warm. You can tell this plane is headed to Florida. Half the passengers look like they're about to keel over at any moment.

Also as I sit here I am confronted with that plane fantasy. That fantasy where you sit with one empty seat next to you and just before the doors close one insanely attractive person jumps aboard. Oh and wouldn't you know it? They just happen to have a seat next to you. You begin a casual conversation. You laugh. You connect. You do not have sex on the plane because that's just not classy. Then as you de-board you happen to find out each other lives surprisingly close, you exchange numbers. The rest is history.

If that ever actually happened. I'm sure the last minute passenger would suddenly figure out they were on the wrong plane.