Friday.

Sometimes when I drive, I have something in my passenger seat like a card or a book, or something else trivial that I certainly don’t need while I’m paying attention to the road, and I’ll make a turn, and said item will go flying off the seat and I react as if it’s fallen into some abyss never to be seen again. Usually grumbling some profanity at the same time. I did this the other day and realized what an overreaction it was. Like, it’ll be there when I park the car.

I’m finding tattoo ideas quicker than I can save money to get them.

Going with the car theme, sneezing in the car is one of the most terrifying things ever. I mean, I know that your eyes only close for half a second, but a lot can happen in a half a second! And there’s NO control over it.

I was surprised to hear that someone is inspired by me. It is flattering, and it’s an honor, but I immediately wonder why. I just imagine all the things that make me so so awkward. I trip over myself constantly, I suffer from crippling self-doubt and insecurity, sometimes I stutter on the phone when I’m trying to run a call and I have a knack for letting things go bad in the fridge. I take an excessive amount of pictures of my cats and I listen to the same music and watch the same shows/movies over and over. I spend an inappropriate amount of time in Walgreen’s trying to decide on new body wash and have almost no impulse control when it comes to Amazon online shopping. I’m just saying. I’m grateful that we as people see things in others that they don’t often see.

When someone says, you really look like you need to have that cup of coffee, is that a veiled way of saying good lord you look tired? I think it might be. That’s ok, it’s probably true. Also, I do need this cup of coffee.

Doing laundry yesterday, I was so proud of myself for getting everything in one load that I didn’t think about whether or not I should’ve. Folding it will be a nightmare. Notice I said will be, because I certainly didn’t do it yesterday.

Sometimes when I hear people sigh, I wonder if it’s a sigh because they’re frustrated, or angry, or remembering something fondly, or if they just really needed to take a big deep breath. I sometimes take deep breaths because it feels good to breathe in as deeply as I can and exhale audibly. I can’t help it. It feels nice. You should try it.

Isn’t it amazing how a person can be in the periphery of your life, and then all of a sudden, they radiate so brightly that you can’t help but notice who they are and what they do and how they make you feel? Friend, coworker, significant other, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes a person just illuminates my life, and I’m tuned in enough these days to notice when they shine. I think that’s wonderful.

I am getting closer to perfecting the pan-cooked steak. I know.

I’m bad at titles

I finally went to a doctor – turns out I have a deep maxillary infection. Whatever that is. The medicine is working, I feel like a person again. That’s awesome.

How is it I get so attached to fictional characters? Books, TV, movies, doesn’t matter.

It is amazing to me that I can be bored and restless and also lazy at the same time. What is that about?

The thought of using nasal spray reminds me of being a child in my grandparents car, driving to some family dinner or something, being persuaded (read: being told) that it was the only way to feel better. I’m sure it will work, but I’m hesitant. Amazing how memories stay with a person.

I wonder what it feels like to be a guy who can grow an amazing set of mutton chops or a huge beard. Is it the same as growing long luscious locks as a woman? I don’t think its the same. I have no clue. I imagine there’s a sense of accomplishment and pride there.

My mom just told me she was going on a helicopter ride in Hawaii. A HELICOPTER ride! She’s so brave! I want to be brave like that – and the idea sounds awesome but I dunno if I’d have the guts to go through with it.

Phil Coulson is just awesome. Seriously watch Agents of SHIELD if you like Marvel comics at all. It’s super cheesy. But it’s super awesome. (Fitz is one of those characters I’m irrationally attached to. Agent Hand is one that just drives me crazy.)

My Ireland trip is 62 days away. That’s something to ponder.

If one friend tries harder than the other to maintain the friendship, is it worth continuing the effort? When do you call it?

I’ll never get used to going into my parent’s house and not having the dogs run to greet me.

I’ve typed about 4 different thoughts here and decided they weren’t worth sharing, which means I’m probably done.

Short and sweet.

A brief post today. You’re welcome.

Having a baby may not be high on my priority list, but being around one is a ton of fun.

I understand its fun because I’m not changing diapers or nursing.

Yogurt dipped pretzels are amazing.

What is it about mothers? They have a language only they speak, and it’s easy to spot one because the child is attached, somehow. Usually. I have a language limited to certain groups, but most of those groups are totally nerdy and not really promoted. It’s why I wear nerd shirts. Every once in a while I meet one in the outernet. It’s fun.

Being in Colorado has confirmed that I do, in fact, have allergies. Sigh.

How is one nostril clear and then an hour later they switch? What’s with that?

Being able to see my friend is worth the trip every time. Our ability to be real and honest with one another and to be able to pick up as if no time has passed is a gift and it’s something I’m grateful for. She’s always been a safe harbor for me. I’m very lucky.

Dogs man, I love them!

Why does my eye randomly start twitching? Like, not just a little bit either. So annoying!

So many questions.

What if we could go back in time? I think music is the closest to time travel I’ll ever see in my lifetime. Music can take me back to any moment in my life. I was listening to M83 earlier today and I remembered sitting on the floor in the airport with my family, with my brother’s headphones on, listening to them for the first time. Songs bring back all kinds of memories. Saying goodbye to a friend in high school before she moved away to college. Jamming out in my first car. Dancing around with a childhood friend in her apartment. Going to see a show. Working through grief, curled up alone with my cats. Fourth of July at the baseball field. An argument with a past friend. An old relationship. A road trip to Missouri to see a childhood friend get married. Riding in the backseat as a kid. Botched attempts at karaoke back in the day. Dancing at a wedding reception. Spending Friday nights at Skate Land. (heyoooo) Sitting in the living room with my brother at the rental house my freshman year of high school watching Wizard of Oz, muted with Pink Floyd playing on the stereo. Sitting on the floor with my guitar, figuring out chords by ear. All types of memories, good and bad, but they’re the pieces that make up my life. Music reminds me of those moments that may lie dormant in my mind. It’s magical really.

What would it be like if travel were inexpensive? If going all over the world, learning about different cultures and relating with humans was something that was encouraged? Would people take advantage of that? Or would things stay the same? Why is it that taking a risk is so scary, even when the reward could be so great?

I use those gain flings to wash my laundry – where does the plastic go? Does it disintegrate?

I think it would be amazing to be inside the mind of someone who invents things. How do they see the world? Does everything look like an opportunity to them? Do they see things and constantly see ways to improve them? Mostly I find people fascinating.

What if we could siphon out a few seconds of our internal playback and watch it on TV. Would it make sense? I mean, I can go from Marvel comics to coffee farms in no time at all. I just wonder sometimes what it would look like to actually watch that rather than just internalizing it. (I know I’m weird, but come on)

Why does the smell of a new book instantly make me happy?

What is it about not feeling well that makes me feel like a small child? I almost always want my mom to make me a 7-up and cranberry juice drink over crushed ice. Instead I lie on the couch in a ball, tucked under covers (and then those covers are strewn on the floor) wishing the sickness to just … go away. Time for bed, again.