For The Birds

Today was for the birds.

I suppose a lesson could be that sometimes, people suck. Find the ones that don't, and love them a whole lot.
Also, sleep is good.
Along with the occasional short blog post.
~*Read me I'm super interesting*~

Zzzzz,
Jordan

La Poem

After watching a few mindless hours of sitcoms, I realized that today was hardly eventful...and also how much I love sitcoms.

Earlier in the evening, I did craft my yearly ornament. I have made a homemade ornament every Christmas for as long as I can remember.

La finished product:

A little gingerbread man :) And a very satisfied me.

I acknowledge that this post is on the shorter side, so I suppose I will put in the beginning of a poem that I scribble-typed a few days ago. I am not sure if I want to end it as is, or add on. Feedback is of course, is much appreciated.

And la poem:

I sip applejuice from plastic cups

As my boyfriend twiddles his thumbs.

He’s wearing his pull-over that makes him feel “college”

And I’m biting my lip wondering what leather tastes like.

We were talking about boots that zip

And now I can’t get the smell out of my head.

Thinking of cows on my feet

And the free flank steak I ate about forty five minutes ago.

If I look at my bottom right forearm just right,

I can see the big dipper.

My freckles, mirroring the sky.

Someone once told me we were made of stardust

And I told them that they were stupid.

I’m made of my grandfather’s lady bug tattoo

Of blades of grass, holes between teeth,

Unmade beds, dirty ankles,

And fingertip kisses.

I am everything that I hoped I would be

But perhaps nothing that you’ve wished for.

...It seems a bit rushed, but again, just a tentative ending.

Thoughts are welcome,

Jordan

Spooky Pudding

The above is what I busied myself with earlier this evening. Every year, I bake an absurd amount of Christmas cookies with my mother and a couple of her friends. I adore baking, and I tend to go overboard when it comes to holidays. I really enjoy themed foods and baked goods (notice the rice krispy "wreaths" in the second row?).

This past Halloween, my favorite time of year, I decided to make a large amount of vanilla pudding for my boyfriend and dye it green. I mixed the ingredients, calling it "Spooooooky Pudding!" with a cackle and crazy eyes. He was somewhat amused by my creativity, but not by the finished product. Apparently I had purchased pudding that needed to be cooked over a stove top. After three different attempts, I had burned all of the cooked pudding, creating a green and black mess that tasted quite like dog poop.

We ate it anyway.

And that's all I really have to say. Except that I currently cannot find my favorite Beanie Baby and I'm quite distraught.

ChimChim come back,
Jordan

Some Pig

Around 6:15 this morning, I stirred in a state of half sleep and wake. I felt a small tickle on my right wrist, and nonchalantly brushed it with my left, middle finger. My fingertip touched a fuzzy, dime-sized spider which sent my body into an exorcism-like series of convulsions. I flicked the spider into the darkness of the bed, and continued to flop in a panic. I did not scream, but could only think of my last post regarding the Mirkwood spiders--and realizing that they are smarter than we think. They found me.

I threw the covers off, searching the sheets frantically, and then ran my hands over my body in an attempt to find the small beast. I wondered how many nights have been spent with me fast asleep while small spiders crawl on my wrist, unnoticed? There is the supposed tale that we swallow "x" amounts of spiders every year while sleeping, and I never believed it until now. I eerily spoke aloud, "My body is not my own". 

Dramatic, yes? Necessary? I think so. 

I grew up watching my beloved VHS of "Charlotte's Web", crying at the end of the movie when Charlotte died after giving birth to her offspring. Now, being more educated on spider-culture, I know that her babies most likely ate her. Female spiders will often die after birth and become a sacrificial meal to their children. The sweet, endearing Charlotte was nourishment to her creepy chorus of little babies. The Christ figure of the barnyard.

I currently sit in my over-sized Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, eating my $5.99 Chinese takeout. I treasure every bite, acknowledging the inevitable fact  that the arachnids are turning on me, one by one.

 

It's only a matter of time,

Jordan

Lucky Charms and She-Elves

As I gorge myself with stale Lucky Charms, I find that I cannot stop geeking over the second Hobbit film. So, warning, this post may contain *~spoilers~*.

