The door is always open

Once in a while I can feel a person's energy when I walk into a room. I feel them and I learn about them with considerable ease through split-second flashes that my brain gives me - pictures of the way they live or the way I might experience life with them. Blue and white stripes, a breeze on a balcony overlooking red and brown rooftops, pajama pants, a drink in my right hand, and music playing while he works. The feeling is so real that sometimes I question whether there are two separate halves of me: one half venturing off to experience that moment while the other sits calmly, waiting for the report.

I'm in the strangest state of mind. I fall in love so deeply and so effortlessly and so fleetingly. I'm in love with 2 or 3 people at a time because I can't help it. I fall in love with places, times, words. I feel everything at once and then it's gone. Infatuation looks good on me.

I have trouble looking at love as an everlasting state of union although I suppose it's everlasting in that I still feel warmth and gratitude from it after it's gone. It's not that I don't believe in being with someone forever, but I tend to see love as a set of individual moments in time where I experience pure bliss. These moments are selfless and sweet, and they're all I think about.

(the photos above are from arrestedmotion.com)

I left Gary Baseman's show at the Skirball last night feeling so thankful and inspired that today I actually feel lightweight, like a block of worry has been released from my head. In order to translate the intense love that I sometimes feel, I absolutely must let go of anything holding me back. I will be thankful to Baseman forever for helping me see that.

If people don't like what I do, I won't let myself give them another thought. I've made a promise to myself to finally communicate all the love that I have to give, and it's honestly the most important thing I've ever done. If I've gotten this far in my life with all my worries and judgement, I cannot wait to see where I go now that I'm free from it.

--

If you like what you see, consider following me on Twitter and Instagram or liking Excelsior Lady on Facebook!

The something sweet, the language of looooove

On VERY heavy rotation lately. All of em! It may be a little eclectic for some (Rilo Kiley and Tom Waits on the same playlist yeahhhh yeah), but it makes a ton of sense in my head. I'm especially fond of the Kurt Vile tracks; it's like the two of us were joined at the brain and heart for one single moment in time, and when we separated we were left with the same idea of what great music should sound like. 

01. Marathon (Tennis)
02. Sea Of Love (Cat Power)
03. I've Been Let Down (Mazzy Star)
04. Silver Lining (Rilo Kiley)
05. Silver Soul (Beach House)
06. Ballad Of The Golden Hour (Widowspeak)
07. Shine A Light (The Rolling Stones)
08. My Best Friends (Kurt Vile)
09. Ends Of The Earth (Lord Huron)
10. Don't Worry Baby (The Beach Boys)
11. In My Dreams (Crosby, Stills & Nash)
12. Gun Street Girl (Tom Waits)
13. Left Behind (Grace Potter & The Nocturnals)
14. The Ghost On The Shore (Lord Huron)
15. Classic Rock In Spring/Freeway In Mind (Kurt Vile)

Listen and subscribe here. I'm really relieved that the latest big Spotify update allows everyone to select who they follow! There was some serious clutter that needed to be taken care of in that feed.

Last week I took this test as a joke (the name alone is enough to make me gag), but it has surprisingly explained a bunch of shit about me that I haven't been able to sort through on my own. I scored extremely high on Words Of Affirmation (11), and extremely low on Acts Of Service (1). The rankings are representative of the kind of love we need/are most comfortable giving. Do you have aaaaany idea how accurate that is?! This awful self-help quiz with the terrible name is fucking spot on, you guys, lol.

I don't like people doing things for me. I don't like it at all. I live for the phrase "If you want something done right, do it yourself." I'm particular and controlling about my life, but I've earned the right to be because I do everything on my own. Other people's efforts to help me just end up feeling intrusive and annoying even though I know they have good intentions. The only way to truly earn my trust and respect is by paying attention to what I say/how I do things and replicating it when I DO need to count on someone. There have only been 6 people that have ever been able to do that (Morales, I'm lookin at you!).

Basically my results can be summed up with this: Communicate with me efficiently and effectively...and then leave me be.

