bucket of sunshine

In defense of poop, it’s pretty great. Think of all that delicious and (maybe not-so) nutritious food you put into that amazing body of yours. What becomes of it? Yes, your digestive system extracts all the nutrients, and we grow big and strong! But what becomes of all the mouth-watering feasts that we indulge in? Poop!

You can tell a lot about a person from their relationship with their BMs; whether they’re open with others about it or whether they view it as a disgusting habit that must be suffered in silent dignity or a beloved ritual to begin a bright new day, its all a matter of perspective!

In fact, everything is a matter of perspective. I like to think of myself as a realistic optimist. I like to see the world in a positive light, where intentions are pure and poop is just a memento of yesterday’s scrumptious meals. People do what they think is the right (or best) thing for their world, and the world is a beautiful place.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m by all means not a crazy person (hopefully). Sunshine is the forecast most days, but I live not in rainbows and butterflies. I do take into account scenarios that aren’t necessarily the most favorable. The thought processes that go into those are best saved for another day, but suffice it to say that I do tend to take my accounting for negative possibilities to horrid extremes. But there’s always another day, and another satisfying union of gluteous muscles with its porcelain friend somewhere beyond the horizon. How can one possibly not be optimistic with such glorious prospects?

(Source: pleatedjeans)

on arrogance

I was recently accused by a good friend of sitting on an academic high horse. I don’t believe it was meant as an insult, merely a snappy retort to a comment I had just made, that a passerby that I was acquaintances with was dumb. I probably deserved it, but it also made me think. The academic high horse I sit astride is one of intellectual superiority; I fully believe that I am indeed more intelligent than almost everyone. And until I’m proven wrong, I’m staying atop this horse, thanks.

But before anybody begins searching for burning torches and stakes to hunt me down with for such arrogance, let me qualify that intelligence is relative and standards vary based on field of study, factors considered, and personal preference. How do you measure an individual’s intelligence or worth? Is it with an IQ test or GPA? Or do we look at ability to arouse scintillating conversation, or to throw together an informative yet stimulating presentation on a mundane topic? Or perhaps its the ability to manipulate situations and others into conditions that best suit one’s own interests. Which one am I?

One thing is certain however, nobody likes an arrogant ass. At the same time, everyone admires confidence. Aha, paradox! Here, I think I’ve discovered a key to succeeding (aka bullshitting) through life.

It’s in part the knowledge that you are, in fact, better than everyone else. And you must be able to prove it, to yourself as well as others. After all, all talk and no walk makes but a cripple. And lastly, but most importantly, you must not believe that you are actually better than anyone else. Because if everyone hates you, whats the point of being better than them? Bragging to a wall is pretty boring, if you ask me.

Ok I do this. But with a few differences. The cookie, pizza, milkshake, and milkshake are 100% accurate, I do enjoy my unhealthy foods. But only if they’re from wholesome places like Whole Foods or at least don’t contain hydrogenated oils.

As for the Starburst, who even likes citrus flavoured candy? No thanks, I’ll stick to strawberry and watermelon. You can keep all the lemon and orange.

And I’ll take the veggies, all the veggies!

(Source: pleatedjeans)

You know those stories where people get a free wish and they wish for wealth and power, but then it ends up making their lives forever? And the moral of the story is to wish for happiness for others, or some other patronizing, paternalistic trifle? So what’s the point? You can’t get what you want, and at the end of the day, you don’t really know what other people want. Or what if I were just a terrible malicious human being with no sense of humanitarianism? Or what if I wished to end hunger in African children, and it happened, but at the cost of my own children going hungry? No thank you.

Come to think of it, I’d just rather not have strangers grant my wishes. I like to work for my wishes. Although admittedly I do enjoy getting things for free. The free things in life are the best. That’s besides the point though.

All I want in life is to do something meaningful and be rich. And eat all the good food in the world and stay in shape. And I guess a good lay once in a while I wouldn’t mind either. I’m not picky.

(Source: crimesagainsthughsmanatees)

I decided my spirit animal is either a cow or a hippo. We are super adorable and love to munch all day. And we’re a little slow too. Perhaps we’re not the most graceful of mammals, but damnit we find ways to get around. And I wouldn’t say I’m hungry per se, but I wouldn’t mind splitting a blooming onion either.

Ok I’m probably a cow, but hippos are cute too!

(Source: worldlyanimals)

Damn it, I totally know what I have to do. So why don’t you just shut up and do it, I ask myself. Well for one, I’m feeling extra lazy, and I don’t feel like it. So there.

