Two steps east of weird.

It's official.  I can't visit etsy without going into a mild Igottahavethis anxiety attack.  Everything is just so... drool-worthy.  My bookmark library is bursting at the seams with err... bookmarked etsy pages, crafting blogs and flickr profiles.  I spend hours clicking on links, right-click-saving-image-as on pictures of oh so wonderful things and mentally kicking myself in the ass for not paying attention to my high school Home Ec teacher.  Had I listened... sigh.  Hindsight is indeed a pain in the ass.

Some women dream of Mr. Right on one knee, velvet box in hand, sparkling diamond engagement ring inside.  I dream of Mr. It Took You Long Enough on one knee, velvet box in hand, Amigurumi Carnival Clown Cake engagement ring inside.  See the big difference?  Thing is, I would hands down, no doubt be happier than most women because my man gets me enough to splurge $24.50 plus shipping on a ring that I'd cherish more than any diamond ring in the world.

Still the same dream, only slightly skewed.  And tons better.

Some women dream of meticulously interior decorated condos, with modern impressionist paintings hanging on some walls and central air conditioning.  I dream of a studio loft haphazardly decorated with handcrafted plushies and modern flea market finds.  With a room specifically for my collection of Shawnimals (dagnabit that's a legitimate word! stop telling me it isn't!) that will undoubtedly be legion and amazing.

Again, the same dream, only slightly odd.  And loads better.

I'm never going to outgrow this intense love I have for all things small and just two steps east of weird.  And that is just fine with me.

Delirium. Madness. Rage.

Sometimes, don't you just feel like screaming at the top of your lungs?  For no real reason, if only to exhale.  Vent.  Release.

Do you catch yourself feeling as if you're churning with anger, literally seconds away from spewing venom that's been eating away inside of you?  

I know some people who could take their anger and channel it towards something positive.  Something beautiful and calm.  If you look at them closely, you could see them struggle and win over the rage.  Their expressions going from agonized to serene.

I'm different.  I take all that anger, all that negativity and just let it fester.  I don't let go of it.  I don't try and channel it into something positive and calm.  No.  I hold it in and I hold it in and then one day just let the fury unleash.  

And then some poor unsuspecting schmuck would get his heart ripped out because he misspelled my name or spilled a drink somewhere within a 2 mile radius of where I actually am or... I don't know... breathe.

I inherited the fury from my father... it lives inside me.  It didn't die along with him.  In fact, I think he left me all his unreleased rage and now I'm just a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Inspire. Move. Awaken.

I'm stuck in a rut.  Day in and day out, everything is just an identical, slow motion blur of all the other yesterdays. 

I need something that will inspire, motivate and awaken me.  I need my creative juices to start flowing again.  I haven't written anything in a long while and it's not for lack of trying.  I have unfinished stories waiting with baited breaths...begging for their happily ever afters.

It pains me that I can't seem to get motivated enough to climb out of my rut and break free of this overwhelmingly addictive monotony.

I need to write.  I need to sing.  I need to dance.  I need to live.

Now.

Here.. have a Squid.

When all else fails, a little bit of cute goes a long, long way....

I promise to post more soon. 

Sunday Sillies

When all else fails, get your plush babies, your silver Christmas crown and your camera phone and go buck wild loony.

38 is the new 12.