midnight ramblings, repeated.

Honestly, I have no idea what to write about.
I had plenty of great thoughts in my head today, but I'm so tied, I've forgotten all of them. I even carry notebook around with me to record precious thoughts before they flit away forever, but I didn't' have it on me at work.
Pooey.

I've kind of gotten more personal with thee whole writing shindig thing. I hope that's okay.
I don't want to bore your or anything with my real, normal, life.
I'm pretty awfully normal.
An angsty teen who just wants attention.



What a good joke. Did you fall for it, Jo?
My eleven year-old sister is asleep in bed with me right now and I don't want to move her. She twitted something dreadful, though.
I don't know about any other upcoming college freshmen, but I'm really nervous for school. These class are going to blow my mind up. At least that's what everyone keeps telling me.

I'm exaustified. Goodnight, Jo.

P.S. Oh, and a side note. I know I'm not funny. So understand that I know when I sound like I'm trying to be funny, I'm not.

I'm really freaking tired.

Im really tired.
I posted a video today.
I don't know if that was a good idea, but I did it and I'm not going back.
I feel like I'm more ready for school now. Which is good. Except it means I'm leaving really soon. Which is bittersweet.

I really can't think well wrought o do a logical piece of blogging, so goodnight, y'all.
Cee

Meet... me!!!

Who I may/may not be

So, I forgot to tell you the one thing I'm REALLY good at.

Not finishing anything.
I think that's why I like so many things; I get tired of something I just lose the urge to finish just about everything.
Now this is fine when I'm say, doing a craft project or fun; I'm wasting money, but it doesn't affect anyone but myself.But this happens when I'm making meals, when I'm writing this blog, when I find myself not wanting to take care of myself physically anymore.
It's kind of p athletic honestly, and is part of the reason I have low self esteem. I know I won't live up to my potential, and I couldn't tell you why.
 know I'm talented, beautiful, intelligent, and the like, and I'm not bragging; I have great self-awareness. It's just that I hate myself for never using myself to my full abilities. I put myself down.  I hide my unconfidence (is that even a word?) with stunning ensembles, that "only I could pull off," and make myself feel even worse for trying to be something I'm not.
But everything is what I'm not because I don't know who I am, Jo.
I feel like Maggie in Runaway Bride.
Except I don't need a man to tell me I don't know who I am. I figured that out.
Problem is, I do like eggs more than one way. I don't like horses. I want so many different things- I could never choose one.
I love beauty, of that I am sure. But so many things are beautiful, Jo. I can't pick one beautiful thing over another. It's like, to be cliche, apples and oranges.
The problem is, I'm a plum and none knows what's in the pit.


I am so bad at food metaphors.
I guess what I'm saying is I don't want a guy to help me find myself. I want to know who I am, so that when the right guy comes along, I know he knows I know who I am.
Sorry for rambling.
Goodnight.

oopsies...

It's been so long!!!
Okay, I can't lie..... I forgot about you.. :/
But I promise it won't happen again.
Maybe... *fingers crossed*


I am tired and its late, so I'll tuck in.
I'll update you tomorrow.
G'night night, Jo.
MUAH!

Hi Jo.
I'm tired.
Happy fourth of July.
How can the fourth be fun with fireworks banned?

Let me tell you:

You've got to be in the upper midwest.
With maybe people you love.
It has to be between sixty and eighty degrees with a light, cool breeze.
There must be at least six different home baked desserts.
Sparklers must be plentiful.
A little politics chatter as possible is preferred.
A gorgeous moonrise is totally necessary.

That may sound like boring, but I am content with my fourth.
Have fun with your drinking and partying, I'm enjoying America the beautiful and her golden amazing citizens who still believe in the Founding Father's idea of a free nation.
and yes, Jo, I will say it.
I'll shout it!

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

yay. !

It's a great moment when you first have enough posts to have the "Older Posts" link show up.

Thanks for sharing in this joyous occasion.
Goodnight, Jo.
For real this time.

Midnight makeup musings... and such.

I really like this lady's hair.

Sometimes, at night, when I can't sleep, and when I have to be quiet because it's ungodly late and everyone normal is asleep, I use my magical makeup stash and turn myself into strange characters, presumably from a science fiction film.
Or maybe just very strange people with a penchant for silver.
Or maybe just normal runway models.
"Helloo, my name ees Eeevahnkah, I am A Moh-dell."
That kind of thing.

Being a make-up artist is my back up plan in case I somehow can't finish school.

Actually, I have a few back up plans.

1. Make-up artist
slash hair stylist
slash tattoo artist.
2. Tattoo artist.
3. Tattooed fashion stylist and columnist.
4. Speciality cheese shop owner.
5. Professional soft pretzel sampler.
6. Font designer.
7. Turban model.
8. Audrey Hepburn.

Goodnight, Jo.
My thighs are silver.