They lit up and everything!

This actually happened like… a week ago or something and I meant to write about it then, but you know what happens.

I’M LAZY.

So anyway, last week or so while I was at work a woman came in with her son, who must have been around three or four years old. Here is the conversation that I had with the child that made my heart melt for the rest of the day:

Boy: I got Scooby Doo!
Me: Seriously? I love Scooby Doo.
Boy: Me too! He’s on my shoe!
Me: Awesome! Your shoes are really cool.
Boy: Yeah.
Me: I love them. I’m jealous.
Boy: Hi, Jealous!

HOW IS THAT NOT THE CUTEST THING EVER?

Doesn’t matter, because it totally is.

Had to be there.

Thanks to you, Chelsea.

Is it unusual to have a dream where all of the children in it possess Chelsea grins?

I’m pretty sure that “Chelsea grin” isn’t in the dream dictionary.

Does it just mean that my inner child is REALLY happy?

Hm. Somehow, I think not. The funny thing is, the creepily smiling children didn’t really freak me out all that much. I just looked at them like they were totally normal.

I tried looking for “Chelsea grin” in the Google Image Search and only found like one picture of Heath Ledger’s Joker, a bunch of pictures of some band apparently named Chelsea Grin and then one dorkface from Vampirefreaks.com.

So. I’ve officially decided that Google fails for not giving me what I wanted. But then again, Bing.com gave me pictures that I can’t even imagine being related to a Chelsea grin. So. Find your own picture. Or just look up the definition of Chelsea grin, which is pretty much what Ledger’s Joker has. That lovely never-ending smile.

The angry boy, a bit too insane…

So, if anyone could tell me why “Jumper” by Third Eye Blind is such a brilliant song, I would be greatly appreciative.

I think that I’ll listen to it as I go to bed tonight. I’m tired. Tomorrow is another day. Work, and then it is off to Dawson’s house. At least I have something to look forward to.

Heh, that made me smile.

I’d like to make myself believe that planet Earth turns slowly.

Everyone has that one hobby/love/whatever that makes them slightly dorky. I don’t like anime, Star Trek, Star Wars (or anything space-related for that matter). I’m not into World of Warcraft and I don’t dress up as a Hogwarts student every time I go see Harry Potter movies in theaters. Although I absolutely adore Harry Potter and all things related to JK Rowling’s magical world, my love for it does not delve into the superloser level because I’m just too badass for that.

I think the thing that makes me dorky is my love for RPing, writing stories out with others and creating worlds of our own. I’ve always wanted to write but could never really formulate any ideas well enough to complete a project. With roleplaying I’m able to write out a fantastic story with the help of another person. What do I RP, you ask?

Typically twincest and Batman slash.

Yeah. I’m that fucking cool.

Currently I’m in the middle of an epic RP with Dawson that is basically a slash writing between Bruce Wayne and Superman “villain” Lex Luthor, although Dawson’s Lex is based more off of the Lex from Smallville than the one in the DC comics. We’ve also managed to incorporate the Joker, Poison Ivy and Clark Kent thus far; we’re pretty much planning on throwing the whole DC universe into there. Yep. Let the dorkiness wash over you, please.

The thing that is different about RPing versus other forms of dorkiness is that this actually takes skill and talent. Any loser can dress up in robes and wave around a wand, but not everyone can write an engaging and addicting RP. There is always something to look forward to when you’re RPing, and soon your characters (even if they were originally created by someone else, like Batman and Lex Luthor) become a part of you and you fall in love with them. The Bruce Wayne that I have created has both similarities and extreme differences from the original Bruce Wayne. But he’s mine, and despite his very obvious flaws I adore my Caped Crusader.

While I love writing about the DC world, I have to admit that my favorite part is the slash. I can’t help it. Boys fucking makes me happy! Unfortunately, while there is much Batman slash to be read on the Internet, I cannot seem to find much Batman eyeporn. Sorry to sound arrogant, but I find that reading anyone else’s slash other than the one I’m writing with my RP partner is dull. And super cliche. Ahem. I did manage to find one artist who’s quite good at providing me with Batman slash (especially a fantastic picture of Batman and the Joker). So, yeah. Destiny is awesome.

If you ever feel like immersing yourself into a different world of nerd or just want to read some super amazing writing (no, I’m totally serious), feel free to check out my Batman RP here. And yes, I am plugging myself. Why not?

Oh, being creative makes me so happy.

Much like this song that I heard on Live 105 today. I’m not sure why I like it so much, but it makes me feel… peaceful?

When you get the chance, check out “Fireflies” by Owl City. I’d YouTube it for your lazy butt, but embedding has been disabled for that video. Soooooooo, you know.

Go be productive.

Edit August 17, 2009: Thanks to the WordPress little friendship with SoundCloud, I can give you “Fireflies” by Owl City. YOU DIDN’T NEED TO DO ANYTHING!

Lucky bitch.

PS: I love how the gray looks like a condom. Fanboy squeals shall ensue.

I tried to think of something good and this is what happened.

I tend to ignore it most days, and most of the time I manage to do a fairly decent job of avoiding the painful feeling that resides in my chest. I haven’t been happy for a long time, and oftentimes I feel like I hate the person that I am now compared to the person that I was two years ago. The most infuriating part about it all is that I don’t know what to do to make myself feel better. As much as I wish there was, there really isn’t just some switch that I can flip to be happy. There isn’t just some button marked “CONTENT” in the back of my mind that I can push to just make everything go away.

Depression isn’t quite the word for it, since like I said most days I can ignore it. But I find that more and more I’m falling into a state of hopelessness that makes me feel, for lack of a better word, hopeless. Most of the time I just feel lonely, and then even when I am out with other people somehow feelings of inadequacy that used to be foreign to me and are now just an unpleasant visitor plague me and I separate myself from everyone else even more.

I wish that I could write about something happy, but no matter how hard I try to think of something good nothing comes to mind. The boy that I love wants to date other people, which I can’t really be surprised about but that doesn’t make it any less painful. I’m stuck in a stupid retail job that pays me way less than I probably deserve. Due to the severe cuts in California’s university system I probably won’t be able to get into university until fall of 2010, if that. I realize that all of these problems really aren’t that horrible, and I understand that they’re the woes of the spoiled upper middle class. I realize that I could be left without a job, no chance of getting into college at all or be the victim of like, I don’t know, domestic abuse instead of just general abandonment. I get that. But despite all the knowledge I have that doesn’t make my chest hurt any less or make me feel any better about, well, anything.

Although writing this out has made me feel a tad bit better, I still know that when I wake up in the morning to go to a job that I really wish I could quit, I’ll start to feel the fog come over me again. Which is a super lame metaphor, but whatever. I’m a lame person sometimes.

I guess what really causes all this is the feeling that of being unloved in a sense. I know I’m loved by people, blah blah blah, but I miss being the center of someone’s world and returning the feelings. I’m tired of being dumped by people, and I’m starting to really get the feeling that there is something wrong with me. Maybe that’s where the feelings of inadequacy are coming from. Knowing that there’s something wrong with me, and then making myself even worse by thinking about it. I keep myself from doing things nowadays because I’m so insecure with myself. It’s not a feeling that I’m used to, and I wish that it would just go away. I feel weak and petty, and for the first time in a long time I’m actually genuinely worried about how people perceive me, when years ago I just didn’t give a fuck.

Nothing is good enough, I’m not good enough. Or attractive enough or talented enough. I used to be filled with a fun confidence and now I’m just this shadow of my former self. I become a hideous person when I doubt myself, and I find that with each passing day I become uglier and uglier.

I’m so fucking sad.