It's why I'm awful when people try to teach me things (don't want advice, don't want people watching me, would rather learn it on my own at my own pace), it's why I'm a bitch when people question things that I do, and most importantly, it's why I get so frustrated and upset when I don't feel that I'm being listened to or understood.

I always thought that it was weird that I pay more attention to people's words than their actions. I never understood "actions speak louder than words" because it is not true for me. If I have an idea to express, I don't act it out, I put it in words. I pay very little attention to the way that I act. It's probably why I've remembered practically ALL of the criticism I've ever been given, and have made careful note to not do those things again (as batshit crazy as that is) - because even if the person that said it wasn't being all that serious...they got my attention. The ONLY way I learn from a mistake is if someone says something that makes me feel embarrassed. Otherwise, it's lather, rinse, repeat.

A couple years ago I made a list of the men that I've loved in hopes of discovering what my "type" was, because it seemed like no one that I had ever loved had anything in common. The 3 big ones only had one similarity on my list: "He just had a way of saying things."

I can love someone for many reasons, but it seems as though the only thing that can make me stay is incredible communication.

I had all of the above thoughts in about a 2 minute span after taking that quiz, and thought to myself, "well.........alright." Haha. THAT explains why my relationship failed. THAT explains why the men I love are all entirely different. THAT explains why I will happily ignore someone's poor actions if they paint a nice picture with their words. The moooore yooouuu knoooooow!

And on a final, totally unrelated note, the mehndi on my hand from the wedding is making me look diseased. Fading/flaky henna is not a good look.

Self discovery, you guys...

OH PS, WANNA SEE ME IN 6TH GRADE AND LAUGH A WHOLE LOT? Click here. No fucks given.

EDIT - WAIT....I downloaded the Tamagotchi app for my iPhone on Wednesday and it made me think of how I had 3 of them when I was little; I had a kitty GigaPet, a Tamagotchi, and a Nano Baby. The GigaPet was the first one I got, but I COULD NOT keep it alive. So I just Googled...and found that the entire internet had this same problem in 1997. Some genius girl put a youtube video up and kept hers alive for like 100 days and explained how to keep it healthy, and it blew my mind. AND HER PROFILE PIC IS DANA SCULLY. Apparently there are like thousands of me on the internet. We all have the same interests.

-- If you like what you see, consider following me on Twitter and Instagram or liking Excelsior Lady on Facebook!

The mistakes that I've made

I fucked up. Really bad.

I pushed someone that I love very far away. I was inconsiderate. I was hurtful. It wasn't all me, but a lot of the bottom-line issues were my own.

I don't know why I have such a hard time identifying with people. I just don't get it. I notice myself having a big, open heart for inanimate objects and animals and fictional fucking characters, but when it comes to returning love to the people that love me, I always struggle. I take love for granted and I treat people like they're disposable, even though I don't mean to do it.

I told BV on Thursday night (the first time that we've seen each other in months, because I'm an asshole that went on a 2 month long bender and ignored the breakup almost entirely) that I'm not wired to give out love as easily as he is. I wish that I was, but I just wasn't born that way. I'm envious of his ability to love other people so openly. All he ever wanted from me was for me to be able to match the amount of care that he showed me, and I was rarely able to. He cares more than the average person, and I care less. Those qualities don't mesh well. And now he's leaving on a month long road trip and then moving away shortly after he gets back, and I've spent my weekend feeling terrified of the day that he leaves. The second he walked into my apartment on Thursday I started to miss him.

I'm not with this person anymore. We gave it 3 years before the differences between us just became too large, looming over our heads. It made sense to end the relationship. It still makes sense that we ended the relationship. There is a difference between missing someone and wanting to be with someone (thanks Ian), and I know I just miss him. But have you ever loved another person so much that you're never really sure WHAT the fuck you feel?

