Changes

I'm not sure if you're Aware of the little voice inside your head that triggers when you're dissatisfied. The one that tells you you need to make a change. This voice and I, we go way back. It started before I even hit my teen years. Never an extrovert in clothing or wild hairdos (unless it was directly pointed out to me that I needed to do something "fun" with my hair), instead, I would change book genres or reorganize my room. It wasn't until my later years did I realize this was happening. Ecause I was upset with something I. My life I couldn't outwardly change. I resorted to changing that which I could.

Not only would my room receive a more efficient feel and look, but that change and readjust would sort of sooth the an anixiety over the inability to change what I really wanted to in my life.

Lately, that result has been more obvious, more frequent. It sits atop my head in a shortening, now flaming splendor. It's not a bad change and it does overall suit me. Why, though, the change?

Sadly, it's because of something else I am able to change, but don't out of loyality. Of pride. This is an excellent opportunity I've been granted and I really want to throw it away. To travel, to move, to go to school and finish. Somehow, working 6 exhausting days a week puts a hamper to that. To just about all of that. It's not the time, I know that still. Being here, doing what I'm doing is a great accomplishment as its hitting goals for both boyo and I. I'm learning so much from a mentor at work, about dealing with irrational patrons and... Others.

This isnt what I want to be doing with my life. Not this moment, not another years worth. Yes, boyo, I know I Am my only restriction when it comes down to it, that I have your full support that doesn't make it any easier. You know a lot of my hesitation with being here in San Diego but it's not just San Diego I think you're setting to recognize that. I think I'm starting to recognize that.

Ah well, this went too deep far too quickly so I will leave it at this and add a picture later

=]

Dreaming with nothing changed.

What if you begin to dream the impossible? To imagine the unreachable? Does it hold true that you’re just setting yourself up for certain failure and heartbreak? Is it so adolescent to dream so large, so vividly that you feel you have no other choice? Doesn’t someone have to try?

Have been tinkering around with odd ideas of what to study in college. Silly me not to see what was before me. At least, what it feels is before me now. My next mission is to study photography. Why? There’s not a good steady market and for all I know it’s a waste of college. For all any of us knows. Like an English degree. Right?

I just get these images in my head that need to come out, be expressed. I always wished I could draw so someone could see them, but I can set them up and shoot them, can’t I? Gearing more towards fashion, I’m being drawn like a bee to a flower, like a child to a sweet.
Annie Leibovitz. Stark, creative, dark, beautiful, Insightful, creative, herself.
A successful upheaval today. Tired, numb, sore, burned. There will never be enough sleep today. The body demands it, eyes closing, mind rocking and the general slowness of sleep. And yet it is elusive. The waiting today for life to begin has lulled me enough to settle into this half daze. Something is about to begin. A month from now I’ll be sitting somewhere, waiting still. The time is not right, but it will be. Eventually.

Back to school for photography. There’s a good idea. At the very least, it will carry me long enough to hit that check. Bachelors means nothing to a Master.

The Great American Monstrosity

A quick update on the past few months:
1) Thanksgiving with boyo's parents up in L.A. Had a delicious brined turkey that was juicy and everything a turkey never manages to be.
-Speaking of, did I mention I've begun eating meat again? Yeeah. Unfortunate, I know. On a semi-regular basis, mainly at home and mainly to try different cooking styles and, ah again, Julia- or at the very least french styled cooking. I really want to get back into vegetarianism and most likely will. Let's call it a reprieve.
2) Christmas! At my mom's, my grandparent's, and boyo's parents. It never seems to be that grand of an occasion anymore, though I do try. Decorating, getting a tree, making hot chocolate... yumm! Did receive a pizza stone and it's seeing it's fair share of usage! Oh pizza stone, I did not really know pizza until you came around. Now it will never be the same.
3) Haven't been shooting, haven't been writing. Catching up on books and having odd little adventures like breaking into the trunk of an old BMW with large flathead screwdriver to keep occupied while boyo scouted under the hood for usable parts. Also! Found a later version of my car sitting around with the doors open, so we climbed inside, took the tape player, led clock and I learned the basic workings of my car.
Before you call the cops, please understand our situation! It was perfectly legal all the way around. Being in a junkyard and all. =P We did manage to find an N-600! It looked to be in pretty good shape, too! Save for the roof rear which looked like an elephant sat on it, just enough to bend the rear window frame. *sigh*

Alright, now to the main story:

Yesterday, a great american monstrosity was created. It sat coated in thick red goo on our kitchen counter, protruding the retched stank of many a childhood meals of sweet deliciousness and dreaded moments. How could I do this to us? What have I done?!

It all began the night before. Boyo mentioned he'd like a burger, so off we went to the local deli to fetch the necessary ingredients for such a fine fatty feast. I escaped to the produce to procure onions, tomatoes, garlic, avocados, pineapple slices, and more while boyo finagled the meat. Hungry and beyond time to eat, we raced home and I immediately began to work. Some part of the back of my mind registered that there was no way two measly people could consume all of that giant bowl of now prepared patties. Not humanly possible! However, hell bent on making as many burgers as Boyo could consume, I ignored logic and pressed onward!

After actually cooking 4 patties, I opted out of making sweet potato fries and decided we must eat, now!

The 4 burgers were enough, but what was left, was about 1 lb of prepared meat... What to do the next day? Meatballs? Maybe. Freezer? Ick.

Instead, I did something I pretty much swore off when I signed up to be a vegetarian and leave my family home. Never would I recreate the dishes of my youth! Not that they were terrible, they were just ordinary! Pot roast with rice, beef stew (which I am currently making), corned beef hash, clay pot chicken, meatloaf.

There, I said it!

Meatloaf.

Does anyone ever really miss meatloaf? I didn't. It's not awful to eat, not too bad, actually. Perhaps it's just the thought of ground beef drenched in ketchup that bogs my mind. Not good enough? Put ketchup on it and don't worry about it, it will be fine.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mima's (grandma) growing up. It was a treat! Just one that I've always sought to avoid. Why? To be honest, it's easy. It lacks complexity, depth. It's not 3 hours worth of creating an orgasmic explosion of creamy, rich, decadence that rolls over your tongue and makes your eyes close.

Like this asian chicken recipe I've modified called "Tso Yummy Chicken" =P But that's another story.

Alright, it's not really so bad.

But man, that chicken recipe was a tough act to follow and, meatloaf? Didn't quite cut it.