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Tuesday, March 17, 2015

411 & I'm Still Here



I haven't worn anything for this entire break.
But I've been doing a lot of cooking and makeup work. I've moved on to Dracula for my Goth lit class, and I need to finish some art pieces and study for my LPF test out (again.) I should be writing, but I'm trying to work through some storyline comlexities, deciding what plot points are most important and how to stay within my word limit. So cooking and TV have been my go-to for keeping busy. Someone gave me salmon fillets, and I didn't want to throw them away (I'm vegetarian), so I decided to cook them. Made a brown-sugar, garlic soy sauce marinade and fried them in virgin olive oil. I actually don't like fish, and this was surprisingly good, aside from the deadly fishribs you can't detect until you're about to swallow. It was like playing Russian roulette. 
I also made something with tortilla wrap, Provolone cheese, sauteed onions and tomato, and sour cream. I made two batches, both differently seasoned. Tasted pretty good. 
Next I'll do deviled eggs, then maybe an avocado-mushroom wrap, and end my break with cucumber and green pepper recipes. Or maybe the other way around, since my green pepper is starting to die.
In between meals I've been snacking on granola bars, fruit, bread and sushi. And, uh, and coffee *she says with shame*. I need to finish the sushi before it spoils. 


I also raided Joan's fabric store and got a bunch of stuff for my textile class. 
I plan on using the yarn I bought for gradient-style camo looking hats for my brothers.
While I went shopping, I figure I'd get green tea and apple cider vinegar; I hear green tea is great for skin, and I found a homemade skin paste with the herbs that might help my currently blotchy skin. The vinegar I plan to use as a toner, as my friend (who from my recollection has never had a breakout to date) uses it all the time. I tell you, if sensitive skin and puberty hormones weren't around, my skin should be perfect. I go through such a strict regimen; I wash my face each night before bed, never in the morning so my skin has time to recover; I use rubbing alcohol to strip away impurities, exfoliating cream three times weekly to unclog the pores and dead skin, silver soap, taproot soap, and now Lush sea-salt and citrus soap, Noxema almost nightly, using hot steam to penetrate my pores, and finally freezing water to shut them again. 
That's not all; I never touch my face with my hands, always wash my hands just in case I touch my face, never let my skin touch dirty things, keep my hair clean and out of my face, change my sheets and pillow cases weekly, drink lots of water, never wear foundation, exercise almost daily, became a vegetarian, and yet my face is a pinnacle of filth. It's a cornucopia feast for bacteria. 
I've tried many other types of skin care formulas, store-bought, pharmaceutical and dermatologist recommended alike, and nothing helps my skin. I've tried crazy things and simple things, oil treatment and professional skin-stripping, patches and salves like Aloe and ointment. I do this monthly pore-unclogging that involves Q-tips, scalding water and lots of alcohol. It's very painful, but I have oily skin and wide pores on my nose and cheeks to boot, so leaving it in my skin will eventually make me look like a porcupine with all its quills removed.
Ever seen anyone with pitted skin? 
It's unattractive. I don't plan to let mine get that far. 
 Anyway, only thing I haven't tried are masks, which I might try from Lush. 
My mom tells me that when I'm older, all this BS will pay off. It'd better. Because if hard work was the key to beautiful skin, these past 9 years ought to count. 
I guess, to be fair, my chunky blue sweater has a collar that sometimes touches my face. That sweater may be warm and cute, but if you drop it on a pile of dirt and pick it back up, the dirt will all be gone. Plus, when I went to my friend's house last weekend, I'm not convinced she changed my pillow case for me. Also, she made me eat a bit of processed meat. 
Sigh.
Whenever you think you have bad skin, think of me and be grateful. 



I also want to try a hot oil treatment for my hair, but I know my mom won't let me, given where we live. There isn't enough space for it. 
And of course, in my free time I'm slogging through The Eye of the World, because everyone says Robert Jordan was endowed by the fantasy-fiction gods of writing with skills beyond our miniscule mortal comprehension. So far (fifteen pages in) I'm not impressed. I've been reading it for a month. 