I had a conversation with a coworker a while ago - he hung up the phone after a quick conversation with his girlfriend and said, "That girl loves me so much." I said, "I know that feeling. I ran screaming from that feeling." He said, "That'll change. When you get older you get tired of running." And in my head, a little red light turned on and I thought YIKES. Am I just doing this/feeling this/being like this because I (wrongly) think that I have all the time in the world? Am I going to reach a point where I'm just tired of running and would really appreciate someone loving me so much that it's too much? Because...when THAT day comes, I'm going to feel even worse than I feel today. Shit.

This is why I'm so hard on myself when I mess up even the smallest things, and it's also why I'm hesitant to put myself in new situations where I know I might mess something up or appear less than perfect. Because the way I feel when I do is the loneliest, saddest feeling. I am such a dick sometimes that I really deserve to feel bad, so I scold myself if no one else does it first. I know that no one cares about my life as much as I do, and very few people pay attention to my fuckups, but let me assure you: I remember themm aalllllll.

It's scary becoming close to someone. It is the scariest thing I've ever felt. I'd like to think of myself as an open book, but I'm really only sharing the best parts with the rest of the world. The bad stuff never sees the light of day. It's impossible to hide those things when we're truly close to someone, and trying to never mess up is just exhausting. I am exhausted.

The same love, the doll parts, the something-is-missing

First things first, my bedroom is on ApartmentTherapy.com! The post is here and you can vote for me by clicking the red heart at the bottom of the post. It will let you log in with Facebook or Twitter so it's quick and painless! I need about...ohhhh...500 votes to get into the top 4 that will carry me through to the final round, and right now I have..........25. Hahahaha. I'm just happy to be in the running.

With that said, there's no need to post the pictures here (I tricked you!! Mothafuckaaas) because they're on AT and you can just see them there when you vote. If I had outtakes I'd post them here, but I was shooting on a weekday morning and therefore making myself late for work, so I only took what I needed to and then ran out the door.

I've had a strange weekend. There was nothing wrong with it; I went to see a screening of Jemal's short film at the Egyptian Theater, went out to eat with lovely people, went dancing in West Hollywood, lounged around, worked...but something felt off. I know what made it feel that way, and it's fine for me to suddenly feel it, especially since I've spent the past 3-4 months after this breakup not really feeling bad at all. It's just strange that it took so long to catch up with me. Friday I realized that I haven't gotten many hugs lately, and there used to be an abundance of them haha. It's all gonna be just fine, I know. Even writing it here makes me feel better. At least this way I'm taking a fistful of the clouds in my head and leaving them here on the internet for someone else to process for a while. THINKING IS SO HARD.

Point being, if you read this and you see me, you should drop everything and gimme a nice creepy bear hug.

From the past few days:

(scary doll head!)

Jemal DRACO it was so wonderful to see your face on the big screen for the first time (and certainly not the last). I love you!

I may just have a ragestorm brewing in my bones today, but I have to take a moment to note something. I LOVE...LOVE love love the blogging community because they are well-worded and thoughtful and the best listeners and friends, but every now and then I encounter one of those people that I can just tell was the kind of kid that always told on other students in school. Sometimes I just wanna crawl through my computer and grab a bitch by the throat. I'M ALREADY FEISTY ENOUGH DON'T MAKE ME WORSE

I am 
doll parts 
bad skin
doll heart


--

If you like what you see, consider following me on Twitter and Instagram or liking Excelsior Lady on Facebook!

The attraction

Pulp Fiction dance scene image from here

My knees have been weak.

They've been weak so many times. I've spent hours, days, months, years feeling as though I might lift right off the ground from the momentum that my heart creates. When it's not due to a person plucking just the right strings inside my head, it comes from something else. A great song, the month of May, Avery Maharaja, etc. I am never bored with my own self. I'll never need someone else to entertain me or keep me company or make me feel needed. For that, I am thankful; however, feeling as though I've been set on fire from human interaction is a different type of entertainment.

My whole life, I've only been interested in fascination. If it doesn't consume me, I don't want it. If I'll only be average at it, I won't do it. If I can't love it with my entire being, I won't love it. My standards for living and loving are sky high. I am a difficult person to get to know only only only when the wrong person tries to get to know me. Chemistry and passion in all things are so sought after in my life that sometimes I forget to keep my feet planted on the ground when I find them, even though I run around flailing my arms, ranting about how "realism is way smarter than optimism" and blahhh blah.

