anti-cashier

you know anticomedy?
how you like break the typical rules of what a joke is
well, I'm the anti-cashier
I do all the shit that I just, shouldn't and people tip me like crazy

example, a guy who was kinda cute walked in
glasses and dark hair, nice smile
and we were almost closing so no one was around and I literally was just standing there with nothing to do
he like looked at our massive pastry case, perplexed
so I said, "Hello! if you're looking for something sweet and want a suggestion - I'm right here!," which was a total freudian slip
... then he just kinda grinned and said, "Okay, just let me think about it for a moment."

when he finally came to the register I realized his girlfriend was standing only a few feet away but was just out of my line of view and she was glaring at me

they tipped me 2 dollars for a 4 dollar pastry that she ended up paying for

... I just like bumble through social interactions until people give me money.

summer planz

This is the first time in far too many years I will have the summer free of all academic endeavors, so I'm gonna try and do everything I have been putting off. We'll just see what happens.

1. make watercolors and silkscreened t-shirts.

2. create etsy store to sell aforementioned items.

2. attend or volunteer at grassroots.

3. write 2 letters a week. (oh, no! I'm out of stationary. plan 2.5: get new fancy stationary!)

4. read at least 1 book per week on my porch with some locally made wine.

5. attempt to understand how guitars work.

6. get $$$ for music festival in Montreal to see Sigur Ros.

7. actually go to the ink shop instead of dreaming about it, maybe even take a class there or whatever they do.

8. sleep more than 4 or 5 hours a night, every night.

9. make fancy breakfast way more often than necessary.

10. get so many freckles they overlap and it makes me look tan (not so much for the physical appearance, just to be outdoors!)

11. watch so many foreign films. how many? so.

12. jump into every gorge possible and just visit the others.

we'll see what happens. TELL ME YR SUMMER PLANZ.

Internal Deception

I have heard so many people explain that they love their significant other completely, but their stories of how they interact with them hardly match the adoration they profess. If you love someone, you will not claim that they are an inconvenience or get upset by their typical personality to the point where you need to actively treat them badly. Something clearly isn't working, and it might be you just are not that happy with them. Recently I had a discussion with a friend and he used a phrase I have never heard before, "internal deception." The idea is that we convince ourselves that we are truly happy at a given moment, when our lives are actually just dumpsters full of mediocrity. People do a series of horrible things while believing it doesn't affect them, then start rotting from the gloopy innards out. I know it is a generalization, and I honestly love cool unnaturally colored hairs, but I think that is when nearly 87% of bad hair dye jobs happen. "Oh, my life is shit but I am going to pretend it is okay - why don't I dye my hair pepto-bismal pink in my black mold infested bathroom because I need a CHANGE in my life!" Altering your appearance will only do so much for that gnarly kink in your life hose.

One of my mantras since the inception of 2012 (you know, 'CAUSE WE ALL GUN DIE ANYWAY. WHOO - MAYAN CALENDAR!) has been "Whatever, fuck it." No longer will I compromise my beliefs and my self for others or for sake of reputation. I realized that although I never lived according to other people directly, I was certainly influenced by external forces more than necessary. I have just stopped caring about expectations and goals and dignity. I'm fucking too young to set limitations on my experiences and shit needs to get real now before I have a stable family life or a regular job.

My aunt Heidi lived a hard a fast paced life, full of amazing experiences and she had a helluva good time doing it. However, when I was a teenager she died of a rare form of leukemia. I was not exceptionally close with her before she was sick, but when she was battling with the disease my entire family starting telling her most brilliant anecdotes and I felt a connection with her, even if it was just through family storytelling. After death, her life has been a huge inspiration for me. When she was in and out of the hospital, "You Get What You Give" was pretty popular and it always reminds me of her attitude, or what I pieced together through the relayed memories.

What I am getting at is now is the time for ridiculous adventures, mistakes and all the bits of life I have previously ignored. So, uh, if you have any good ideas for mischief and debauchery send them my way.

This is somewhat unrelated, but I adore the song Lloyd I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken by Camera Obscura. The idea of not being able to see beyond your nose when you're inebriated on good feelings is so accurate. Just sayin'.

Just uh, watch that.

The First Woman To Enter The Boston Marathon

Watch Kathrine Switzer on PBS. See more from Makers: Women Who Make America.

Found Stories

Does this happen to everyone, or what? Nearly every day I run into someone I have never met before, and within five minutes they confess monumental things to me. I am not exaggerating.

Two days ago. Wegmans, Aisle 6. I accidentally dropped my purse and all of its contents flew out at the register. Naturally, I start explaining to the person I was with that I am an absolute klutz and shouldn't be allowed to drive or do anything functional without supervision. A woman behind me immediately shares, "Well, whenever I used to PMS it was like I had Parkinson's for a week!" With an opener like that, I had to turn around. She is a fairly tall woman who looks very strangely similar to the Log Lady but with golden rimmed glasses instead of cherry red ones. She went on to describe her troubles with being a clumsy girl during childhood, which was difficult for her. She was not even picked last for gym class dodge-ball, she just wasn't chosen at all. She hesitated for a moment, lost in the tough moments. Things got better for her though, once she went to middle school. She started swimming, which was fantastic exercise and required no hand eye coordination or balance that would crumble apart with awful clumsiness.

All in about two minutes.

Art class, near the cutting board. I was trying to quickly mat a print for a critique coming up, but since I'm awful with numbers and measuring things... just precision overall, it took me about three attempts to cut a fucking square out of a piece of mat board. Meanwhile, another girl who had missed a few classes was also rushing to complete the same assignment. She had very moon like features, dark curly hair, dark eyes and pale skin on an oval shaped face. Very calm and collected individual. Somehow after 3 years of taking art classes in a very small building with limited courses, we never met before. Between figuring out simple mathematics over pristine white sheets and cursing straight edges, we struck up a conversation. Again, in quite a short amount of time she opened up the floodgates of her past. She described in abbreviated detail the course of her last few years. Her mother's death. Her father's illness. Her strained relationship with her brother, and how it all affected her academic career until she decided to take a year off from school then transfer to Ithaca College. She was so overwhelmed by her emotions that she actually started tearing up.

I can't be the only person who has experienced this. What are your found stories?