the tales we tell ourselves about ourselves make us who we are.

its true. when we talk to ourselves we're as honest as it gets. well, i mean except if your dillusional. which could be your own fault.

if you think you'll marry every guy you meet: you're dillusional. if you think everyone has a huge raging crush on you: you're dillusional. if you think your going to marry a guy you've been dating for two weeks: you're dillusional.

sad fact is: i have several dillusional friends. if you're sitting there thinking, "gee, i have no idea who she's talking about right now," YOU'RE THAT FRIEND. ( i mean unless you go to cmu...in which case you should enlighten me on the fact that you're reading this)

so i found this great song: the general by dispatch. and it makes me think of how we should be.

"i have seen the others
and i have discovered,
that this fight is not worth fighting.
i have seen them others,
and i will no other
to follow me where i'm going."

i mean think about it. how many people would face something alone in order to save others? and how many people would face death when they have the chance to turn back?

"take your shower,
shine your shoes.
you've got no time to lose.
you are young men.
you must be living.
go now,
you are forgiven."

i don't know. maybe it makes me feel good. restoring faith in the existence of integrity. convincing me this world isnt just a big, superficial lie.

and i know its weird. but i have this strange obsession with ghandi. and benjamin franklin. and buddhism. it just seems logical. passive resistance. peace. rationality. realistic. good.

good is vague. i know. but it is how i feel. religiously. in life. it is my mantra. do good. be good. take bad and turn it into good. good.

and maybe i should be the one looking for a religion. but that goes against me. who i am. my independent thinking. i can't sit through a church service without questioning. no matter where i am. my church. your church. your temple.

and maybe i'm not looking because i cant stand all of this religious dogma. who is to say a person who doesnt follow the church and their ideals cant be good?

ANYWAY, so the point of this blog is to acknowledge the fact that i found my ideal man. yesterday. at the movie theater. which has subsequently caused me to ponder my mr. perfect:

he has long hair. not gross long. but light brown to blonde and flowy and silky. and not girly or greasy. but manly in a way that compliments his jaw structure. and not too long...but chin length. yes, i am a long hair girl.

and he will wear a blazer. yep, eternally dressed in a blazer. even to bed. and in the shower, there too will he be blazer laden. anyway, it will be tweed. and only a certain type of guy can pull off the tweed blazer. my kind of guy.

and he will of course have to play an instrument. acoustic guitar. none of this "I-try-to-be-badass" electric guitar kind of stuff. he doesnt need to flaunt it but he will have a good voice. not an "i love playing guitar but sing through my nose and sound horrible" kind of guy who you feel bad for and cringe listening to them. and just would rather them just stop all together. nope he isnt one of those. he is pretty dank.

and he can have an accent if he pleases. though it isnt required. i make no prejudices on country of origin...well maybe a few.

and there were other things.....oh yeah, he has to be athletic. which contradicts the last few requirements. well, maybe all of them. but has to be able to ball with me. and volleyball with me, and raquetball with me (my new obsession). and fend for his own when approached by other ballers. so that i dont have to cringe over our aquaintance.

and he will care. but not judge. and he wont care about before. only he will, but only about the way it affects me. and he will respect it. and listen. and say all the right things. and we'll have deep intelectual conversations. about life. and religion. and the good of the world. and i'll learn from him. and be challenged by him.

basically he'll be my male amber.

and he'll understand my mistakes. which is actually number one. and he'll love me even when he doesnt like me. and we'll fight. we'll fight over stupid stuff like jelly. and we'll fight over big stuff. but only because we love so much it hurts.

and i know i sound emo. but maybe those emo kids know a thing or two about this kind of stuff. love and pain. well, maybe not.

anyway. this blog is glorious randomocity. boyeee.