Because.

Because I create trouble for myself; I am really, really good at creating trouble for myself. I do it for my own entertainment because I know how it will end. I create trouble for myself and I become electrified. Every nerve, every hair, every blink, every thought.

I've got all the time in the world, really.

What else do any of us have? We only exist in this form for a minute. I prefer to spend my single minute feeling like I could float right up out of my chair, through this doorway and up into zero gravity, where I will sail freely with the thought of this human electricity always on my mind. If that means creating it rather than stumbling upon it, then that is precisely what will happen. I've learned so much about when to push and when to stand still.

When it works, when the electricity isn't just me playing games and I actually find myself in the rare situation where I simply cannot get close enough, literally or figuratively, I find something. I never know what the something is, but that's the moment that I find it.

I found it. And, of course, I have no idea what it is. Don't care.

--

 If you like what you see, consider following me on Twitter and Instagram or liking Excelsior Lady on Facebook!

The pure bliss, the camera, the delightful coming-of-age story

I planned on putting a Valentine's Day post together with edited photos with illustrations and blahhh blah, and it would have been great except for the fact that if I did that, I would've exploded internally and smoke would've started billowing from my eye sockets. So instead, I got pasta and took a long break. Sans my editing/illustration, this is the only photo that was Valentines-y:

It is the most wonderfully infuriating feeling to know that I might get what I want if I can just be patient. I, of course, am the least patient person in the world, so this is convenient.

At some point this weekend I found myself somewhere new, complete with a wobbly trumpet serenade of the bridge of Dance Of The Reed Flutes from The Nutcracker. It was such a beautiful day that I collected my thangs, found a park near my apartment, and hung out on a little bridge with some ducks while I read and wrote and took photos. Sometimes the breeze just feels so good on my skin, ya know? The only reason I moved is because eventually some annoying family appeared with their small child and wanted to take 150 pictures on the bridge, which meant that someone had to make little squealing noises at the kid to make it smile before each photo could be taken, and I could feel a giant ragestorm brewing in my brain. So I put on Crazy On You by Heart and headed home.

Speaking of Heart, I was listening to them on my way to Mike's apartment on Saturday (rekindled my love affair with them recently) when a homeless man approached me and said, "I can hear yo music, I can hear yo music" and when I laughed, he asked me what I was listening to. I replied with "Heart" and he said, "HEART?!" with a look of ABSOLUTE disgust. YOU CAN'T PLEASE EVERYONE, YOU GUYS

Sunday afternoon, while recapping an even-stranger-than-usual night/morning, Cindy and I decided that we might have a slightly odd friendship (only due to the things that we're fine with, which sounds weird but it's the only way I can safely explain it), but seriously, WHAT did I do before she came along? It's pretty important to be able to do strange shit together and not have to worry that one of us is going to end up offended or crying in a chair in the corner of the room (bahahahaaaaaa). More than anything, I think I've really needed someone that can keep up with me/someone that will let me keep up with them without making me feel pressured to do so.

I bought a Canon t3i becaaauuuuse why not? I have a blog and there should be photos on this blog that aren't lousy. There's only so much Photoshop can do with iPhone photos. I have a lot to learn but I'm getting the hang of it. My photography tutor won't let me put anything on Auto (hate that shit anyway, if I'm gonna pay 700 dollars for a camera I had better know it inside and out) so there's a lot of trial and error happening in my life right now.

And I'm not just talking about the camera.

-- If you like what you see, consider following me on Twitter and Instagram or liking Excelsior Lady on Facebook!

The bar, the car, the street

I'm already over the starting-a-band thing from my last post. I've also stopped singing Les Mis in the shower and have moved onto The Supremes, which is always a hit with the cats, hahaha

Thank you so much to whoever nominated me for Best Female Overall in the 20sb bootlegs. I'm in very good company and I can't wait to see which one of us ends up winning that one! Good luck to all - the poll is here for any 20sb members that haven't voted yet! I believe voting ends on the 23rd.

