back and forth

sometimes you read that life is a roller coaster. sometimes you hear it's a ferris wheel. the gist of it? sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down. and whichever it may be, it'll be something else before long.

and so the pendulum swings. that's how you know you're alive.

so one week you're out every night, soaked in champagne and sparkling like a star.

and the next week you're in bed with a fever, watching awful awful TV and the scheisse netflix sent. and it's crappy, but it's your own damn fault, because netflix is your bitch and does your bidding.

all is not lost!

quiet time is a great opportunity to take your emotional temperature.

and i have absolutely stunning new shoes, and a new bag.

since i was about 13, i've kept a journal. a handwritten notebook type of journal, with alternating pen colors, stickers, postcards and pictures.

lately, i've been blogging and not writing in my journal. my journal lies neglected. and i thought well, i can at least glue some pictures in there.

so i'm at work. i'm wearing a pink cardigan. i look a little pale. so i put on some sting eyeshadow, and then my sweater and makeup are matching, which is recockulous, but i don't care. and i want to listen to some music, so i plug my iPod into my eMac, and my iPod has a pink iSkin, so everything is pink pink pink.

and there i am at my desk, affixing images printed from flickr to the color printer in my journal. and T IMs me and he's all, what are you doing? and i'm all, i'm cutting and pasting. and then my new watch arrives. and i write to him, it matches my sweater. and my eyeshadow. and my iPod.

and he writes, you're such a girl.

and yeah, i am. thanks for noticing. i nourish my inner child. but here's the thing:

i was looking at pictures of dina lohan and i started thinking. where is the line in the sand? when do you say to yourself, "self, leave the pasting of pictures, the pink trinkets and the child-like glee behind" ? when do you ditch the low rise jeans, the paisley swimsuit and oversized glasses, so to speak?

of course, the pendulum quickly swung the other way and i watched the killers on TRL and did some research on teen heartthrobs panic! at the disco. ruffled shirts, moulin rouge-obsessed, accordians, makeup? just what i need. and the under-21 boys are androgynously, innocuously cute, with their //haircuts// and funky makeup. and besides, it's my job.

(one thing i did happen upon, in my research? boy-on-boy fan fic fantasies. that's right. girls writing love stories about these boys being in love with each other. having sex with each other. this what the kids are doing now. fantasizing that their idols are gay. so there may be hope for the future after all... i mean, i found a boys kissing site run by a 15 year old girl way before bareback mountain... girls are learning to objectify boys and turning the tables. guys love girl on girl, so why can't girls like boy on boy? check the comments: i wish i was a guy just so i could kiss hot emo boys )

(listen - p!atd: but it's better if we do, and i write sins, not tragedies)