Remaking Music Video

Saturday when my other half comes to visit me we will be filming my music video to "Frosty Apathy". I'm not sure what we are going to do with it yet, any suggestions are welcome.

Maybe something with someone in a cape?

Officially Poor

After I finally have given in and realized that I'm completely broke, this blog will also become my place for venting, crafting, cooking, sewing, and expanding my writing skills. What does that mean? It means that not only will there be random ramblings but also venting about how I have no money to do anything or buy anything. Pictures of crafts that probably look about as good as 5th graders could do, but that I'm pretty damn proud of. I am going to start sewing again, I realize this is not cheap, but I have many shirts that I do not like or want, so I am going to adapt them into something that I will wear. Maybe a skirt? Or purses, or something to wear with leggings!

And one of the things that I'm not too thrilled about having to include..or start doing in general is cooking. I don't mind baking too much, but I really do not like to cook. But apparently it's cheaper, so we are going to give it a try. And when I say we, G is included. Which also makes this even harder because half of the things that I would make in a heartbeat he wont eat. Mushrooms, eggs, seafood...pretty much anything that’s not taco salad or spaghetti...is a no go. So I'm trying to expand him outside of these food .... "delicacies" and into the adult world of variety.

So I will be trying new things, and creating some strange blogs, but hopefully they are entertaining none the less.

Perfectionism

My original plan when I came to write this was to say how perfectionists are a pain in the butt, and dont make any sense. But! ..there's always a but. I realized that perfectionists are also control freaks. Which I am. Terribly.
I always had it in my head that I was not a perfectionist and that people like that and I did not get along. Which is still true, but for different reasons than I thought. I'm not detail oriented, which I thought meant I could never be a perfectionist. But there are certain things that have to be the right way, or I become like an angry mother bear when someone misplaces her child.

I hate looking at things or doing things and focusing on the tiny little details of it rather than the whole finished product. I feel like getting something done is a much bigger accomplishment than how perfect the things are inside.

But on the other hand when I'm cleaning or anything, if its not to my standards...its not right. So I dont know if that makes me anal retentive,a perfectionist, or just weird. Or maybe all three. That'd be cool.

Nameless Band

Music is a weird thing, it is the most powerful thing when recalling memories..or maybe its smell…but I think its music. And it can trigger things that you didn’t even know you felt, or don’t want to feel, or worked really really hard not to feel, it will dig them up. It is like a tiny logger in your mind hacking at your brain with a hacksaw…ice pic, that’s what they use. Don’t believe me? (http://www.livescience.com/5327-music-memory-connection-brain.html) there’s my proof.

So, if I was in a band that came out with a really catchy song that filled everyone’s memories, it would kind of be like ruling the world. I could subliminally advertise..or control. I have been planning a band for a long time, and have settled on a few names…such as…

1.      Reappearing satin

2.      Monogamy splash

3.      Frosty apathy

4.      Deficient bubble

5.      Royal hissy-fit posse

6.      Girl like blanket

7.      Pop wine

8.      Screaming crayon revival

9.      Downcast peasant planet

10.  Swollen amusement

11.  Dinosaur congregation

12.  The drunken pasta

13.  Plan B Pursuit

14.  Plastic arrogance

15.  Mange

16.  Southwest Jesus Lime

17.  Easy Accountant

18.  Illegal Hologram Rescue

19.  Holy Asleep!

20.  Slutty Fetus

19 names is a lot to choose from. And then there is the task of writing a song..what to write about? Should it rhyme? Should it be slow or fast? Poppy or punky? Or RAP? I was a rapper at one point. Here is a rough draft of a song.

Frosty Apathy

Standing on the corner in your bedazzled hat

But it’s raining so you looked like a drowned rat

We were once so happy and awesome

Until you screwed up and played dead possum

I was dressed up in my red high heels

But you left me waiting, for reals??

I blamed it on your youth

Ready to lie myself into the truth

Chorus:

J is for the joke that you are to me

S is for the sex…that sucked anyways

U represents the unconditional hatred I have for you

   And

K is for your know it all attitude

JSUK….just so you know!

Just so you know.

Rap:

You should have thought things through

Or do I have to put it back to basics like Pooh?

Like Blue you need a clue
Like a library book you’re overdue

Like baseball players you’re just chew

What a terrible concoction you chose to brew

Now sit in your cauldron and stew.