WHAT'S GOING ON, IS IT SOME SORT OF SOLSTICE? This long weekend has been so great. The planets must be aligned in some ideal way. I napped on the beach for a few hours yesterday, after recapping the FUNNEST night. I'm also learning that it doesn't matter if I have one drink or 10 drinks: I will feel like shit for the entirety of the following day. Who gets a hangover without getting drunk? I do, of course. Remember when I was a sophomore in college and used to go shot-for-shot with Bacardi 151 with my guy friends and wake up with no hangover? I'm just being punished now for being an idiot 7 years ago. Oh my god, that was 7 years ago. 

Cindy and I attempted to enjoy Bacon Social Saturday night, but the art sucked and the music sucked and the crowd sucked. The BLT and the comfy couch across from a TV that was showing Charlotte's Web were the only things that I enjoyed. How do you fuck up a Bacon Social? I feel angry about it. It was an art show...with bacon. I could've created something really incredible with those two things. All I know is that the band we saw was so bad that the room actually cleared. How do I create my own art show? It sounds like something I'd be REALLY good at putting together. I have enough artist/designer/photographer friends, I should just start planning. 

I am 2 different people, all the time. Hanna on your left shoulder does nice things for other people and accepts everyone, and she teaches you how to see all of the beauty in the world. She goes to bed at 11 and eats greek yogurt (and works out, but not as often as she should because Daylight Savings Time fucked up her favorite running path). Hanna on your right shoulder falls into bed after 5am and does questionable things that she rarely feels remorse for. The only thing that seems to decide which Hanna appears is the shoulder of the person I'm hanging out on. I'm usually only comfortable in strange situations; "normal" is so boring that it makes me itch. I thrive in environments that allow me to be inappropriate and interesting. I doubt I'll ever be able to change that, and that's just fine.

I'm making it sound like I don't understand myself, but that's not it; it's just weird that whatever I write speaks to two entirely different groups of people: those who see me act like an asshole and those who think I'm a mouse.

I had a laugh with my Mom today when I told her about some of the things I've been doing lately and she mentioned that she did the same exact shit when she was my age. I'm willing to bet some of my actions align with my Dad too, even though we haven't discussed it haha.

I am in soooo much trouble.

The bourbon, the 7am, the colors

I seem to be at a point in my life where I am turned on (artistically) 24 hours a day. Mothers often look back on the beginning of their child's life and say that they truly don't know how they juggled a baby and a job and all the other things that pop up, but when we find ourselves in situations like that, we automatically pull from a little pot of excess energy that we've stored for years, waiting for the perfect rainy day (or year) to spend it. I design when I'm at work and I design when I'm not at work, and even when I'm not designing I'm usually thinking about it in some way. Even when it's just asking someone to explain broken crosses or upside down crosses to me.

I had my first panic attack in early 2010; it landed me in the ER thinking that I was dying as all my muscles locked up from hyperventilation and probably scared the bajeezus out of Mike Cooper, who had to give up our plans of seeing Conan O'Brien do standup to drive me to Cedars-Sinai and watch me try to sign all of my paperwork with a very shaky curled-up hand. It was that day that a very artistic friend told me that when he's stressed out, he focuses on color.

It's very hard to do, but if I have just the right kind of focus I can pull it off. I remove shapes, shades, context, everything...until I can ONLY see the colors around me, and for some reason I feel my stress instantly disappear.

Maybe it's because I surround myself with the colors that make me feel the happiest: grass green and warm pinks, usually. And it's quite obvious that those are the colors that do it for me; look at the Color board that I've been pinning on! My choices are hilariously predictable:

My point is this: I've somehow found my thing. The thing that calms me down and also seems to turn me on. I can look at anything and strip it down until it's only a color. People, even! Some people seem to be colors to me. Maybe it's got something to do with being synesthetic.

