Christmas Music desde Amanda

It's been a while...
Wow... my life is one messed up musical. I was a bit suprised this year at the lack of the usual Christmas music extravaganza. It wasn't as invasive as usual. It's like it evolved from the 8 year old demon child that is constantly nagging to the 16 year old emo-kid that locks itself in it's room or something. I have decided that I secretly love Christmas music. (Because I also love lists, I obviously have to make a list of the top 10 Christmas tunes of all time!)

10. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas ('Meet Me in St. Louis' is a great movie!)
9. Happy Xmas(The War is Over)
8. Hark the Herald Angels Sing
7. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
6. Christmas Canon Rock, Trans-Siberian Orchestra
5. Silent Night
4. O Holy Night
3. Angels from the Realms of Glory (Love, love, love this song!)
2. O Come, O Come Emmanuel
1. Carol of the Bells! The best acid trip song ever!

If you are completely without direction in the Christmas song world, follow this simple code. Trans-Siberian Orchestra= Yes!, Manheim Steamroller = not so much.

Teary Eyes and Starry Skies

The view from my bathroom sink boasts a tree that is momentarily stuck between it's prime, beginning, and end. It's the sort that flashes spring just before the winter takes it's leaves.




Alexis and I were watching transformers for the first time this afternoon (great movie by the way) and her eyes teared up at the thought of the 'yellow transformer' dying. She found some flowers that she halved; some for me and some for the yellow transformer. I really love children... there's no more denial in that department (though I can't bring myself to have any of my own.) Have no fear, though! My brother is procreating enough for us all. His sixth wee lass is being born at this very moment whilst I laze about in my warm bed. I'm an old hat at laboring women and runny noses by now.

My hands smell like Scarlet Sangria... a perfect scent to decide whether or not I'm to seduce you. It could be fun, but you could also get clingy. We wouldn't want that. Thought for the midnight hour: Crushes are too pesky. I've decided.

Pivotal Final Note:
If you've never seen a starry sky from a country road/pasture in Texas you are not ready to die just yet. The sky grabbed me by the shirt and wrestled me from my car tonight.. and I loved every minute of it.

F**king Chipotle Sauce, F**king Audrey Hepburn, and F**king Idiots

The fucking chipotle sauce:
Missing all day because of the fucking idiot mentioned.
Fucking Audrey Hepburn:
The source of many a man's starched sock.. one in particular who happens to be a...
Fucking idiot:
Obviously couldn't muster up enough brain cells to realize he needed fucking chipotle sauce. Among hundreds of other things.. grr.

I decide to read some old blogs and stuff to get some perspective. They're pretty much all doomsday tales, and it's fairly depressing. Here's a few excerpts I decided to hold on to.

"People are constantly being driven by the need to accomplish the goals that are set for them, consciously or not. Most of the time we don't even fully realize what we're striving for or why."
That sucks. It's like paying some one's rent that you don't even like.

"We can rationalize away our misdeeds if we try hard enough, and the people who are good at it are the ones we look up to the most. We cheat to cover up our cheating and lie to cover up our lying. We harden ourselves against the slow rotting of our minds and bodies because it feels better than the sting we feel when the truth is slammed in our faces."
That sucks too. Freaking Joel Olsten needs to get a life, that's what I think!



"Why do we hide from greatness, anyways? We are literally dying in every moment, yet we choose to hide behind the mundane, shunning a purpose that would do radical things in our world. Everyday we step one step closer to death wearing shoes of mediocrity, buffed day after day with the finest kind of American pride."
Maybe I was trying to wake myself up. Two years later and I'm in the same spot, only worse. What a great concept for a country song.. wait.. I think they already did that one.

Take a little trip...

I took a trip to the craft store and pet store today. I now have an intense urge to decoupage everything, buy a million fish, and cuddle up with a cute puppy (while making mosaic-everything). I'm apparently entirely impressionable.

I have decided:
A) I'm going to write everyday. Late-night doesn't count for the next day, either.
B) I just may decoupage everything.
C) I'm turning the useless storage building into a studio-extraordinaire. Don't try to stop me. I have decided.
D) ... I don't really have a D, but I'm sure it would've been pretty improving.


Is anyone else kind of freaked out about Tony Blair being 'special envoy to parties seeking peace'? This guy is a whole envoy in himself. Dynamic. My ingrained southern upbringing goes too far at times, really. Anytime someone steps in to 'seek peace' for the holy land or whatever, alarms go off it my head. Grr.

