The heart room sings

I've been writing like a damn fiend lately. When I say lately, I mean in the last 24 hours. I've written four stories, and started a fifth.

Allen and I brainstormed on my favorite story, Dying at the Bottom of a Bottle. It's now called Project Aeternus, because of reasons. We've come up with a brilliant, entirely comprehensive idea for it. We have a lot of stuff to do before this idea can be taken off the ground, but I'm pretty excited to spend the summer doing it.

I've asked Steffie to help. I'm going to write to Gaymie and Peteypie to see if they want in, too. Those wonderful Englishman are probably far too busy for such shenanigans, but I'm going to ask them just the same.

I'm so excited to feel creative and inspired again. I haven't felt this way in a long, long time.

Animal crackers by the fistful! The breakfast of champions

What I'm actually eating is pancakes. Pancakes by the fistful!!

About a month or so ago, Allen sent me this:

Click here because reasons

If life is too short for you to be clicking links, it's a writing prompt with a picture and a title. This one is a mall, and it's titled, "A Stroll Down a Moonbase Promenade", which I actually really, really love.

I read all of the stories that people submitted (including Allen's, which was fantastic) and I thought to myself, "What can I write that will be different from everybody else's?" Because, while there were some good ones (and one or two REALLY good ones), they were all the same. Here's what I wound up writing (and I just finished it):

Brian Gale had certainly seen better days.

He made one more loop around the wreckage, quickly maneuvering his way around a piece of debris that would have gone straight through the ship’s window if he hadn’t been such a quick thinker. But that’s what made Brian Gale great. He was fast acting. A man of action. A smile flashed across his face. A man of action.

Commander Brian Gale stared at the few sections of the building that were still standing. To think that just hours ago, this had been a bustling mall. A mall right next to the moon. And now, it was almost all gone. The DOG had hit it hard, and there was nothing that Command could have done to stop it.

Special Commander Brian Gale looked outside of the window of his spaceship and sighed. He never wanted this post. Honestly, being sent here was a punishment worse than anything he had done. All he wanted to do was speak his peace at the Space Command meeting. It couldn’t be helped that he had something important to say while the High Counselors were talking amongst themselves. It WAS a group meeting, after all, and his opinion on the blandness of the soup being served mattered. Having to report immediately to this destroyed duty station made him angry. He breathed heavily.

Space Master Special Commander Brian Gale slipped on his suit, grabbed a few tools, and moved from his craft to the wreckage with quickness and precision. There wasn’t much that could be salvaged here, he thought to himself dismissively. This was clearly just a way to get Lieutenant Space Master Special Commander Brian Gale out of the picture.

Chief Lieutenant Space Master Special Commander Brian Gale picked up a piece of debris. “I have to spend the remainder of my days at this ruined station,” he thought to himself, “and it looks like the only option I have is to rebuild.”

“BRIAN” his mother shouted up the stairs. Seven year old Brian Gale dropped the LEGO bricks on the floor and craned his ear toward  her voice.

“I made you a grilled cheese. Come back to the table and eat.”

Brian Gale smiled, and left the space station behind.

Not the sausages, you great idiot!

I have always, always, always been a fan of Billy Joel. Along with Elton John, he's one of my longest favorites. I can't remember liking anybody before Joel and John (it's what I'll be calling my amalgam cover band, thank you. We'll perform blends of songs, like "Tell Her About the Way You Look Tonight" and "The One Scene From An Italian Restaurant". We'll be so wildly successful! I don't know who's doing this band with me, but they're in for a treat once they sign up).

I've been listening to a bunch of billy Joel lately.

This is the Joel song of the moment. Do yourself a favor and listen to it. A lot.

So much to do, and only so many hours in a day

I crashed so hard last night. I was the most exhausted girl, and I still feel exhausted. But let's not complain. Let's post pictures! First, the most fun thing:

Rich made this. He was showing me the videos he's made with his girlfriend (he made one that looked like a rom com from their trip up to Breck to see the ice castles, and it was adorable), and he told me that he was going to make one of our trip, and I got so excited. And it's better than I hoped it would be!

So, here are the photos from Saturday's excursion:

 This handsome little guy was in the dank and spooky basement. When Rich yelled up that there was an owl, I didn't believe him. Imagine my surprise and delight! I'm fairly sure he was a great horned owl fledgling. Due to the magic of internets, I have spent the last twenty minutes doing image research into horned owl fledglings. I'm willing to bet money on it now!