I am single. I've been single for a while, but haven't posted about it or written about it because I've felt strange about doing so, and plus it's frankly no one else's goddamn business. BV is a wonderful person and I have no doubt that we'll be friends for the rest of our lives, but we just weren't a good romantic match. It was a beautiful 2.5ish - 3ish years but it became obvious that we were holding each other back from being the people that we enjoy being. I feel sad about it, really really sad. But even within that sadness I understand how necessary it was. I suppose the lack of relationship has been motivating me too. I wasn't creatively stifled before, but when I suddenly find myself with no obligations, the world becomes a bit brighter and more colorful. Plus I guess I just really need the distraction of throwing myself into work. So what do I do? I just move on. And I am.

All I know is that I am so relieved and grateful to have a friend like Cindy, who will do anything with me and make it fun, and will even prevent me from feeling bad when I get stupid that-wasn't-meant-for-you text messages in Target while buying bulk Friskies for some stray kittens. Good friends are so rare.

This is what I'm listening to tonight. If you like the song, there's a previously unreleased live version that he put out in 2006 here, it blew my fucking mind.

It's hard for me to find a way
to get through another city day
without thinking about
getting out

Introverted Sonofabitch

If you're a fan of my Facebook page (FYI if you're not a fan you're pissing me off right now), you know that last week I posted something about how Cassie from Witty Title Here and I made something awesome, and that you'd probably find out about it this week. Well here it is, my loves! We teamed up to create a little somethin' that you can put on your own blog and a way to spread the news that introverts are not, in fact, a bunch of lonely freaks.

I was raised on a dirt road in the middle of the nowhere with no neighbors and no brothers and sisters. My parents are introverts. I had very few friends until I got to Jr. High, and I had a terrible time trying to fit in when I was growing up. I always preferred to sit on the sidelines and observe rather than immediately join in. Most would say I was "set up" for being introverted.

BUT (and this is a very big but):

The difference between being an introvert and being shy/quiet is that I would've turned out this way no matter where or how I was raised. Introversion is an actual sensitivity to dopamine due to different dominant neuro-pathways. We are not raised to be introverted, just as we are not raised to be gay or straight or mentally disabled or musical prodigies. We are born with it, and it is part of us no matter how much we do or do not nurture it. We cannot fix it, nor is it something that should need fixing to begin with.

Until about a year ago, I paid no attention to the fact that introversion was my most defining trait. I wondered why I constantly felt like I wasn't getting what I wanted from the people in my life even though I knew that I loved them and that they were good people.

This article was the first thing I found (I believe it was Evi that shared it, so thank you!) that made me pay attention because I finally felt understood. Those last 2 lines especially were a game changer, because that's what I seemed to struggle with most. Carl King also wrote an amazing post about this that's worth a read! The reason Cassie and I put this together is because we want to celebrate the fact that we are introspective, observant, reserved people. We notice things that others may not. We take our time and only say the things that we know will make a difference. We recharge when - and only when - we are by ourselves. And we don't want anyone else to feel guilty or wrong for having trouble with what our very extraverted society believes to be "normal."

So here’s where you come in. If you’re an introvert, and you feel as though you’ve been misperceived as shy/slow/weird/irrelevant because of who you are, we invite you to put one of these badass badges (Go here for the downloads and more info!) on your blog and write a post based on the following prompt: Just because I'm introverted, it doesn't mean...

Here are mine:

It doesn't mean I'm shy.
I have no shortage of opinions or things to say. EVER. I am loud and obnoxious and feisty, but only for certain people. Introverts are usually extremely picky about who they open up to: not just in love, but in casual conversation. It takes a while to decide if I want to subject someone to all my nonsense. And I can tell you with absolute certainty: when someones tries to draw it out of me, it usually doesn't work.

It doesn't mean I can still function like an extravert.
This is especially true at work. At my first job, I used to get put on the spot often. "Just throw some ideas at me," is a phrase that makes me panic. It's not how my mind works, and it doesn't help me produce results. Instead, it makes me retreat and feel inadequate because I can't spit out ideas like other people can. What I need in order to do my best work is to stand back and observe for a while. I may not have a lot to say while everyone brainstorms out loud as a team, but I promise that I am paying very close attention. When I feel that I've come up with a quality idea, I'll share it and work very hard to see it come to life. But I can almost guarantee that the great ideas won't come to me until I'm left alone.