Thought for the last 14 minutes of the day: What fails in real life is great in anime!

Pieces of Narration

The acorns keeping falling outside. Every time I think of small kamikazes, happy to throw themselves down to my window. I know it's not you sneaking through the window, and I'm a bit sad about it. Kamikazes are cool, though.

Thanksgiving always gives me an uneasy feeling in my stomach... coupled with nagging loneliness. No me gusta. I also don't like that I'm still here... prone to your visits. I never wanted to see you again, but I suppose it is my fault. I was supposed to be in China by now... really just anywhere but here. I'm reminded of the source you always cited when you spit in my face... 'We're steel sharpening steel, babe, and it feels good...' You always were good at sharpening my emotions, but to no avail. I'll still be running away tomorrow, sounding every bit like a wounded emo kid.

I adjust the rear view mirror but I won't need it, anyways. I'm not looking back.
The gas tank is on empty but I cast that from my mind. I let my conscience know that this isn't running away. My mind is condensed into one thought, one mantra that's repeated like a lifeline. I'm not going fast enough, not nearly fast enough.

What are you waiting for? The world is looking at you, babe, and it's laughing. Enough is not enough in this case.

I quickly shift into fifth, ready to go. I fight the urge to mourn the day you looked at me with tears in your eyes, disappointed. Your words reverberate in my head, you're telling me the state of things are sad enough, not nearly good enough.



To be continued.... when my thoughts are less boggled.

Nashville or Bust

You are being forewarned: I feel inspired not at all. The only reason I am making record of this is because I feel it's my duty. You will more than likely be disgusted with my terrible writing. Here it is. I'm sitting in front of you, looking you straight in the eye and I'm telling you... This is who I am for now.

So... we went to Nashville last weekend, mainly to see The Elms play. (we=Steph and I)

It's about a twelve hour drive from Grand Saline... we left a 4:30ish. My car is a standard, so the night before we leave I give Steph a little 'lesson'... smart planning ahead, I know. I didn't really want her to drive a lot because I just replaced my clutch ($550!) and I don't want to do it again. Also, she claims that the last time she tried to learn she got stuck in a ditch and couldn't get out. (??) Right. So we leave.

Driving to Nashville..... driving..... driving.. Hey! Texarkana! Let's stop, see some of the old digs, eat, shop a bit... See Caleb! Nice. (For those of you who don't know: Caleb is.. was.. something Steph and I shared. Unintentionally. Contrary to popular belief sex appeal does get you in trouble, friends.) We aren't overly superstitious, but that should've been a sign.

Turn Around Now!

After much emotional soul-heaving, we're on our way again. I'm going eighty... eight... in a seventy and *drum roll please* a cop pulls me over. (No one knows about this so let's keep it on the DL.) This guy could be breaking up gang fights, eating donuts, or even equipping his car with a tire jack (we'll come back to this, trust me).... instead he writes me a ticket. Jackass.

We get to Nashville at aboutt 6:30 am and it's pretty cool for about 25 minutes... but we can't find any hotels. We thought it would be cool to scope things out when we got there... you know spontaneity and all that jazz. It wasn't! We didn't take into account that both of us had been up 24 hours and even worked before we left. We drove around ALL the wrong parts of Nashville for 2 hours looking for a hotel.

Find a hotel... check out the view,

and crash.

4:00 pm. Wake up, call my dad, he promises to wire money. (Not necessary, but hey, free money? Yeah.) Stephanie takes an eternally long shower, we order in, get ready for the show that's at a venue called the Rutledge, by the way. (It made me think of you Kev, then made me miss you terribly...)

Through the door, ten bucks, calculating eyes....
they kick us out! Something about being armed communists, our noses being too large... smelling suspiciously of egg rolls and conspiracies... or something. Anyways, we're kicked out. We are so disheartened by this, we feel we can't carry on. Our futures are no more. We sit on the curb and try not to cry. Thomas from the band walks by (unbeknownst to me.. I don't know the guy, right?) Steph is like Hey! You're cool! I'm the idiot that doesn't know who he is. He feels kind of bad that we can't see the show, kind of likes commis and all that. Promises us some merch afterwards though, so we decide to go to a mexican resturaunt next door. Pretty cool, nice waitress. We go outside and sit on this rock pile... thing.. and we can hear the band really well when someone opens the door to come outside and smoke. A RAT chases us... squeaks viciously.. scary.

Okay... short version:

we get a flat tire because we're distracted by this hot guy getting arrested. Two huge holes out of the sidewall, can't patch it. It's Sunday, no one who has my size tire is open... blah blah blah... It sucked. Love Nashville, The End.

