nutting up, not shutting up.

Today was the beginning of the end of any free time I might have left. I'm okay with it, though, because I had probably one of the best pre-working-full-time vacations. The majority of my time was spent upstate, specifically Rosendale. If you have not been, I highly suggest it. It's inspiring up there. Seeing it again, I was filled with something completely indescribable. One of the days I went for a three and a half hour hike around an area called the Snyder Estate all by myself. About two hours in, I started crying out of nowhere. A while ago I came across this medical 'disorder' called Stendhal Syndrome (thank you, Dario Argento.) Basically, it's where one literally gets sick or goes crazy from being in the presence of art (insert wikipedia here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stendhal_syndrome I still don't know how to insert links, so cut and paste.) I almost felt like I was hallucinating how beautiful everything was while I was trekking around. It was so overwhelming that I just couldn't help myself and had tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt dizzy. I felt like how I feel on the days when I accidentally forget to take my crazy pills, which is completely an out of body experience and it's as if I'm floating and not actually doing the things that I know I am, like walking or breathing or feeling or all of the above. Reality stopped existing for me. That whole week makes me want to rent a little two-bedroom place somewhere upstate so I can just make art and hike (i.e. run naked through the woods like the deer-in-headlights I am.) However, I realize that in order to do the things I want to with my art, that it's pretty much necessary for me to move in or around the city. It's just one of those things that has to happen. Up until two months ago, this was not my plan. I mean, I really didn't have much of a plan but whatever it was had nothing to do with New York. I was done with it. We had broken up and I was attempting to move on with my life. But, as is true with most things in my life that I believe to have ended, I'm going back to him. New York is my Beau. He is my love and my life. In any event, the move to the city'ish area has to happen. After being away upstate, though, I want so much to move back up there. I graduated from college two years ago, and went to school in that area (SUNY New Paltz, my alma) and this was my first extended trip up since I moved out of my last apartment (le sigh.) It was perfection. I forgot how much I need nature and that continuous stimulation that only the woods can give you (me.) Don't get me wrong, I'm a beach babe at heart. I fucking love the ocean. New York may be my boyfriend, but the ocean is the love of my life and (if she was real) I'd drop trou for her in a second (yes, the ocean is a she.) Somehow, she just can't give me the same sort of stimulation that a three hour hike in the mountains can. Anyway. I'm torn now. Yet again life has thrown me a (running the risk of sounding cliche, here) curve ball to fuck my shit up. It's time for me to nut up or shut up and by golly I'm whipping those nuts out and making some mother-fucking peanut butter, Sasquatch damn-it all to Nessie!


Blah, blah, blah, yakkitty-shmakkity, life reflection, life reflection, life reflection oh, and this guy:

Because I Just Can't Help Myself!!

http://www.playboy.com/articles/john-mayer-playboy-interview/index.html?page=2


Dear John Mayer,

I fucking love you, man. If I had an extra $100,000 to throw away, I would pay you to continue spatting all of the stupid shit that comes out of your mouth because it makes me laugh so hard I pee a little. Seriously. Keep on keeping on, John Mayer. Thanks.

Diane

You're just going to have to copy and paste, I can't figure this whole 'link' thing out. Help?

I shouldn't be awake, but that's okay

This keyboard feels amazing underneath my fingertips and I can't help but continuosly tap them. Maybe it's too much but life is too much sometimes. So. Not a fan of this continuous feeling, but I don't know how to get rid of it either. Rambling, yes. Help it? No. Thank goodness I'm a non doing non things otherwise I might feel like a loser. Ha, it's funny 'cause it's true... Well, actually it may not be funny at all.

Something I Should Take Into Consideration

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100312/ap_on_he_me/eu_med_the_pill_longevity


I have yet to join the masses! Looks like more of my years are being shaved off than packed on...

Life and Lemons

I realized last night, that I tend to spend at least five hours a week looking at flights (specifically on priceline.com; Dear William Shatner, I love you.") Unfortunately, I never have enough money (or a credit card, which would be dangerous in my mitts) to spontaneously book a flight like I so desperately want to. Well. I've decided that the first flight I find that costs $30 or less, I am going to book. I never really felt at home anywhere and something inside of me is saying, "Hey, Diane. I'm pretty sure that you were meant to go to this place and possibly live there. Do what you want, but I truly believe you should buy this ticket before it's too late and life has completely passed you by and you're still at home living with your parents and working at a menial job where you feel like nobody listens to you (actually, most of the time they really aren't listening to me as I learned today after I spent at least two minutes talking to myself, which is not a very good feeling and not something that I would liken to having sex, which is clearly a very good feeling... most of the time.)" Sometimes I feel like a fly stuck to that gross fly killing icky sticky tape that hangs from the ceiling and boys don't take down from their rooms for what seems like months (yes, I know this person.) They're fucking dead. Remove the shit and start anew. Right, back to me being a fly... There are moments when I think I can break free from that morbidly disgusting tape and start my own little colony of flies in some back-alley dumpster behind the best French restaurant around (oooh, or Japanese. I would so lay my eggs in that extra portion of chicken teriyaki that overweight fat kid shouldn't have ordered in the first place. Man up, kid. If you're gonna do it then do it right.) So, I pull away from the tape and my face rips off a little bit, maybe the tip of a leg or two (I really need those feelers, this becomes problematic.) Right as I'm about to totally break free ("They can take our land, they can take our women, but they will never take our freedommmm!!" *insert picture of me mooning you all; it's okay I have a great ass*) this huge gust of wind blows my way and ONCE AGAIN, I am a fucking fly stuck to that same piece of tape that little shit of a dude (actually, he's a very nice person) WON'T THROW OUT! Ugh. Whatever.