It's also true in relationships. It's hard for introverts and extraverts to be together. The extravert will likely feel a bit neglected, and the introvert will likely feel a bit overwhelmed. It's perfectly acceptable for a date to want to take me out and introduce me to all his friends, and I'd love to do that to show him that I'm interested in his life - but the thought of it makes me shudder because it's just too much stimulation at one time. A balance and an understanding of this has to be reached for a relationship to survive.

It doesn't mean I'm a bitch!
Trust me, me being a bitch is an entirely separate issue ;) When I was growing up I was branded as a bitch because I sat back and watched my classmates before I joined in. If I didn't feel comfortable joining in, I wouldn't, and there was not a damn thing anyone could do about it. That doesn't go over well in school!

We hope you’ll join in and spread the love with this idea! And when you do, send me a link to your post so I can check you out (wink). I'll make sure to post each link on the downloads page!

Once again - the link to the downloads page.

Introverts UNITE (Individually!)

je fleuris

je fleuris / i am blooming.

You know what I forgot? I forgot my blog's own birthday. What a bad parent (like ANYONE expected differently, lol). Excelsior Lady turned 1 year old on November 11th. This baby was born on 11/11/11 - check out that lonely first post! - which means you will probably always be able to make a wish on my blog, and I hope it comes true.

What has happened in the past year of my life? A whole fucking lot, actually. And this playlist I'm listening to is making me all emotional about it. I don't think I'm ready to dive into it here yet, but maybe in a few weeks or something. I know it's not Thanksgiving yet, but I feel like I have a lot to feel grateful for. Everyone always says they have great people in their lives, but I really think I have them all beat. There is so much beauty in my life that I don't know what to do with it all, besides sit around and smile at nothing like a crazy person. How did I get here?

I would like to thank Martin and Erin tons and tons for nominating (and second-ing) me for December's blogger of the month on 20sb! They are awesome. If you haven't cast a vote yet and ya like me, here's the discussion topic. I wouldn't mind being featured ;)

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Strange things happening lately. I am shifting and staying put all at the same time.

This has been in my head all day - I'd embed it buuuut apparently you can't watch it on Blogger for copyright reasons. Gorillaz - Don't Get Lost In Heaven

I FINALLY went to the Museum of Jurassic Technology over the weekend; it was...dark and confusing? I loved it. I probably could've taken a few photos inside even though they ask everyone not to, but I totally forgot because it was just so friggen interesting. There's also a rooftop garden where everyone can enjoy the free tea that they give out to visitors - it's tranquil and beautiful and I think my heartbeat slowed down quite a bit while I was up there. If you're trying to propose to me or feed some birdies or impress me or somethin', that's a good place to take me.

I feel the same as I did 3 hours ago or 3 weeks ago or 3 years ago, really. My heart feels full and I look at things in a different way than most. I'm just having trouble figuring out where to put it all. For the past few years I've struggled a bit with feeling like I wasn't "normal" enough - especially lately. Not that I'd ever want to be NORMAL normal. You know what I mean, though? I'm a wildcard and I don't mesh with the desires/expectations of so many people, but when I do, it is an electric explosion of color and light and is, quite frankly, a relief. I will happily take a great conversation with one person that truly understands me over 100 conversations about boring shit with another. I'm just not a "filler" kind of person. I have to keep reminding myself that there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Maybe no one knows what I'm talking about.

Also important to note: I forgot how much I love Maurice Ravel. The orchestral version of Le Tombeau De Couperin takes my breath away sometimes. Listen with me?

Another human interest story

I love this Niagara Detroit giclee.

