another bout of the incoherent ramblings.

maybe i'm far behind, which is usually the case when it comes to music/movies/technology/anything that needs electricity, but i've "found" this band that i cannot stop loving. not only does the name frightened rabbit make me want to cuddle them and feed them carrots of bravery, but their lyrics...oh the lyrics.

i recently acquired their album "the winter of mixed drinks" and it's been on repeat. i keep wanting to really hear the lyrics, and i start listening to them, but get so sidetracked by the music. i think mothership likes them too because he is curled up on the floor next to me with the most serene look on his face. i don't think chuck cares either way, but i've already deemed him "special needs."

mothership and i recommend this album. chuck wags his nub-tailthing at you.

this post is exactly why i failed my theory and criticism class in college. i am the worst critic. it is nearly impossible for me to provide an objective opinion of a work of art. maybe i'm wrong, but i don't believe there's a place for critics in art. i believe art is incredibly personal and emotional, no one can tell you how to respond to a particular work. now, of the critic's job to determine whether the art is "good" or not...again, i'm certainly upset that i missed the day that the president of good art was handing out this certification, but i believe that "good" is subjective.

so, with that said...i like frightened rabbit and maybe you will to. so give them a listen. if you don't like them, neat. but if you do, holler at meh.

yo mama.

after going all supermassive black hole on a 1/2 gallon of publix sweet tea and 3 pepperidge farm soft baked snickerdoodle cookies for dinner, i concluded that i haven't the slightest idea how to properly feed myself and that i should thank my mother for feeding me well-balanced, nutritional meals everyday of my life while growing up. cause if i was in charge, i'd be a morbidly obese midget right now.

just another sunday evening's musings

i skipped ahead in the book queue a little bit. lately we've been watching a lot of shows about the universe, so i wanted to read my black hole book. i've been so curious lately about physics, mainly astrophysics, so i've been reading and watching practically everything i can get my hands on.

i don't know much (quite the understatement.) i never took a physics class in high school or college. i took astronomy and chemistry in high school. so i feel like i'm missing out on the basic principles of physics. so i've decided to start from the beginning. but i tell you, everywhere i start...when explaining the most basic principles of physics...i'm always redirected to another starting point. i feel like i keep losing sight of the beginning because there isn't one. there is just no beginning because in order to understand something as simple as space or time, you have to redirect to another beginning...spacetime. and once you understand spacetime, you can understand space and time. maybe.

and i didn't even set out to learn about spacetime. i set out trying to figure out where the heck gravity comes from. i was redirected from gravity to go learn about special relativity. and now special relativity is talking about nuclear radiation and how that works. so now i have to go learn about that. when will i be finding out about gravity? i just want to know where it comes from!

it seems to me that physics is a huge undertaking. if you want to understand this world, you're gonna have to bust your tail. i don't know how i feel about all the math involved...because it's basically doing math with the alphabet. and that don't make no sense.

this has to be the most dorky thing i have ever written in my entire life.

steadier footing

in order to keep myself busy and relatively sober, i've created a queue list of books that need reading. they are currently aligned on a shelf in plain sight so i know what's in store for me and everytime i look at the books, i get so excited. so the queue is as follows:

eat, pray, love by elizabeth gilbert (currently reading)
eclipse by stephanie meyer (rereading before the movie)
the short second life of bree tanner by stephanie meyer (i feel like everyone's judging me now)
the glass castle by jeannette walls (rereading because i love it)
the reader by bernhard schlink
the girl with the dragon tattoo by stieg larsson
the memory keeper's daughter by kim edwards
death by black hole and other cosmic quandaries by neil degrasse tyson (my nerdy science read)

so looks like i have a good week ahead of me. i started this queue list because i love reading, but mainly to take some of the pressure off of paul. i feel like ever since my dad died, i've had to be with paul at all times. i haven't been working, i haven't been writing, i haven't really done anything. it's been hard being alone. not that i want to be social, because i definitely don't want to do that. i just don't want to be alone. paul makes me happy, even when he's just sitting there. and i really like being happy.

it's hard trying to find things to make you happy when you're so set on being unhappy. so i've decided to be happy and (re)find things that make me happy. so far, i've (re)found fundip, books, playing my bass, and sumatra. but for the most part, those are things i enjoy alone.

next step, things i enjoy doing with my dear friends who have been so so patient with me. and getting a job. that's also on the agenda. eventually.

nice graduation pictures.

i guess it's not that good to check up on former classmates on facebook.

you know...the ones who became doctors and costume designers and god knows what other profession that took more school and determination than working at...well...nowhere requires.

i'm happy for them, don't get me wrong. and i feel like had i done anything differently in my life then i wouldn't have met paul. and i'm more than overjoyed about meeting paul.

i live by myself. i decorated the entire apartment with everything that i wanted. but i didn't earn it. sometimes i look around and i loathe the place i live because it means that my dad is really gone. why did i spend his money on this? why didn't i just go to grad school and earn what i have. would he still be around if i did?

no. coronary artery disease still would have claimed him whether i attained my doctorate or not. that's just how it is. that's just how it is.

well. here's to the last swig of riesling in the bottle. i love you, dad.

not sure about today.

let's see...going on what feels like 2 hours of sleep. i'm probably going to throw both of my cats outside today.

reasons for committing this crime:
chuck: well. where to begin. he's ruined my blinds. his poop smells worse than a human's. and he wakes me up at the crack of dawn every morning. and it pisses me off because it's making me tired and paul doesn't want to stay around for stupid cat meowing either. thanks chuck. i rescue you and you turn out to be a big jerk.

mothership: it's really just wrong place, wrong time with poor mothership. after blasting chuck at point blank range with my heavy duty squirt bottle, i was kinda on edge. so i sat down at my computer to play some solitaire or get on fb or something. and homeboy decides he's just gonna bypass my lap and jump straight up on the computer desk. bad choice. so i shot him with the squirt bottle too.

not to mention, all of this is going on while poor paul is trying to sleep after a horrible night's sleep...and he has to work (all day, probably, since he's on call.)

this is nothing. this is really nothing to get upset about. especially nothing to blog about. but if there's one thing i learned in college, it's subtext.

i'm honestly just downright heartbroken. i need to know that my father knew that i loved him dearly and unconditionally. and, from our last communication before he died (which was a letter i sent to him a year prior to his death), it was probably unclear whether i still loved him or not. and that's my fault. i didn't communicate my point properly.

but i'm hoping against hope that there's an unwritten rule book in life. and on page 222, there is a rule written (or unwritten) that, no matter what is said or done, daughters will always know their fathers love them, and fathers will always know their daughters love them. and that in their last moments (together or apart), whoever draws their last breath, it is written that they will be thinking fondly about their unconditional love for one another and will save their last heartbeat just for them. and both souls, on earth and heaven, will rest peacefully knowing their love.

that's what i hope for. that's what i'm going to tell myself today. and hopefully i'll tell myself that tomorrow too.

maybe i won't throw the cats out just yet.

what a difference 5 days can make

5 days.

5 days after my post about trying to be more positive, my dad died.

i only had 5 days of being more positive.
on the 5th day, he died.
on the 6th day, i turned 26.

and here i am about a month and a half later, sitting alone in my apartment.
drinking what might be expired chardonnay that paul brought over.
(it wasn't expired when he brought it.)
and listening to sad music.
(margot & the nuclear so and so's.)

i'm an imposter.
i don't know the difference between good wine and bad wine.

but i'll tell you what i do know.

if you have something to say, then say it.
and that is what i know with my entire heart.