stories

I have a love affair with--you guessed it--stories. We're getting more tangled up in each other, too, as I realize how radically different my life would be without them. If I was dating stories, I would probably advise myself to cool off because this relationship may be just a tad unhealthy.

Yet I don't think about these facts until it's 11:30 at night after five sixths of a Star Wars marathon and I'm gesticulating wildly, telling the most epic tale of babysitting that I've ever told, to my third (and hopefully last) audience. I'm smiling and laughing and cringing and feeling everything and everyone is looking at me and we're so in the moment and I get so hopeful because storytelling is such a beautiful thing about being human and being alive and can't it just be like this all the time? Why can't everyone keep smiling because I'm saying the right thing?

I love making people laugh. There are these constant moments of doubt that I'm not actually as funny as people tell me because most of the time I haven't half a clue what I'm saying or where it's coming from. And sometimes my humour is mean which is a rather unfortunate side effect. It's so hard to create jokes that laugh with rather than at.

But I'm trying. With every word that I say, I'm improving my craft of this incredibly human activity. Every story, every blog, every chapter of my neglected novels has gotten me a little better at the thing that I love the most.

I don't consider myself exceptional at lying like John Green but I think I'm good at telling stories. And even if I'm not, I won't be stopping any time soon. I don't even think I know how.

sick people should go to bed

I always forget how much I hate being ill. I mean, I remember the fact that it wasn't a good time, but it's not until my nose won't stop dripping and my eye is twitching and my throat aches that I realize how sucky it is to be sick.

This blog post has no point.

"and I'm only me when I'm with you"

Taylor Swift inspires the most thought provoking Saturday afternoon dish washing moments of all other songwriters. Honestly.

So I'm standing there scrubbing away at a cup measure this afternoon and reevaluating my distaste of the song "I'm Only Me When I'm With You." See My Relationship Progression With This Song:

1. Bobbing along. Oooh, this is kind of catchy.
2. Furrowed brow. Wait a second, this is a dependency song.
3. Slow nodding. Okay, she's talking about her best friend. That's cool, right?
4. Head scratching. Hold on, why is it okay to only be yourself around your best friend but not around a guy? 
5. Quizzical expression. Shame! I know EXACTLY what she's talking about. I'm dependent!
6. Squinty look. But then it is about a guy?
7. Head-desk. I'm so confused. What is my stance?

It recently occurred to me that I don't have to have a ideological "stance" to every song on my iPod but still, I think about these things. And I've made it clear in the past that I don't support the intricacies of Taylor Swift's tendency towards passivity and pining. But this song has shaken it all up by the mere fact that I associate with it so closely.

I know what it's like to feel so close to a person that your empathy transcends almost everything. I've felt like I couldn't be myself when I wasn't around this person/people. I've been a part of something that feels greater than myself, been half of a whole.

What does that say about me and does it even matter? And when you start to realize that a lot of what you thought was silly or wrong or cynical or close-minded, is that called maturity or just life? Seriously, what are the chances I'll look back on this point in time, everything I stand for and believe in, and think, "Wow, I can't believe I thought that. I was so... *insert adjective here*"

*gasp* Am I actually growing as a person?

BTAWIA

It's called a goal, people, just because my blogs have gone down to monthly since April does not mean I cannot handle a challenge.

So yes, I will be blogging thrice* a week in August. Let's do this.

With the preliminaries out of the way, I must say: I really want to get into Pottermore. At first, with the vagueness, I wasn't that into it. But I feel like the hype has caught up to me, along with a feverish desire to be a part of it.

The problem, of course, is that I'm working every day from 8:30-3:30 and the next clue get's dropped anytime from 6am-10pm PST, according to Mugglenet. Yes, that's a couple hours of possibility but I really don't want to get up at 6 and then have to leave/get ready before the clue is out.

And now I'm whining. Greeeeaaat. First day of BTAWIA and I've already resorted to self pity. I'm just going to stop myself. Right now.

*Twice at RP, once here.