images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes

Extremely random thoughts for you on a blustery Sunday evening in Indiana...

Presently watching The Holiday for the hundredth time and desperately wishing I could move to England.

Also loving England because of three hours spent with my dad this afternoon browsing England vacation websites.

The smell of campfire makes me want to stand outside and breathe deeply for hours, until my toes go completely numb and I can't feel my ears.

Waiting to hear back from a local, slightly upscale restaurant for a serving job... perhaps a step up from the 'bee's and a more profitable second job in the near future?

Thinking a lot lately about the future; Dan asked me where I see myself in May, and I didn't have an answer.

Getting tired of my intense paranoia concerning germs and illness.

So very over all the ridiculous, immature, childish drama at my lovely restaurant of employment.

Totally at a loss as to what to wear over my impending weekend spent out of town.

I hate living in what I consider to be an untidy sty of occasional filth, but haven't any time to properly tidy it.

Really tired of always paying bills and not saving any money for my future.

Wishing I had time to learn to cook properly, and perhaps sew, and definitely read more books.

Rather chagrined that I'm always complaining in these posts.

I definitely enjoyed my long weekend without a roomie, but I have to admit I'm rather pleased she's back (just helped her carry bags in).

Slightly concerned for my health, what with my roomie and bf suspecting an iron deficiency and a general feeling of being "off" for the past few weeks.

Dreaming dreams and wishing wishes, without fully realizing any of them.


At risk of sounding cliche or girly or whatev, yet not caring if you think that because it's true, I am completely crazy about this guy:

I know, I know. Go ahead and make fun of me. Here's to hoping.

wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door

I was inspired by my dear friend Ashley over at Our Little Apartment to highlight something I discovered lately to be rather useful. Don't fret, Ash, I'm not stealing your "Worth It Wednesday" feature; in fact, I don't yet blog regularly enough to necessitate any sort of "regular" feature. However, I enjoy reusing and recycling a great deal, and felt this was just cool enough to be mentioned on my little corner of the blogosphere.

Lo! The substance you don't often reach for, and in fact was a total mystery to the Kroger employee we questioned as to its whereabouts:


That's right, chums, cheesecloth! It says right on the label: Many Uses! They list things like straining, steaming, basting, cleaning, and polishing. I say...


Spicing! That happy little pile of cloves, allspice, and cinnamon - all bound up neatly in their cheesecloth bag - helped our hot wassail become as delicious as it did.

In addition, they kid you not when listing "cleaning" as an option. At work, we use coffee filters as an alternative to paper towels for cleaning the windows (since our coffee distributor gives us more filters than we could ever use). As for cheesecloth, 100% lint-free cotton means...


Fabulously streak-free shine. Also, meet Phoebette, my plant. You'll get the full story behind her later. It's quite a tragic saga. Woody Allen is rumoured to direct the heartfelt, yet quirky tale.

These are only a few uses I've highlighted. There are so many more. For example, I use bar soap in the shower, and always reach a point where the soap is too tiny or oddly-shaped to be easily maneuvered in any way, but I feel wasteful tossing those smallish pieces of soap. There's still soap there! I'm just too clumsy! The other day, an epiphany: Holly! Place those wee soapy bits into a square of cheesecloth to create a quasi-loofah! I promptly congratulated myself for being both inventive and environmentally conscious (a combination I love, by the way).

ALL THIS for the low, low price of $3.49! And that was just the Kroger price. Methinks you could snag some cheesecloth for even cheaper, depending where you choose to purchase your grocery-goods. Heck, it's not like it goes bad. Splurge the four dollars and keep it on the cupboard. I guarantee you'll come up with uses.

On an unrelated note, I felt very fall-esque to-day, so I tried the self-photographed-what-I-wore-to-day thing:


Uh, yeah. Please keep in mind that I have a rather crappy camera that is at least eight years old. Wait, maybe six. Anyway, blame it on the technology. And I look weird because I'm holding my scarf instead of wearing it. Let's go for take two:


Well, it's better, at least (apparently I really like holding my scarf). I'll work on it. I'm hoping to get a new camera sometime in the not-too-distant future; to expedite that matter, please tell everyone presently living in northeast Indiana to come eat at Applebee's and tip their server/bartender liberally if she has curly hair and blue spectacles. Thank you very much.