1. First of all, I would like to rave about the film character Tauriel. Tauriel is a woodlands elf that was created specifically for the movie. Her fighting techniques and bow accuracy rivals Legolas' skills, and the film even suggests that she is his love interest. Her beauty and bravery also wins the heart of the young dwarf Kili, although the rapport and dynamic of their relationship is quite awkward. Kili even drops a sly sexual innuendo, which I found more uncomfortable than anything. Strange relationships aside, Tauriel is a bad ass woman character that is empowering and refreshing. Totally not mad that she was written into the story.

2. The Mirkwood spiders--holy shit. AKA: Giant, vicious arachnids that talk in voices that sounded similar to the narrator from "Scariest Places On Earth". That's right, the spiders talked. And the scene essentially portrayed what I feel like anytime I see a spider.

3. Smaug is incredible and brilliant. The fire-breathing dragon did have more dialogue than I originally thought, but Benedict Cumberbatch was nothing short of perfect. The special effects in general were magnificent, although I've read some social media complaints that some scenes were a bit unnecessary. I completely disagree, except for I personally think that the Orcs are exhausting themselves. Of course we know that the Orcs are another aspect of the Hobbit films that are not in the book, and they do make things more "exciting". However, give the dwarves a break, man. The Orcs are getting a bit old, and are losing their sense of danger. Instead of "Oh no! The Orcs are back!", it's "Of course the $!@&*^ Orcs are back."

4. I also find it humorous that as awesome as Gandalf the Grey is, he always leaves the dwarves and Bilbo when they need him most. We can sense that something intense and terrible is about to happen, and then Gandalf decides to leave the company to fend for themselves. "Gandalf? Where are you going? Are you leaving?", they ask everytime. YES, YES HE IS. The film then turns into a montage of the company battling evil creatures and running for their lives alternated with Gandalf riding through a field or tip-toeing through an empty cave, shushing no one.

But really my only major complaint is that we now have to wait another year for the end of the trilogy. The film ended with such a cliff hanger, that I have no idea how I can wait.

So I think I'll get a Mighty Kids HappyMeal (they have cute toys right now),
Jordan

Elevenses

Upon waking up this morning, I thought about body moles. I have a dusting of a few, thick freckles, but nothing that reaches "mole status". I sleepily turned to my boyfriend and touched the few moles that he has along his collar bone. They are raised and magnificent, with personality. I confessed my jealousy and slight concern at not having any moles, but excitedly told him of a tag-mole that I had once pulled off of my neck. Soon, the conversation diverted to this:

Moles playing tag. I wish that I could take credit for the original picture, for it is quite adorable. I like to picture my moles flourishing in a kitchen setting, only inches away from an uncharacteristically large worm.

Tonight I sit with the anxiety that comes along with going to a midnight premier. I have never been to a premier because I typically cannot stay awake and engaged at a late hour, and I suppose I've never felt passionate enough about a film to go through the effort. I will soon be traveling to Gateway Theater to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smog, and really, I'm quite stoked. Being 5 ft tall with thick, dark, curly hair, one could say that I embody the Hobbit-ness. I am often hungry and sleepy, only lacking in the hairy feet (which I wish that I had..I could become very obsessed with Hobbit Feet).

In Bilbo We Trust,

Jordan

Baby, it's cold..everywhere.

I'm sitting in my boyfriend's bed, atop his ripped 600 count sapphire colored thread sheets and tangled in an old, patched quilt. Blowing in my face is an old heater that we found in the basement that smells like forest fire, and hitting me from the side is the draft through his thin windows. It's finals week at my small, liberal arts university, and I am officially finished with fall semester. As I gorge myself with Reese's that I bought on sale, and Yoohoos that I didn't buy at all, I reflect on the fact that my 21 year old body aches with the desire to be nothing but warm.
It is December in Ohio, and snow is already here. It is the opening to a long winter, and at least six months of cold (honestly it does not begin to warm up until the last week of May). With winter break ahead of me, I know that I will spend my days in baggy sweaters and thicker socks, thinking that menopause sounds like an appealing alternative.
I started this blog because A., I am an English Major. Words leak out of my finger tips, anyway. B., I have high hopes of one day being Carrie Bradshaw, and C., Maybe someone will find it and think that I am undeniably interesting. Perhaps I will be the next blogging queen, and finally have something to distract me from the cold.

Until then,
Jordan.