Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Netflix and Chill

Proof of my naïveté and innocence: I thought "Netflix and chill" meant actually binging on House of Cards online with some friends or a S/O....little did I know...

Thank you, Superman, for correcting my ignorance before I made a complete assclown of myself in front of someone.

23: it seems every year that I become increasingly astonished that I'm this old ha. I don't feel this old, nor particularly old in the least for that matter.

I feel ready to take on life, my career {eventually, at some point, when I figure out what I want to be when I "grow up"}, travels...hell's bells, I've taken on Paris, Chicago, and Nashville all by my lonesome, so I'm feeling quite confident, albeit avoiding cockiness...


A brekkie suitable for 5- and 23-year olds. Lovely's mummy had bought this wonderful sealife waffle iron for me 2 Xmas's ago and I'm only now digging it out, feeling it would be rather dangerous {knowing my luck} to attempt to make waffles in a dorm room.

Huzzah!


C/O of Mum and Sis: BA Vader watch and R2-D2 sweats and socks. "Growing up" means wearing all the cool things I never knew existed nor had the nerve to wear...

Obviously, I'm a mega man-repeller, but that's A-ok to me.

Love....my only advice: run away. Or, enjoy and run with it, letting your heart gain experience, while simultaneously living on the edge, where at any point, that heart of yours could be pulverized and beaten to a pulp, cast aside like an old sweater now overly stretched and holey, no longer suitable for its basic job of warmth.

Perhaps I grow ever more pessimistic on the surface with age, while remaining a total vulnerable softie underneath, afraid of any deep-rooted leaps of faith unless they're out of an airplane {hello, future skydiving excursion!}.

Fear. Fear is a terrible emotion to feel...one with which I've become quite accustomed to taking head-on.

Currently finishing up the last season of Glee and this quote from lovable Brittany caught my attention:
You know...these Mounds bars are delicious but you have to eat them. If you just hold them in your hand, hoping that you might get to eat them one day, they're going to melt. Then you'll look like somebody just pooped in your hand. Don't let waiting for things to maybe work out with Blaine turn you into the guy who looks like somebody just pooped in your hand.

Now, this seems silly, but can be applicable in love and life: grab Mounds bars life by the proverbial horns and run with it, fear or no.

Untangling my thoughts on love and my career: we crave those comforts in life, those which come with familiarity and safety nets but perhaps what is needed are those giant leaps of blind faith to get to somewhere truly wonderful...

Okay, enough deep feelings for today. I'm craving chocolate, which means water for this grouchy dieting wench.

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