Ah, Thursday eve. Pilfered chicken tortilla soup (from my mother), The Big Bang Theory on DVD with my sister, and a new episode of The Office. Enjoy yours, friends.

and these mem'ries lose their meaning

I left work to-day and got in my car and listened quietly to music on the ride home. I didn't accelerate aggressively or get upset with other drivers on the road like I usually do. I didn't call anyone to chat or complain to about my day. When I got home, I walked slowly up the three flights of stairs to my apartment, unlocked the door, and dropped my stuff on the floor. Realized I had no full water bottles, refilled them, placed the Brita pitcher back in the fridge. I looked at the full sink of dishes, remembered I should wash them, and walked away. Changed into lounging clothes, dropped my uniform on the floor, and recalled I had planned on doing laundry this whole weekend and still had yet to do so. Walked away. Quietly. Oh so quietly.

Have you ever felt unsatisfied?

I don't mean displeased with the price of gas, frustrated over a lost piece of mail, or peeved by a minor spat with a roommate or friend.

I suppose I should ask, have you ever felt empty?

Don't misunderstand me. I am not depressed. I have a good life, with a loving family, a few close friends and people who care about me a great deal. I work hard at my job, I am recognized for it, and I am proud of that. I don't hate my crooked teeth or my small stature or how I'm forced to wear spectacles to see properly; on the contrary, I appreciate my physical quirks as reflections of my personality. I love my sense of humour and that I have those in my life that also enjoy it.

All that said, to-day I left work and realized how empty I felt. I barely made any money during a shift that usually makes me more than the rest of my week's shifts combined. People in general were impolite and stingy this afternoon. It's another absolutely gorgeous autumn day, unseasonally warm and sunny, and I had to spend the whole day inside, apologizing to tables because a fly landed on their glass and the steak wasn't cooked to their exact specifications and she needs more raspberry tea even though her glass is three-quarters full.

I just want more.

Not more money, although it would help to not have to worry about it obsessively. Not more friends, although I do appreciate that I have made a few new friends at work recently. Not more recognition or prestige or high-fives.

I want MORE. I KNOW I can do more with my life. I'm settling for living in the same town my family's lived in for thirteen years, working as a waitress for $2.13 an hour. I have a bachelor's degree in English, a deep passion for books and the written word, a burning desire to travel and see the world and indulge my gypsy spirit and I am doing NOTHING about it.

I spoke to an old college friend yesterday for the first time in quite awhile. She asked how I was doing, I updated her on my job situation - or lack thereof - and informed her that I had recently decided on my five-year plan. When I told her - in complete and utter seriousness, mind you - that I planned on moving abroad in five years or less, she laughed. I know it's not her fault to think I'm joking around, because I've been joking about moving to England for years, but still. I told my mum the other day that my goal is to move to England, and she just keeps talking about when I move to Chicago. I seriously want to do this, and no one is taking me seriously. The fact that people might honestly think I can't do it is one of the worst feelings in the world. This is my dream. If I had the money to move tomorrow I would pack my suitcase, buy a plane ticket, and leave. I would seriously miss my close friends, my wonderful guy, and my family. But I would go because I know I need to. I really, really don't want to sound proud or conceited or anything when I say this, but I'm meant for so much more than what I'm doing.

I should get started on the evening's tasks. Just so this post isn't quite so dark and somber, I conclude with a visual depiction of yesterday evening's activities:

Hot, essence-of-fall wassail and his dorky grin.


The main event: pumpkin carving! Note how focused I am on my art.


He's pleased because his pumpkin is PERFECT. [No really, it is.]
I'm peeved because mine is choppy and mangled. I'm such an amateur.


O the carnage!


His perfect punkin on the ground, next to the tiny punkin friend I got for 59 well-spent cents.
My YAR! pirate punkin is elevated to illustrate the awesomeness.

Splendid fall evening to you, friends.