A Documentary: me not cleaning my room

I should be cleaning my room, but instead I decide to formulate reasons why I'm lying on the floor documenting it instead. I'm a junkie.. I'm autistic.... I have an obsession with photographing dirty rooms.. I'm emo..

Blah.. Who's going to Nashville with us?

I didn't quit my job. Quite the opposite actually. I took a promotion that's been stashed in the recesses of the 'things I would rather die than do' part of my brain. If it's not one, it's the other.
It does help that people (my bosses more importantly) feel that I'm capable of doing the job. Today Dave told me that he really liked working my shifts because everything runs smoothly and gets done quickly. Isn't that great? It made me happy...

I've pretty much been focusing on my photography (and finances.. ughh being a poor, independent student is so overrated). Things like brainstorming and showing more effort in my prints. (I'm such a slacker.) Also, I decided that it's time for me to move out. It finally feels 'right'. God I'm boring.

So, who wants to go to Nashville with us? The Elms are playing a show at The Rutledge.. the only one outside of Indiana for a while.

Dairy Palace is amazing

Dairy Palace, when visited properly, is a rejuvenating balm to the worst of situations. About an hour ago after Steph and I got off work we both sort of migrated to DP for some food, and (as always) found some interesting things to make fun of/discuss through hilariously original dialogue. Example number one:

An old man walks in for some coffee. Approaches Steph, AJ (works there), and me and does the usual chat thing prominent in East Texas.

old man: Do ya'll want to smoke some marijuana with me?
All we can do is try not to die of laughter because we don't hear that very often from 75-80 year olds. We don't really say no... we don't really say anything.
old man: It's the good stuff from Guatemala... well Mexico really, but they get it from Guatemala because it's cheaper there.
More laughter from us.
old man: Well give me an ashtray and I'm going to get high. *gestures to his cane* Do ya'll want to ride my stick horse? I don't think ya'll are ready for me. I just don't think ya'll are ready.

We also found out that this guy we call Jesus got fired at Walmart because he wore skirts like.... every other day in protest to the new khaki uniform thing. Hilarious. *Okay, Chris, this is your second warning about the skirts.... It's grossing the customers out, dude.*

Small things that just mean I'm thinking...

ughhh... I'm so tired! I haven't worked 14 hrs straight in a long time... since we had 3-4 people to a shift. Overtime, baby. I just wish my body wasn't so sore.

Y'know, I was thinking about my life and the way I view everything and it seems like it's separated into two separate time periods. Before, I was living behind a veil, and then it was slowly removed and now... I see everything differently.
For instance, the old Amanda:

• Found small, insignificant things nerve-wracking and became embarrassed at the smallest hint of attention. (I'm not an attention-monger now, I just don't fear it)
• Never thought about astrological signs or how they affected people and when, etc.
• Hated to do things alone (ex: eat out, approach strangers, entertain herself)

Don't fret! I'm still me, I'm just much more laid back in that I don't worry about things that can't be changed, y'know? I screw up, do irresponsible things, and I move forward. (A little Relient K really helps, too.)

Hey, here's a super-cool bullet list to prove I'm Amanda. I still:

• procrastinate like crazy (ughh)
• slack off on schoolwork (I have schoolwork?? weird...)
• find it physically and emotionally impossible to wake early (darn)
• love, love, love the sky
• have abnormal amounts of patience where others don't ( children and 'slow people')
• have abnormal shortages of patience with self-inflicted stupidity
• cannot abide familial abuse in any way... at all. I'll cut you, yo.

I know, useful blog. Oh, by the way, my new clutch and me are NOT friends. I hate it.

Torrential Outpour Blues...

One of the things I love about Texas is how, out of the blue, it starts raining like crazy in the middle of the day. It will rain so hard you can't see three feet in front of you, then stops two minutes later. This happened on the way home from picking up my check today, and it was beautiful. Sure I couldn't see anything, but it was still lovely. It's like your car is driving on a lake (more like a river I guess), and instead of seeing the road all you see is water... and you're floating. Until your car is like 'Woah... I'm not Jesus!' and hydroplanes, of course.
It's those moments that microscopic bits of beauty are blown up and you see it all clearly.