Sorry, I'm not done rambling.
So today school started again. The previous night, I went to bed at midnight and lay there for literally six and a half hours and didn't fall asleep. No idea why. It was distressing because I haven't worked out in over a week and a half, and I wanted to get back on it today, and if I'm tired, I don't perform as well. So all day I've been fighting lethargy, knowing that I need to keep it together so I can exercise after school, and honestly, it's been a great day. Funny and eventful and nice. I got tired some, but nothing I couldn't handle. So when time came to work out, I got myself all ready and went downstairs to my school's track and found out it was closed for the day. I was upset, so I prowled the school and asked Mrs. Huffer, Mrs. Frey and that blond security guard if there was no way I could get up there, and they each unanimously confirmed my fear. Aggravated, I called my mother to come pick me up, but it turns out her phone was off. I called her from other phones, texted her a million times, but she wasn't hearing me, so I called around to different coffee shops she frequents until a laundromat called Alice Mae's confirmed that she was there, and delivered the message that I needed to be fetched. 
Thoroughly pleased with my ingenuity, I went to get my gym bag and clothes back on... and saw the track was finally open. 
I was SOOOO MAD! I mean, not immature mad, not genuinely pissed mad, but so peeved at the irony. I just grumbled and glowered a lot. It's kind of funny, though irritating. Then later, my mother asked if I'd 'gotten my lunch.' I was immediately confused, but then remembered that over the PA they'd announced that someone had dropped something off for me, over and over all day. Since there is another girl at my school with my name, I assumed it was for her because my mother doesn't typically drop things off for me. Besides, that other girl never comes to get her stuff from the office until the end of the day, so I gave her a chance to claim it. All the same, eventually curiosity drove me to go see if it was for me, and they told me it was my lunch.
Let me clarify. My mom doesn't bring me lunch. My mom is a nice mom, but bringing me my lunch falls under the realm of coddling, and my mother didn't even coddle me when I was of coddling age.
I've been doing my own lunch since I was, like, eight. So naturally, I left it, assuming it was for the other girl. When I confessed and my mother learned that the gesture had gone to waste, she was genuinely hurt. I felt really terrible, not just because it was a waste of money and food, but a waste of generosity from my mother. It wouldn't have bothered me so much if my mom hadn't been so sad and bitter about it--I mean, not that I let her make me feel like it was my fault. It was kind of her fault, because she knows full well there's another girl at my school with my name, and the note in the lunch didn't specify which girl it was for. When I was younger, I would have taken that, but not anymore. I let my mother know I was very sorry, that it was kind and thoughtful and how touching it was, that I felt badly and appreciated her... but it's her fault it went to waste. Nevertheless, I'm still writhing with guilt. I'm going to ask if it's still there tomorrow, if some kind soul put it in the fridge. I hope it didn't get thrown out. If it didn't, it'll be tomorrow's lunch. If it did... well, I may just still tell my mother I got it. Lying is wrong, yes, but when presented with the ethical choice versus the wise choice, moral lines tend to blur. 

Anyway, that's the 411.

Okay, so if any of you have seen Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, I think you'll like these other two movies.
You know how you watch a random movie, really like it, then forget you saw it until way later?
Well, that happened to me, and I couldn't remember the name at first, but I remembered it was called Grabbers.
It's an Irish comedy that never takes itself seriously, and as long as you don't either, you'll enjoy it. It's basically about water-thriving aliens whose only weakness is that they can't eat or kill you if you're drunk, since alcohol is poison to them, so the characters spend half the movie drunkenly trying to fight off the horde. 


The next one is called The World's End, a British film  about a group of old high-school friends who get together again and celebrate their contrived reunion by doing the "Golden Mile," a local challenge to drink one pint of beer from every one of twelve pubs, the last being World's End. But they start to realize the people of the town are acting... strangely.


And there's Rudy Mancuso's vine compilation.


And finally, here's The Goo-Goo Dolls, the American 80s rock band that brought you "Iris."
This song was originally written for Disney's 2002 futuristic spin on Treasure Island, called Treasure Planet. Personally I thought it was a great movie, but I was also, like, nine when I saw it.
"I'm Still Here."


Sorry I talked so much. But if you made it this far, you probably don't mind ;D
~Ash

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