 This is one hallway in said dank, spooky basement. It's right next to where my owl friend was (I use the term friend loosely. That owl hated me and everything I stood for. On a molecular level, it felt like). If you could see two feet to the right, you'd see him sitting there, hating me desperately.

 A solitary bush that sits in the middle of the dunes, doing...you know...bush things.

 While I'm not a fan of children at ALL (which is underselling it), this little girl was the epitome of "long hair, don't care", and I had to take a picture of her not giving a single fuck. I dig her attitude...but only from afar.

 My owl is back! I wanted to name him something, except I can't remember what it is I said I wanted to name him. So, I'll call him Rudy from now on. Or Mortimer. Stiles? Perhaps just 'owl' would be best.

 I have no idea what this thing is. I really don't. But I thought it looked neat!

 Hisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. That's a thing he did. Clearly, my company was neither desired nor required.

 It's Lil' Lisa's Slurry! Hooray for everyone!

 This is a seriously close in crop, but this is owl buddy's parental unit.

 Don't even think about petting me, you intrusive white woman. It's a good thing he communicated that to me with his hissing, because petting him was next on my agenda of  "Dumb Things to Do".

 The murder truck, from a different angle. It still looks equally as threatening.

 I didn't have my settings right for this picture. Not even fucking close. As a result, the post on it is blown out and ridiculous looking. However, I do enjoy this angle. Next time (we've decided that next, we'll go for sunset), I'll get it right. Or a better approximation of right.

 The ghost of power plants past. You could almost hear the hum of those things doing whatever it was they did. That's not true at all.

 I don't know how the murder truck manages to look threatening against a stunning blue sky, but uh, well played, truck. Well played.

 Rich wanted to climb the ladder up to the top of the silo. Had we been able to get him to the start of the ladder, he would have.

 We came across an abandoned hut on the side of the road. In front of it? A dead bison, and the skeletons of several others.

 A dune storm! There's one every time I come here. I love it.

 Old thing has been old since 1889. Presumably.

The gang, sans me. Sands me? That's an awful pun.

I really wanted to run today, but I'm tired and it's cold and excuses are so much easier.

Prelude to a post (have I used that title before?)

So, before I post all of the photos from today, I just want to post the fun photos with the gang.

 Beer and sandwiches are perfect after the dunes!!! Not pictured: the gigantic fucking rip in my pants.

 We have so much fun! Jokes and jokes and sandwiches and beers and jokes. Kid stuff!

 The crew, after less than four hours of sleep, waking up at 4, and being on the road for a couple hours, then running around an abandoned warehouse.

WELL! That is certainly my butt.

I'm editing the rest of my photos now. Longer post when I'm done!

Across the sea of space, the stars are other suns

This is just lovely.

I'm practicing my singing chops. I woke up from a distressing dream about an hour and a half ago. I got into my car and drove around, because I couldn't get back to sleep. I parked out at Balanced Rock, sat on the rocks, and watched the sky. I feel much more calm now. That dream really shook me up. I hate nightmares.

I'm using these singing chops tomorrow for something. I can't explain why I'm so nervous about it. I just am.

I just long for a bungalow

Today has been an awful day. Just awful.

I had my third interview for a job I really wanted. I wanted it bad. I was supposed to hear back from them today about it, regardless of if I was getting it or not, and not a peep. No call, no email, no nothing. This is frustrating on several levels. One, obviously, because I really wanted the job, and I thought I'd be really, really good at it. Two, because even a small email saying, "Thanks for your time, we went in another direction" would have sufficed, but instead I got nothing. Allen told me to calm down, because they've told me they're understaffed and swamped, and they could just be behind in making their decision. But they told me in my first interview that they wanted to decide by Tuesday. It's now the end of business on Wednesday. Logic declares that they didn't pick me. I just...I just wish I could have even gotten a TEXT. Something. The silence is the worst part. It always is.

And the aftermath of the silence is so hard. I can't stop asking why I wasn't good enough to get the job, and why they couldn't just tell me instead of implying it with the cold shoulder.

Stevie is mad at me because she and Allen made plans to hang out last night, and I had already decided on going out to GoG to watch the Lyrids. She left before I got back, threw two passive aggressive texts at me, and didn't respond when I asked her to please not speak to me the way she speaks to her ex-boyfriend (which is all manner of derisive and passive-aggressive, and she thinks it's funny) because it's not nice. I don't know why she's pissed. Neither of them made those plans with me, I didn't bail on anybody, I just had other shit going on. I can't deal with her being mad, however. If she's going to be mad, then she's just going to have to get over it. I haven't done anything wrong, and no apologies are necessary on my behalf.