The music I listen to is different lately. I never got into punk and I always hated The Pretenders (maybe I just hated I'll Stand By You? The chord progressions in that song make me GAG), but I suddenly started listening to them and fell in love with this song, among others. I started listening to Butthole Surfers and a song called Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues by Fight Like Apes. I started listening the The Velvet Underground and Patti Smith and more Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds and I feel really grateful for music that isn't constantly about love and sunshine and rainbows because it's so much more interesting. Melodies are more complex, chords are more dissonant. I love that kinda stuff even when it has nothing to do with my mindset. I want to be impressed and wonder how they thought of such complex stuff in a song.

The concept of always being decently happy is fucking weird, you guys. Why shouldn't we want to feel everything that there is to feel? I might get pissed off or annoyed or sad, and I might be pretty hard to deal with when I am feeling those things, but let me be very clear: when I am happy I am GLOWING from it because I genuinely appreciate it. I am noticing the tiniest things and seeing everything with rose colored glasses and smiling to myself on the bus and feeling so much love while I watch a homeless man and an elderly man talk about philosophy and marbles and guitars (all in one conversation!) and I feel weightless. If you can feel that same sense of euphoria all the time, more power to you. I'm sincerely jealous. Buuuuut when I think about the people that are "happy all the time" as they put it, they usually just seem boring and desensitized, and I don't believe them. Boring isn't happy. Boring is boring.

I will always want to be fascinated, no matter how emotional I have to get and how hard I have to work to experience it.

I think I've finally met my quarter-life crisis? Haha except within me it has become something resembling a personal renaissance. Feels just fine, I must say.

Oooooooookkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, give me your opinions because I'm sure everyone has some.

Uganda, NYC, Feeeeelings

I'm a big fan of Pope Saint Victor's illustration work, but I think I may have fallen even more in love with the photos from his trip to Uganda. I'm posting some of my favorites below. I've always loved the steamy, lush look of photos taken in Africa and South America.

I feel blah lately. I think it's just a case of the Octobers - I always feel down in the fall. It used to happen because summer would end and I'd be going back to school (and for Buffalo it usually meant the first snow), but even here in LA with no school/blizzards to be tortured with, the feeling is still there. There's a lot of stuff happening in my life that I can't discuss out of respect for others (learned that lesson the hard way! woooooooo), even though I know so many of you beautiful people would have valuable advice and ideas. I'm just a bit weighed down with other people's thangs.

I still find myself editing what I write because of the awful people at my first full-time job. I couldn't say anything that was less than happy - and I STILL find myself thinking that they're going to read this and think, "Hanna is pouting," so I purposely put a positive spin on my life, even when I'm not really feeling it. I can't freaking believe I still do that without thinking. What's even funnier is that I do almost always feel happy and enthusiastic about life! But when I don't, writing about it is something that I'm allowed to do. There are so many things that people do in this world that are detrimental to others or just totally fucking stupid. Writing, tactfully of course, is neither of those. Me expressing a negative feeling in a healthy way like writing is nowhere near as detrimental as me being obligated to surpress every emotion that isn't positive. Honesty about emotion is rare. I intend to speak honestly here in my own little space. If I can't do that, what's the point of writing at all? Silly me for spinning my own life. It doesn't align with my personal brand lol.

Please promise me that you'll always be honest with yourselves, my loves. And I mean really fucking honest. It's critical to your own well-being no matter how scary it is. Your life will be so much richer because of it. At the end of my life, I'm going to be proud of myself for always wearing my heart on my sleeve, even when people don't like it. Even when I don't like it! My life is the only thing I've got and I want to feel everything - even the sad stuff.

Brady and I are flying to NY tonight to see my cousin Audrey get MARRIED this weekend! The last time I saw her was at my Grandma's funeral, so it will be MOST wonderful to hug her under much happier circumstances. She told me wayyy back in 2008 that it was the Real Deal and I believed her; I could just see it in her eyes. I'm excited to be in NYC again too! There is nothing like New York City in the fall :) Or in the winter. Or in the summer. Or in the spring...

Anyway, photos! Photos, Hanna.

View all the pics here, and go like Pope Saint Victor on Facebook!

New Designers.MX playlist comin' atcha in the next post :)