Procrastination is pretty great and pretty terrible. It lights a fire under my ass, but before I actually start doing what I’m supposed to be doing, it makes me feel worse and worse every second that I don’t. Then all at once the guilt eats me up and I grudgingly trudge to my desk to get some work done. Or out of nowhere I realize that I only have an hour until the deadline, and I frantically crank out sub-par efforts by the bucketful.

As terrible as procrastination is though, it could never hold a candle to actually not having anything to do (But only for an extended period of time. Are you kidding, vacations are great), or even worse, not knowing what to do. Now that one, it’s pretty damn tragic.

(Source: explodingdog)

I want sushi and ramen. And fish and shit made out of rice. They’re delicious. Also I want a cat. But I’ll probably only get 3 out of those 5. I wish I was lucky like the cat.

(Source: pusheen)

The worst is when I wake up an hour before my alarm, but can’t fall back asleep. I don’t mind waking up 5 minutes before, but in an hour I could’ve had so many dreams! I love dreaming. Actually, I love any kind of mind-wandering, even if I’m just sitting around staring at a wall.

I don’t remember most of my dreams, but a few will always be stuck in my mind. As a child I dreamed once that my mother was in the shower; but instead of water, cockroaches streamed out of the showerhead. Then my dad rushed in and tried to squash the bugs, but to no avail. Then I woke up. This one was not so pleasant.

Also from my childhood, I remember something about a red shoe lost in some bushes on the side of the road. Now, I can’t remember if that was a dream or just a distant memory. But in all fairness, is there really a difference?

Another dream (and this was definitely a dream) I saw a whirling skirt. This wasn’t just any skirt, it strongly resembled one skirt I already owned. But it was whirling, like if a girl wore it and spun in a circle, minus the girl. The color palette of the fabric was warm, lots of oranges and yellow and green, gently swirled in white background. Except I saw a much more vivid moving amalgamation of colors, twirling in the lack of breeze.

And then I wonder, if my dreams are this great how amazing and/or terrible would my brain be on drugs? Too damn amazing.

(Source: crimesagainsthughsmanatees)

It happens, doesn’t it? You have insecurities, they drive you crazy. It happens. One day it’s “I’m not good enough” and the next it’s “Nobody likes me.” And deep down we all know our worst fears are unfounded, but what if they really aren’t?

I like to think that I’m a secure person. I’m healthy and have a wonderful body that does everything I could ever ask of it, I’m pretty enough to get what I want, and I’m most definitely intelligent enough to get as far in life as I want. What more could I ask or? But there’s always that nagging voice at the back of my head, and that sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach that says, no matter how hard I try and no matter how I lie to myself I will never be good enough. And no matter how hard I squint at myself in the mirror and how much much makeup I slather on my face I will never be pretty enough.

All this I’m pretty sure is normal, though. In fact, I’m sure I’m far less insecure than most girls out there. Or am I? And then my anxiety kicks in. What if my friends don’t even actually like me? What if all my peers actually look down on me and think I’m dumb? And the worst insecurity of all, what if everyone around me thinks I smell bad?

And why don’t I harness all the nervous energy into something that’s actually productive? Well that just once again points to my habitual laziness. What a fantastic full circle we have come to.

(Source: crimesagainsthughsmanatees)

competency

I’ve had a Bachelor’s degree for almost a year now. Sure, I’m more educated than most of America, but does that really get me anywhere? I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of being competent since the school year started, and I haven’t been liking my conclusions thus far.

Maybe I’m a little wiser than I was two years ago, or maybe I can just bullshit better. But how will I support myself? And it might just be my field of choice, but it somehow seems like a bachelor’s degree just doesn’t count for shit anymore.

So my choices: 1. get another degree or 2. settle for something less. I refuse to accept the latter choice. But to get to Degree #2 requires a good amount of effort. And I’m lazy. And to even start on Degree #2 requires a certain time frame. And I hate waiting. Why is life so hard?

But now we come again to what defines one person as being competent, or more competent than another. This is relevant in terms of job search successes, acceptances to programs or schools, the awarding of certain titles, and generally all the important things in life. So now that I’ve had this fancy title for so long, how am I more competent? It’s the experience, some say. I guess I’ve experienced a good amount, but a lot of others have gone through a lot more. Sure, I’ve learned a lot in my twenty plus years. Sure, going to school and working have taught me about “life,” but who am I to compare my worth to another individuals? And who are they to think they can actually measure their value against mine?

You’ll get far in life, so many people tell me. Far? Farther than who and compared to what? But what I do know is that somehow I will get what I want sooner or later, I’m sure of that. And I’m planning to have a damn good time doing just that.