I sat at the park last night for an hour or so. I sat on the swings and watched the shapes change in clouds (because nobody is better at the cloud game than I am. It is known), and then I went out to Garden of the Gods. But it was cloudy. Even with the big breaks in the clouds, and the Lyrids being super duper bright, I didn't see a single one.

I'm so frustrated. Frustrated and sad. I didn't just want this job, I needed it. I needed it because I need to make a difference and do SOMETHING. Anything. I make no impact. I don't affect any change, or do anything important, and I want to. I want to mean something. And I don't right now. I'm so excited to go to sleep. I'm glad class was cancelled today. 0

The best part of waking up

I love this song right ow. I heard it in Starbucks this morning, and I've listened to it a few times since I got home.

I finished my accounting project. Fucking hooray! It's like, 30% of my grade! And I feel pretty fucking good about it, too. This pleases me.

Walsenberg Power Plant and the Dunes are on the docket for this Saturday, but with even MORE people this time. So, there's that. I don't think I'll take pictures at the dunes this go 'round. Just different pictures at the power plant. Perhaps I'll even be bold and enter the deep deep basement. Because I guess I have a death wish.

I have to clean my stupid apartment. I'm going to watch The Prophecy Three, because I have a love of really, really shitty movies. Tonight, it's Accounting lecture and exercises, then the gym, then I'm coming home to go on my first run in months. I'm already nervous. I got sucked in up to my knees in river quicksand yesterday, and as a result, I have a three inch long, two inch wide gnarly ass bruise with additional cuts and abrasions. I'M FUCKING GORGEOUS. And not clumsy at all.

I am definitely a summer child. I love to walk barefooted through rivers and creeks and laze around in the warm sun, and play outside....even still, at thirty, these are some of my favorite things to do. However, there are times, like yesterday, when it doesn't serve me well:

And the beautiful result:

Don't mind the angle on that first picture. I'm not that huge.

Through the ordinary world

.....

I'm going through some weird shit right now.

Trying to catch the deluge in a paper cup

So, while I edited the photos to today's excursion, I listened to Duran Duran's Ordinary World and Come Undone, and while I post them here, I'm listening to Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House. Up next: Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence.

And away we go!

These are not in order of where we stopped today.

Derek and Nick climbed all the way up to the top of the Dunes to take their photos. I, however, didn't want to take the same pictures they did. So I wandered around elsewhere instead. And there Nick goes, trudging his way up those unbelievably difficult to walk dunes.

 Don't worry, dollface. I've opened the door for you. Ladies first into the murder truck!

And after the murder truck, I'll drag your corpse here, into my freshly methed out basement. You're going to love it here.

 Murder truck jokes aside, this is my favorite picture of the day. I love it so much.

 This field had a sign in front of it that said, "Scenic Point of Interest". Fucking TOTALLY. Who doesn't love a good field? Though I'm pretty sure there were antelope, not deer, all about the thing.

 I asked Derek to stop and pull over so I could take pictures of those turbines, which didn't really work out. While I was trying to get SOMETHING, Nick thought it would be fun to get his picture taken in the middle of the road, posed laying down while reading a magazine and drinking his energy drink as Derek took  his picture. I kept hearing "CAR!" every few minutes.

 I despise this photo, but it was the best of the fifteen picture bunch, and it was the closest to the angle I actually wanted. So I'm posting it, because of reasons. The...uh...one I just cited.

 I had to haul ass across the dunes to get to a good enough vantage point for this picture. My quads burn, and two hours hiking these bad boys is going to hurt like hell tomorrow, but it was so worth it.

 Your sign SAYS No Trespassing, you creepy, abandoned factory of some sort, but I know you want me.

 Eh. Just for texture clues. This building was wonderfully run down.

 Power lines! This was taken from the window, as the car rolled down the highway at a breezy 85 miles an hour. I'm pretty pleased with it, considering those variables.

 That's a rainbow in the corner, in case you had no idea what it was.

How woefully underexposed. :(

I'm fucking exhausted. It's 2:15, and I did so much walking and hiking and when I came home and took my clothes off, sand just poured out of everywhere. I'm going to turn on The Prophecy and crash the fuck out.

If you're lonely, why would you say you're not lonely?

But I really don't want to keep doing homework. :(

Isn't the semester over yet?

I'm sitting on my couch wearing my flounciest dress, because sometimes, I like to feel pretty. Well, I like to feel pretty ALL the time, but it just doesn't work out that way for the most part.