I’m so over you always being tipsy

Gonna find me a semi-functioning hippie

Find him walking down the street late at night

He’ll prove to me that everything’s alright

He likes hoppin beats, not your country twang

And unlike you he has an amazing wang

I’m cutting you out of my life

Ready to move on and end this strife

Sally and I have started the video....it's apparently a long process and there is not a program that i can just put it into and have it come out the way I want. Go figure.

Sarah's first guest post

I used to think Tuesdays were the absolute worst day of the week. I mean, when you’re in school, you’re still kind of stuck in the weekend on a Tuesday, but unlike Monday, somehow your teachers have recovered and are wide awake. It’s totally unfair!

Then when I was spending all my time working retail, there were never any customers on a Tuesday. There also was never any merchandise to put out, so I’d spend most of the day trying to look busy but not actually doing anything. Of course, if I didn’t look busy, I’d have gotten in trouble, which didn’t make any sense, since I figured the manager would know there was no work.

But now that I’m in grad school, I’ve had to change my opinion, and it’s throwing me off! Tuesdays are like the day I look forward to now! I have my favorite class, and I have a reading group (this makes me sound like a huge nerd, and while I totally am, I’d just like to point out that the reading group does meet at a bar, and they have good gumbo). And I’m busy pretty much from 10 am until 8 pm, but they’re all things I want to be doing (as opposed to high school or psych 101 or working at Stein Mart).

So I was all excited yesterday (Monday) for my Tuesday, and I was doing some reading for class last night, and I happened to be talking to Zac, one of my fellow grad students. Somehow he convinced me that it would be a good idea to go out to a bar on a Monday night at 10 pm.

I thought this wasn’t necessarily a terrible idea, because I figured the bar would close at midnight and I’d be asleep by 12:30 and still get 8 hours of sleep so I could be functional and all happy on Tuesday. But little did I know, that House Bar stays open until 3 am EVERY NIGHT. I mean 3 AM! What is that?? Actually I probably should have known when I pulled up, because it was the sketchiest place I've ever been in, but that's another story.

So yeah…we stayed till at least 1:30. And it’s not like I got outrageously drunk and am now incredibly hungover, but I wasn’t in bed until around 2. So now I’m really tired because I only got like 5 hours of sleep (of course I would wake up early on the day when I can sleep till 8:30). And Tuesday is looking a lot less fun.

Clearly my body, or God, or the Invisible Pink Unicorn is punishing me for even daring to THINK that Tuesdays could be okay. Not fair at all.

Mona lisa

I'm mysterious like the mystery machine

Abcs and 123s

1. My face feels like someone punched it.
2. I am going to invent a fluorescent light that doesn't hurt my head and use force on the world to install them.
3. I'm planning on taking over the world.
4. How? Well. For starters, going to create a clone of myself and then I am going to change myself into a robot so I'm invincible. And it's obvious that from there I will be able to rule. Sarah will rule with me.
5. And since I haven't mentioned Sarah before, she is my other half. Not in a romantic sexual way but in a she completes me and has been in my life for way to long to escape.
6. I can count!

Left handed, Cottilion, and Texas Roadhouse

I'm going to start out by saying that this is about the 40 millionth blog I have tried to write. Ok that may be exaggerated slightly, but only by like .5 or so. 
http://www.tumblr.com/tumblelog/missadapted
That is my last one. This is going to be my last one. Swear on my almost dead fishes lives. 


I am going to enter into this by sharing a story that is very near and dear to my heart. At dinner a couple nights ago with my dad, Gerald (the boyfriend of mine who I so lovingly refer to as G), Sally (my symbiotic life partner), and Kelsey (that little voice in my head of reason) sitting in Texas Roadhouse which happens to be my  favorite restaurant ever. Their rolls are so so delish. Anyways, I get my steak that I ordered and G automatically slides a little bit away from me and Sally and Kels just watch in amusement as I try and cut it. 


Now to help you understand where I am coming from, I was in Cottilion (http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080224213949AAkM8XL in case you were wondering what the hell that is). So I was in Cottilion AND I am left handed. Come to find out at dinner that night that my parents tried to "reform" me and make me right handed, but I prevailed and my left handedness won! Which seems like a pretty sweet victory until I took Cottilion and they told me I could not cut my meat with my left hand. So I tried to learn right handed which did not work out well, and now... I am stuck somewhere in between. And look like a semi retarded baboon trying to eat steak. 


Ps. If you ask the waiter to cut it for you they either laugh, or say that is called the "Geriatric Service" and then still laugh. Your choice.