My car makes me cry... alot

So... here's a rundown of my awesome day.
slept til....12:00 pm- I'm terribly sick, think I'm dying... take a two hour bath... didn't die
2:00 pm- get out of bath tub because Turkey has taken over my bath with squirting toys and bubble bath barges.
7:00 pm- go to work on my day off because KYLE won't quit breaking bones.. really.. stop. Anyways.. get conned into closing because.... I'm easy.
4:00 am- finally finish closing... start driving home only to find that.. oh!.. my car is a terrorist and against all things that are good and right... like making it home. At this point, my options are limited.
4:30 am- still weighing my options since I lost my phone two weeks ago. I've got time, right?
I could:
a) walk 10 miles home
b) get shot for knocking on some one's door in the middle of the night, or
c) wait for someone to stop. They didn't. Whoever said Texans were friendly and crap was lying to you! I won't rape you for godsakes just give me a ride or something!
Anyways... I finally get home, only to find that I was locked out. Thanks. Good thing I leave my window open, yo.

Gimme Some Truth

It became gloriously clear to me today. I feel like I've been waiting... waiting to start my life.. waiting to live and be. Be.. happy.. content.. free. I know.. cliche... but not really. Not really at all. When I walked out of that stifling building into the sunlight it was perfect. For the first time, I'm going to live and you can't stop me. Just gimme some truth!


P.S. (For all of you who don't know what I'm referring to... I had great closure today at one of our 'mandatory meetings' for TB. I'm quitting that stupid job with it's stupid people, and I feel great. Life is too short to be waiting to live, waiting to do everything you want to do. Money doesn't really matter.. I just want to be happy, yo. A little to idealistic, I know, but I'll figure it out.)

Urges that Collide at the Height of Inspiration

The last few days I've felt an insatiable urge to go to Levita. Take last night for instance. I was on 110 with my windows down and the music up, and I felt like I was there. Everything felt simple like it does when I'm with my family. It's that feeling of traveling backwards in time to the place where everything belonged together (whether I liked it or not) and I wasn't constantly looking for love. I hate feeling like I'm looking for love in the next lane over or at the grocery store, just beyond that bunch of ketchup bottles. There aren't any men in or around Levita *at all*, so I feel free to be content and open in a way that doesn't happen anywhere else. The creek's smooth, mossy bottom transforms my childhood dream from living in a tree-mansion to dreaming of a house on the creek. In that creek... as near to beauty as possible.

Sliding through currents on mossy rock is pretty fun, too.

Great Shots

I got some great shots today. I took a drive down my favorite country road.. the one that leads to Clark's Ferry. In the daylight it's transformed from an eery backroad full of ghosts into warmth and light. It didn't mind when I rolled down my windows to be closer to its trees. It didn't even protest my loud music that didn't stop when I photographed it's comfortable beauty. My favorite part of the journey comes about five miles down when the road is too narrow to go anywhere but forward, and the trees arch around me in a close, shaded hug. It seems like I could be anywhere, anytime and all I have to do to get there was think it. If only every road were as magical as this one.

Clark's Ferry is being sold. The For Sale sign lists the reason '...too much trouble'. Hey, good marketing skills. The drive just before it boasts a sign that states 'Private Property. Poisonous Gas' just above the cattle guard. I wonder; how do the cows feel about this?

I'll post some pictures after I develop them tomorrow.. if I don't botch the developing. If I can find a cord that fits my scanner.

The Current State of Things

Summertime in East Texas is irresistably beautiful, no matter how miserably humid it is. With the beautiful wildflowers and green, green grass it's impossible not to fall in love with the place I call home. For some species, though, summer marks a time of struggling and death. Turtles, for one, and armadillos are continuously seen lying dead on various country roads. I don't know why this bothers me so much. Maybe it's because I have a SOUL and don't intentionally murder innocent animals on my way to work! All they want to do is cross the road, and you have to go and make trouble, you redneck idiot. Those people (you know who you are, massive dodge pickup with inferiority issues, not the need to haul big things) who swerve OUT OF THEIR WAY to run over a young turtle are cruel, heartless pricks, and most likely continue their blood shed by chopping down trees in random pastures for funsies. Not cool at all...
*Now for a random subject change that will most likely leave you scratching your head in confusion*
Probably the only real motto we have at Taco Bell is, 'If you're going to throw up, be a team player and do it on the line so we can all go home.' I love the great sense of teamwork we have... and of course this all relates to the habitual summertime slaughter of innocent animals!
So I should be writing, you know, starting my 'life's work' or some such nonsense. I should be doing work that means something, anything, because I only have a few years before my stale life is laid out for me. What am I going to do?? Work, go to school, and stumble through it the best I can, but I want more. More, more, more, more like a mantra.