Jessica would like someone to make her an eljay layout because she's too lazy/busy/tired.
Facebook has corrupted me with the third person narrative. Sometimes I seriously do think in the third person as if my life were all about updating my Facebook status. It's ridiculous, yet somehow comforting to be addicted to something again (eljay faded).
I noticed that I don't have many friends updates recently. Everyone moved, but not me. I've had enough of moving. I've tried having three other accounts since I joined eljay and it didn't work out for me. I liked Pitas and I still sort of like eljay. Not too happy with the layout system (or that without a paid account my icon options are slim, and that I lost all the pictures in my ScrapBook) but with enough CSS knowledge it can all be bypassed. I like how it updates my Facebook (!!!).
I've thoroughly destroyed my feet with new sandals and sandals that I have not worn since the last warm season. Mostly this has happened because as a result of sleep deprivation I've struggled to create outfits in the morning and this has caused me to almost completely fail at finding matching footwear. However, this handicap has not stopped me from trying; hence the wounds. I don't know what I expect from my style anymore. When I'm alone, I can walk out the door and be a different person; like layer yellow tank tops, match it with a mustard hued long and flow-y wrinkly skirt, golden sandals, a long beady necklace, and a matching yellow-tone Kipling hobo bag--and it's like who cares if I'm not at the beach if the sun's scorching hot anyway (Did I mention that I'm working on a tan? First time in three years.). But if I'm on my way to campus then I feel stifled, and since I always go to work before I go to campus I feel I should be more professional. So in the end my style varies between normal, trendy, and mature. Then there are those rare days when I wear my high-top "Ironman" (XD!) Reeboks and end up matching my shoes, to the astonishment of some, and I look/feel like a teeny-popper but on somedays I think that's okay because how boring would life be without this roller coaster of emotions?
...And yes, it is control for me. If I can change my entire style and give the impression of someone else, as if it were part that's hiding inside me, then that offers control of how I feel and how I can feel when others react to me. I find this preferable to being caught in the web of fluctuating feelings that follow the invisible biorhythms of nature. And it reminds me that I, too, can be active and not merely react to the situations at hand.
Control, by the way, is a major issue for me 'cause I'm a walking contradiction. I need order and routine so that I can mindlessly walk through my days and not have to worry about falling into a pothole or walking into a pole. When I lack routine and control over my environment/immediate future everything just falls apart, like a bouquet without a fastener, and putting it back together is so much harder than keeping it together. It's kind of like how when you build anything out of sand you need it to be wet, but if you neglect to moisten some part of it enough, the foundation of your creation is unsteady and the whole thing falls apart. Have you ever tried building a sandcastle out of dry sand? I did as a kid. And I remember that I could shove it in a bucket and chant the magic lyrics as many times I could, and still it would always fall apart. The problem is that at the same time I don't like being controlled, even by myself. I don't like rules, not even my own. I don't like schedules, havetos, shoulds, and musts. So ultimately I end up rebelling against myself and the order I know myself to need. I revel in the chaos that assumes, and it feels great until consequences loom over me like a black cloud ready to strike a witch on fire. Then I burn, and how scorched I get depends on how calmly I can whip up magic amidst the flames, and the screams, and the pain of disappointment. And finally when my skin's raw from healing, and the sand's wiped clean by the ocean of flames---I take up my shovel and my bucket, and I start building order once again.
I noticed that I don't have many friends updates recently. Everyone moved, but not me. I've had enough of moving. I've tried having three other accounts since I joined eljay and it didn't work out for me. I liked Pitas and I still sort of like eljay. Not too happy with the layout system (or that without a paid account my icon options are slim, and that I lost all the pictures in my ScrapBook) but with enough CSS knowledge it can all be bypassed. I like how it updates my Facebook (!!!).
I've thoroughly destroyed my feet with new sandals and sandals that I have not worn since the last warm season. Mostly this has happened because as a result of sleep deprivation I've struggled to create outfits in the morning and this has caused me to almost completely fail at finding matching footwear. However, this handicap has not stopped me from trying; hence the wounds. I don't know what I expect from my style anymore. When I'm alone, I can walk out the door and be a different person; like layer yellow tank tops, match it with a mustard hued long and flow-y wrinkly skirt, golden sandals, a long beady necklace, and a matching yellow-tone Kipling hobo bag--and it's like who cares if I'm not at the beach if the sun's scorching hot anyway (Did I mention that I'm working on a tan? First time in three years.). But if I'm on my way to campus then I feel stifled, and since I always go to work before I go to campus I feel I should be more professional. So in the end my style varies between normal, trendy, and mature. Then there are those rare days when I wear my high-top "Ironman" (XD!) Reeboks and end up matching my shoes, to the astonishment of some, and I look/feel like a teeny-popper but on somedays I think that's okay because how boring would life be without this roller coaster of emotions?
...And yes, it is control for me. If I can change my entire style and give the impression of someone else, as if it were part that's hiding inside me, then that offers control of how I feel and how I can feel when others react to me. I find this preferable to being caught in the web of fluctuating feelings that follow the invisible biorhythms of nature. And it reminds me that I, too, can be active and not merely react to the situations at hand.
Control, by the way, is a major issue for me 'cause I'm a walking contradiction. I need order and routine so that I can mindlessly walk through my days and not have to worry about falling into a pothole or walking into a pole. When I lack routine and control over my environment/immediate future everything just falls apart, like a bouquet without a fastener, and putting it back together is so much harder than keeping it together. It's kind of like how when you build anything out of sand you need it to be wet, but if you neglect to moisten some part of it enough, the foundation of your creation is unsteady and the whole thing falls apart. Have you ever tried building a sandcastle out of dry sand? I did as a kid. And I remember that I could shove it in a bucket and chant the magic lyrics as many times I could, and still it would always fall apart. The problem is that at the same time I don't like being controlled, even by myself. I don't like rules, not even my own. I don't like schedules, havetos, shoulds, and musts. So ultimately I end up rebelling against myself and the order I know myself to need. I revel in the chaos that assumes, and it feels great until consequences loom over me like a black cloud ready to strike a witch on fire. Then I burn, and how scorched I get depends on how calmly I can whip up magic amidst the flames, and the screams, and the pain of disappointment. And finally when my skin's raw from healing, and the sand's wiped clean by the ocean of flames---I take up my shovel and my bucket, and I start building order once again.