Dear Priceline.com or William Shatner or any airplane company that flies out of New York,

Hey, how's it going? I would really appreciate it if you would fulfill my destiny and give me a cheap one-way ticket to somewhere that isn't here. Ideally, I would prefer a place that is both warm and tropical but I'm willing to negotiate (Priceline, I know you are a fan of this whole 'negotiating' thing. Hook a bitch up, motherfuckers.) Thank you so much for your consideration and be sure to send me an e-mail (I'm green-ing it, so no letters) as soon as you figure it out. I'm leaving it up to you. But, remember: $30 or less!!!

Love,

A confused fly with her wings clipped and a feeler or three missing.

And THIS Guy...

Woman With Maggot In Head
Uploaded by LSD25. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

Yup. That's right. EAT IT UP!!!

Alottalittlebittle...

I go through stages where I either love, love, LOVE listening to music and have something constantly going, OR I am so tired of all of this bullshit-crappy-too-snappy-hip-da-dip-moveitlikeamidget bad, bad music and want nothing to do with it at all. Currently, I am loving contemporary musique. There are, specifically, three to four new bands that I have discovered for the pleasure of my ears, head, brain, soul, body, feet, hands, mouth... well, you get the point. So, here are the names of some bands that make me leak so much that if it was water that was leaking there would be enough to bottle up and save the world from drought (naturally, they would be bottled in nalgenes, so as to cut down on plastic and everyone can re-use their ab-fab bottles to fill with more of my leaky water.)
So, here they are:

1.Florence + The Machine
2. Passion Pit
3. The Heavy
4. Frightened Rabbit
5. Friendly Fires
6. Ida Maria
7. Girl Talk

Alright, so it was a few more than three and I could probably keep on going. Shoot me, if you so please, but KNOW that I have introduced you to pure brilliance. I mean PURE brilliance! Frightened Rabbit is probably one of my new all-time faves and I truly, truly need to own the album "The Midnight Organ Flight." I don't know if I should cry, scream, dance or laugh or do all at once because, YES, they really are THAT GOOD! As far as Florence + The Machine is concerned they, too, have that effect on me. Although, I have to admit that "Raise It Up" really isn't my favorite song. If it weren't for that song, I would be able to listen to that album (it's called "Lungs," by the way) the entire way through. This kid (she's 23, I believe) has a voice that could kill (I shall forgive the fact that she's a ginger due to this detail) and her lyrics are brilliant. For example:

"But he sang louder and louder inside the house,
and then I couldn't get him out.
So I trapped him under a cardboard box
and stood on it to make him stop.
I picked up the bird and above the din I said,
'That's the last song you'll ever sing.'
Held him down,
broke his neck.
Taught him a lesson he wouldn't forget!"

I mean, come ON! How morbidly wonderful is that?! Makes my skin crawl and my mouth curl upwards. Love it, love her.

As far as Girl Talk is concerned, this one-dude-music-making-madman will make you want to shake so badly the area around you will end up looking like Haiti (too soon?). I've only listened to two of his albums, which are actually just compilations of stuff he's deejay'd (is that right?) at shows/clubs/wherever else it is deejays play. Of the two, "Feed the Animals" is my favorite. Apparently he has many, so go yonder and download and to each her (heh) own. You can find him on illegal-art.net, a site where you can either download for free or pay a little something-something to help the cause.

So, off you go, my little darlings. Fly away to Frostwire, itunes, amazon, bestbuy, target or wherever else it is one can purchase music. Fly away and give yourself something to appreciate for LIFE!

Some Of My Listability

Once Upon A Newbie

Today I realized that I have a mild obsession for doing things. Right now, my obsession is to do everything in my power NOT to do the things that I should be. I am a list-maker, I make lists like it's my fucking job (is there any such job like that, and if so please let me know as I am currently searching, *wink*.) I have papers taped to my bed (with a plethera of pens on stand-by) telling me, "Hey, Diane. You should probably go to the post office today. That way you can get rid of this awful movie you just watched (called Once, it was simply terrible, with the exception of the music but let me tell you the rest was borrrrring) and await the new dvd (3rd season of Arrested Development, I'm heavily leaking.)" Or, there's the always constant reminder to shower that day, or to eat and take my pills. Staples. Sometimes, though, it's hard not to get side-tracked by things. Whoosh, I am GOOD at that! If there was an award for "Biggest Procrastinator," I would certainly be in the running. There's another award I've always (by always I mean 18 and older) felt should belong to me, but that's a private for another time that only a select few actually get to experience. Ahem. Too much? Anyway, I suppose it's time to scratch something off the list. Shower, maybe? *Sniff* Hmm...