I'm reading about Mars, and I feel exceptionally bored.

I'm still working on this whole "acting like a grown up" thing. Some things are harder than others. For instance, I've been working on using actual quality (read: more expensive than drug store stuff) make-up. It's been a slow replacement process, and the last thing I bought was a tube of 25 dollar mascara (which, honestly, was the best make-up purchase of my life thus far. This shit is INCREDIBLE, and my eyes look like god damn miracles. This is legitimately the kind of difference that mascara makes. My eyelashes are already pretty long, and fairly nice, so with They're Real, they really do look fake. And I love it). I still have to replace my primer, foundation, concealer, and powder, but that's going to take ages. I'm working on it. I started budgeting at the beginning of the year, which, apart from one huge thing, has gone fucking swimmingly. I've begun to try...for the most part...to act my age, as well. Which includes not being so outrageous. I wouldn't say I've stopped being myself altogether, just that I've learned here it's appropriate to not exercise restraint, and where I should actually act like a classy, classy lady. I'm getting better. I don't know what snapped me into this. Well, that's not true. I do know. But it doesn't matter.

Ugh. Ok. Back to this ridiculous fucking grind.

If you're crazy, I don't care; you amaze me

I'm going through one of my semi-monthly kicks where I just can't stop listening to The Fratellis. I ALWAYS forget about this song, but it's fairly lovely and sweet:

I stayed out until 2:40 this morning for the eclipse. I would have stayed out to watch the moon un-eclipse itself, but I was SO fucking cold and exhausted. I'm about to go through the photos. I didn't really take many of the moon. I got frustrated because I couldn't figure out why the lights were being so fucking bizarre. So I took pictures of other things.

I'm so nervous about today. Hopefully it goes well. In the meantime, I'm going to edit my photos.

Tell me something I don't know

I'm listening to this on repeat this morning, because I fucking love this song, and while it's heavily domestic abuse-y, I don't mind. It puts me in a good mood.

I had a pretty good weekend. Allen, Derek, and I went out for dinner, then Allen and I went home and watched Dark Skies (because it's horror movie time in our house!), and I fell asleep. Allen and I woke up early Sunday morning and went to see Captain America, which I actually really enjoyed. The rest of the day was super lazy.

To backtrack, I had my faded hair touched up by Melissa on Saturday. Here's how it went:

SOMEONE RIPPED OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. I've been scalped!

I am so totally cool as fuck. Snap, mother fuckers.

I am so terrible at selfies. Pictures in general, really. But there we go. My hair is set until I go to Alabama (one month and a few days! Yay!).

If the song up there isn't your speed, try this on for size:

Hands down, one of my favorites of theirs. Right alongside Cecilia and Bridge Over Troubled Waters.

I have to go back to studying now. Booooooo.

Edit:

I forgot to post this.

It's so hard to pick a favorite. I love all of these so much.

You can lead a horse to fresh water, but you can't teach it how to be ok when you decide to leave

There won't really be anything of substance in here.

It's 9, I've been up for an hour and a half. It's quiet in my house, I'm drinking my coffee with the window open, the sun is shining and the cool breeze is delightful. I'm reading my Psychology Today and enjoying this morning to myself immensely. Spending the morning this way is not without a huge pang of sadness in the back of my silly little heart, because I miss waking up, going into the kitchen to make myself golden chai tea, and then curling up on the couch to read whatever book I was immersed in while Dan still slept, but so it goes.

45 days until I see some of the people I miss most in the world, and three more months until I see my daddy (the person I DO miss most in the world, for those of you playing the home game).

Even with the sadness, it's still a fucking gorgeous way to spend my morning.

Swing your little ax, or be an oak tree, if you can.

I didn't have class today, so I stayed home and made spreadsheets instead. I've spent the last SIX HOURS on these two spreadsheets. Those six hours have included extensive research. I'm tired of it all now, so I'm taking a break.

Allen and I are looking at gifs on Reddit, because we live productive lives, and he found this one:

It makes me so sad and nostalgic.

Allen has moved on to the gnarly parts of Reddit. I'm keeping my eyes mostly closed, only peeking when he tells me it's safe.

I'm going to try and run in an hour. I won't be able to try tomorrow, I have too much stuff to do, plus it's supposed to snow. I have a month and a half to whittle myself down more before I go to Alabama, and then another three months before Florida, where I'll be a beach bum for an entire week. I really have missed running, which is still so weird to admit.

I have nothing very interesting to say, really.