pool passes to the masses

I forgot I hada blog!
oh mercy mercy.
How dare I not update the cyberuniverse about the uselessness of my interests!


To acknowledge:
1. summer, kind of wonderful
2. weddings, excuse to buy dresses, love and happiness la la la
3. kitty, gettin a buzzcut for summah
4. sometimes i go shopping at my work. sometimes meaning: too often.

4a. The spoils of my toils:

a dress. the girls at work call it retro. not sure if it is. these days, what does retro even mean? everything is a copy of something old. je ne le vois pas.

scarf. smells like hamsters. however, makes black outfits look summery.

ring with indigo/violet stones, compliments bridesmaids dress. if i'm allowed a big ring with my bridesmaids dress, don't see why not.

seems to me it is best to spend less time researching how we got to where we got.

why so doom and gloom, morninglory?

how much does it cost? I'll buy it. The time is allll we've lost! I'll try iiitttt

I can't make anything, except hummus.
I absolutely love hummus, and sunny days.

On a whim I bought shimmery turquoise nail polish (East Village was the name of the color. it sucked me in.) and currently have it painted on one hand because it is so horrifically terrifyingly ugly. I look like a frozen mermaid swamp-witch.

avoid this shade of nail polish at all costs:
that's the lesson for the day.

garage saling!

sundaynightfeeling

I am an INFP.

which means I spend all of my time concerning my little mind over what exactly I am supposed to become, so that I can fullfill all the prophesies I make up for myself about what I need to become in order to have became me. by the time I am dead. which technically, that could be tomorrow. (left-handed people die on average 6 years before right-handeds. fact.)

so, actually, the life on an INFP is an afflicted one.

everything I say, do, eat for breakfast, I have to try to drown out the voice in my head whispering to me, "Is this blueberry waffle actually my destiny? Should I even be eating breakfast, should I be living here in this house or somewhere else? Why am I not in africa with the rest of the world!?!? WHO AM I!? a blueberry waffle eater. and that's all I'll ever be." cue a subsequent breakdown over my selfishness, images of my mom patting me fondly on the head as I compare which salad-tray design I prefer at Sweet Tomatoes: "awe, my material girl."

gasp!

Is that what I am!?!

as an INFP, this does not settle well with me.

a quest for self-actualization, obession with the dark and morose, agonizing over what things mean or don't mean. always questing for what is "me". that is an INFP. But we're very particular with what we become, what "title" we end up with. A healer. A servant. A philanthropic billionaire. A bride. A photographer that turns empty buildings into castles and freckles into candy. A material girl.

So I sit and I stew about it.

I try to skip a few steps along the road, just so I can know.

I want 5 coats every winter, because maybe one of them, red with brassy toggles or navy with gold piping, maybe a floorlength puffer that looks like cotton candy...will be the one I wear when I walk through the snowy twinkle lights and I suddenly realize, I will need to remember this moment (aha: role of the coat. the coat plays.) because now I know.

But you could have all the coats in the world. (or all the swimsuits, lets not be seasonally biased... although I've always planned on discovering myself during the winter.) and nomatter what the coat, things never change inside an INFP. I will never know but I will always wish wish wish to. such is life.

speaking of wishes: I wish I had some grapes.

green ones. but purple would be fine too.

In other news, I got to tour Nelly Don's old house at the KC Symphony Designer Showhouse yesterday with my mom and grandma. One of my fave spring traditions. It was delovely.