ahr-tik-yuh-lit v. ahr-tik-yuh-leyt

i am always talking about how i wish i was more articulate. "using language easily and fluently; having facility with words: an articulate speaker." in my mind this means i so wish i could put down on paper more craftily and seamlessly the thoughts sling-shooting themselves around in my nonsensical brain.

in short, i want to ahr-tik-yuh-leyt (express, formulate, and present with clarity and effectiveness) my thoughts more eloquently.

i already know i'm ahr-tik-yuh-lit (able to speak clearly in distinct syllables). thanks, Sacred Heart.




other words that come to mind:

loquacious- lovely word for (oftentimes, in my book) not so lovely people

capricious- if only this word were slightly less compulsive-female and more mischievous, whimsical, unconventional gypsy

hackneyed- say the word "significance" 20 times. ya see?

verisimilitude- i just like it, ok?

ethos- who needs a stereotype when you have an ethos.... ah, pat harris.

ethereal- all things ethereal are good. and i don't mean a solution containing (C2H5)2O, although i do love low boiling points and fire.

ébouriffant- Incroyable, extraordinaire

dénouement- so....[post]climactic

carte blanch- that's what's up

double entendre- i like you just because you're cleaver enough to do it. hopefully sexually.

unctuous- love the way the phonetics make me hate the people

chagrin- because embarrassing is embarrassing, but "much to her chagrin..." yep.

i have tons of other words i love. but i'm sleepy.

oh, mr. wilde...

consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

and, quite frankly, it's getting on my nerves.

i can't understand how people don't realize that THIS IS IT. this is your life.

so go ahead, live by some predetermined set of arbitrary rules that apply to the vast (extremely lame) majority.

i'll be over here,

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if you asked me what i came into this world to do, i will tell you. i came to LIVE OUT LOUD.
-emile zola

YAWP!
-whitman

if you can't beat 'em

join 'em.

or in this case if you can't beat or defy them, be the weirdest mother fucker that has ever passed through the doors of their place o' business.

i have decided, effective as immediately as i walk through the doors tomorrow, to circumvent(?better word?) the ipod conundrum.

if i may not, indeed, listen to my ipod at work, i will, each night, sit down with my (measly) 10,000+ song library and write out a play list for the next day. an 8 hr set list of thought-bliss and mind-music. for that's the only place it will be played. my mind.

this means i must set about at the task of learning each song: lyrically, vocally, instrumentally... and maybe even learning what plays in which channel (for this is half of the experience sometimes).

my task is 3-fold and will be learned in progressive/additive stages. they are as follows:
1) learn lyrics and all associated harmonies/backups/shoo-ops/doo-ops
2) learn, instrumentally, all intros/outros/bridges/tremolos/flam taps/harmonics/shreds
3) learn all the other shit

then comes the best part:
playing the songs in my head, in said list-order, and effectively singing to them as one would if he/she was listening to an ipod via ear buds, forgetting that he/she is, in fact, singing aloud, most likely off key, and others can hear him/her.

my nose ring would pale in comparison.

s-p-e-l-l i-t o-u-t
for me

my (equations & constants) mind

i want the answers
if only to move on to bigger&better answers

i went to the woods...

to get the fuck away from this mediocrity. i know, you were thinking "to live deliberately." alas, i am no Thoreau; i need to crawl before i can walk.

(already this job has got me 8to5ing and going home to cook and watch tv. meanwhile, i feel the sting of guilt, remembering i told myself i would ride 10 miles a day as soon as the work-day was up)<---- NOT what i want my life to look like.

is the job worth it? no. do i need the medical insurance and $9.00[taxable] an hour? i..i...guess....? such is the plight of living in the, what are we calling them...? fuck it. we'll call it "this day and age." this crappy cycle of getting a bachelor's degree and working a job you despise with every fiber of your being has been going on for decades now. it's too bad it's weaseled it's way into feminism and we can't just get married before we hit 21 and stay at home and breed more miserable 8to5ers. (hahaha, don't kill me. i'm only joking (and puking.))<--did i do that right? 8th grade grammar has lost me...

so i have this desire to get in my car and drive away this weekend. to where? probably the ocean. my heart always wants to be water-side or in front of a good band. [any good shows this weekend?!?!] this would definitely be at a cost. no, no. i'm not talking about the $. i'm going to have to hear bitching from friends about not attending a wedding, which i don't believe in anyway (at least not in the conventional sense). and probably from other people about other things. i know there are other obligations i'm supposed to break my back over this weekend......probably even overtime i should be putting in at work, what with the big case load and all.

the only respite i find is when my recently-stifled mind wanders off to thoughts of grad school and a career i love and traveling and philanthropizing. but then my jaded/cynical/pessimistic mind quickly reverts to the "...and if you die tomorrow..?" i'd be one pissed off...corpse.

wow

this picture makes me laugh, as i think about Mickers dancing on the table to NKOTB.

overworked and underfed

life is a series of events.
unfortunate.
exciting.
overwhelming.
meaningful.
depressing.

how do we fit these things together? what makes us able to cope or not cope? why do we select certain memories to hold onto?

It's a weird thing: the mind. lately mine has been overworked (with other people's bullshit) and underfed (with good, useful info). i plan to change this.

recently i have done a little spring cleaning in terms of what my mind will be used for. let me explain.it's been one of those weeks where i feel really fed up with humans in general, and especially the people who are close to me [proximity as well as friendship, bc i think some ppl confuse the two these days]. i have, for the past year or so, heard about myself and my life from scores of people who don't know anything about what they're saying. i have finally cut these people out of my life. no more over thinking the dumb things like: who will talk about this to who, who can i trust with my feelings, etc.

and in terms of the underfeeding: i plan on teaching myself something useful every month. i will start with geography this month, something sacred heart failed to slip into any of its $10,000 a year, 13 years of curriculum. also, i will teach myself french this summer.

it's things like this that keep me alive. not ridiculous people who complain constantly and bring nothing but negativity to the table.



the people in/ associated with these pictures are golden. this is what it's about.



what does it matter when you leave?
my eyes tear up and you can't see