Draw Something Every Day

My new goal. No excuses, nothing special. Just draw something. I stayed up until 3 last night reading this book about Bill Watterson, the creator of Calvin and Hobbes. The book was so incredibly inspiring, and the funniest thing about it was that the author never even spoke to Bill Watterson. He's a complete recluse. He doesn't see any reason people should be interested in him as a person. He changed millions of lives with Calvin and Hobbes, a kid and his tiger, and he has no idea why people want to know him.
I hope that my art changes like, one person's life. Someday.

It's easy to draw a picture of my outfits. 

Today I am very autumnal, eating pho. It's that kind of day. 

Palm Talk

Day off today. The thing about me is, I am not so great at relaxing and doing nothing, as is usually a popular choice on one's day off.

I want a project, I want a purpose.

I have a couple brewing in my mind, but never put them into practice. That in itself drives me insane! I have these wonderful ideas,  but I can't set my mind to it because... Why?

I'm worried it won't work? I'd rather browse other people's wonderful ideas on the internet?

I had my palm read the other day. No, I did not pay 60 dollars and my firstborn child. And I don't normally believe in that kind of thing. I'm cynical enough to feel like I'm getting ripped off or tricked, but enough of a child to want to believe that my entire life is written on my skin. It's the most romantic thing I've ever heard; my body being it's own book.

As the creepy french lady bent over my left palm I struggled to keep a poker face. That's how they know, I thought, your facial expressions tell them they're on the right track!

"Mmm, you're very creative. Very artistic. Lots of ideas and passion, but you don't use it. It's right here, through your life line and love line. It's part of your life, but you don't DO anything with it. You need to use your art. You can't wait for things to HAPPEN to you. You must make them happen. You are a great communicator, but strong and in charge in love. You'll have many disappointments in love. You can't make love happen.

Listen, don't talk. Listening is better then talking. That is how you'll know him."

I was a little creeped out. Is it like a horoscope, and I'm hearing things I want to hear, or things that make sense to me?

Do better, be better. Follow your passion. I'm sorry lady palm reader; it's so hard when I'm in my bathrobe and there's leftover pizza in my fridge. 

Incredibly Introspective and Preachy

You know what's gross you guys? Right now I am at a coffee shop in Seattle.
Blogging.
In a scarf.
And you know I am drinking me a wet cappucino.
Despite this, me being out in the world with other people, sitting here on our computers together, I feel strangely disconnected. And I've been thinking a lot about why that is.
There was a time when people had journals, or diaries and they poured their bitter thoughts and feelings about unrequited love, or how fat their ass is, or how much they need to get laid right onto those little pages with the cartoon kittens on them.
These days we take those thoughts and feelings and vomit them out into the internet where strangers can read them and... What?
Judge you? Empathize with you? Feel smug in the knowledge that they are somehow better because they aren't feeling angst-y on that particular Tuesday?
And I don't know if it's healthy, or kind. Especially if you are writing about other people, as I tend to do.
It's this kind of self celebration that facebook and twitter and blogger all succeed with.
I guarantee that a person that writes "God today is a deep pit of despair and doom" on their facebook, will reply "Great! How are you?" to the age old question: How are you doing?

What is that? Why does the faceless facebook allow us freedom to be whiney and judgmental and bad without feeling any guilt about it?
Perhaps because when we post our status about how much our day sucked, we see a million other voices proclaiming the same thing on our "news feed".
EVERYONE'S DAY SUCKED.
If I wrote all the things down that I've ever written on facebook in an actual BOOK and left it at work, or a coffee shop, I would probably be mocked mercilessly for my diary.

Which brings us to this blog.
Sometimes I can be very catty and bitchy and bitter. These are the bad things (Oh just the tip of the iceberg really) about me. Sometimes I write about things, and then the next day I feel completely different and I wish wish wish I could have never written it. That's probably not healthy.
I guess when I started this blog I was really lonely, and really angry I was lonely.
I suppose that I also felt my life was in need of a theme.
"23 year old single in the city" seemed fun and witty and something people would want to read about. Something I wanted to write about.
But instead 23 has been incredibly hard and confusing. And not romantic or sassy single girl living at all.

It's been me; painting my walls and learning to hail a taxi and ride the bus and fix my leaky toilet.
So as much as it may pain you to hear this, I don't think that being single is my theme.
I think figuring out my theme is my theme?
(ITS SO DEEP)

So instead of writing about the failures of men, or okcupid or my romantic fantasies that involve a bookstore and coffee:
I am going to write about me. Living here! In this city. And yes, there will be some nods to men in my life as they come and go. That is probably inescapable.
But mostly it will be about how much I love Than Brothers, and the monorail even if it's full of tourists.
It will be about the color of all the trees in Queen Anne and the millions of colors of the leaves and the matching scarves of all the children around the fountain in the Seattle Center.
I want to explore everything, and connect with people. I want to meet everyone and write about everything I see that I love, and some things that I don't.

I want to write about it if you want to read about it. Hell, I actually don't care if you're reading it. I'll write about it anyway.