the best (or worst) $2.75 I ever spent, or An Ode to ZzQuil

can't sleep, won't sleep

I haven't been able to sleep for a month, so yesterday I took matters into my own hands and got some drugz. So what I'm really saying is I put my agency into the hands of a pill bottle. Or something like that.

Everyone knows that I don't do drugs; drugs do me.

Despite the fact that I woke up feeling like I was full of Jell-O, I don't think that was too bad. I came out pretty unscathed. Can't say the same for my stuffed llama though...(I found him hurled to the other side of the room this morning which means I probably threw him in my sleep. Sorry Skeeter).

Anyway, this whole not sleeping bidnez has awoken me (ha! #jokes) to other problems in my life which I have chosen not to face, for whatever dumb natural-man reason. And so, I've decided to disconnect from things that distract me or give me negative feelings. Srsly. I don't have time anymore to be feeling badly about things I cannot control.

It's time to treat mah-self, if that makes any sense. Time to take care of me, and choose myself. It sounds like a no-brainer but I have a hard time with it. I give too much to others and don't leave any for myself. I bet there's some of you reading this who do the same...well, cut it out, dangit. Just stop.

And now, that "ode" I promised you. It makes perfect poetic sense to write this, you know. Most Romantic poets wrote craaazy stuff when they were high on Opium (cough Samuel Coleridge cough). I mean, c'mon. Kubla Khan? Nobody knows what the h that is about. Nobody. Not even ol' Sammy himself. And yes, I was suffering from the hangover that 4 (and I do mean FOUR) sleeping pills caused me.

I could have spent that $2.75 on a Slurpee... (still working on a title)
sometimes I'm sleepy but I just can't sleep
you'd think it were easy to just count sheep
but alas I'm awake and it's 2 AM
so I think I'll make some toast to go with this jam
(stomach grumbles)

one hour later and I've finished Harry Potter...
...Books one through four, now I'm parched for water
I go to the kitchen and what do I see?
A giant Bengal tiger climbing our tree!

I yelp like a kid on the last day of school,
Just want him to know I ain't no fool
He gives me a wink and leaps to the ground,
Which causes an earthquake and an awful sound

The ceiling above my head starts to give way
"Dadgumit I never thought I would go this way!" (I say)
So I eat the peanut butter sandwich which appears in my hand
And I raise the roof, I take a stand (lit'rally)

My roommates wake up, they're glad I was there
To save their lives quickly in the midst of a scare
To think that my insomnia actually saved lives!
When usually it turns me into a zombie with crazy eyes

They're hoisting me on shoulders, grabbing Gatorade
No doubt to pour on my head but I'm still afraid
This is all a dream! No, it couldn't be
I never fell asleep because my brain's on a spree!

But wait--my eyes open, they feel like lead
And here all this time I was laying in bed.
I realize the whole thing was a movie in my brain
And I'm sad cuz I really wanted to taste that Gatorade Rain.

EL FIN

Guys. I wrote that in 20 minutes. I know it's terrible. Just...just...yeah. Does anyone else think ZzQuil sounds like a rapper name? Did you know there's such thing as a Rapper Name Generator? You're welcome.

Today I feel like the boy who did this worksheet.

Alwayz and forever, you guys.

whatever that means...

me whenever my wifi signal is weakening: ♪♫ "I'm holdin' on but I'm barely breathin'..."♪♫

Today I gave myself a flat tire while I was walking, which I thought was physically impossible. How does someone even do that to themselves? 

If you had to choose between world peace and eating chocolate with every meal, would you have dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

I think about things. Sometimes a little too much. My brain doesn't let me sleep at night (especially lately...it's like, yo brain, it is not Daylight Savings Time yettttt #help). I keep thinking about my future and how my present is affecting my future and what I can do to help it along, because the future is now, and it's tomorrow, and I worry too much. That's just it. I need to stop worrying so much. I think if my heart could talk to my brain, it would say, "Baby, can you just chill for like 5 seconds?" Srsly. Calm the h down.

This blog post is just a brain barf, strictly for me. Hopefully you guys don't mind that I plaster all my ape-crazy thoughts on the internet. I feel vulnerable about it sometimes, but I mean...you don't read my journal (except for when I put that on the internet too, oops). Right? Why am I justifying this?! Gah! Overthinking again.

I think it's story time. Story time always brought joy into my heart in elementary school, especially if it was Roald Dahl (and it was always Roald Dahl, lezbehonest).

So once upon a time, I went on this road trip. In Mexico. It was a 12-hour drive (woof) to a beach town, and some ruins, and tacos al pastor. You would drive 12 hours for tacos al pastor if you had ever tasted tacos al pastor. Truuuusssttt me.

???????????????????????

(I'd just like to speak up for Sara here and say she just reached out, with reckless abandon, not thinking about where she was reaching. *drops mic*)

So we're road-trippin it, like white people do, with our Ritz crackers (or the Mexican equivalent, which is actually really grodie) and liters of Jarritos and fruit snacks and Chokis (not the gross tattoo necklaces of 90's. Duh. These were like Chips Ahoy, but 10 zillion times better, amen.). I had my Coldplay playlist ready. I mean. It was just...it was great. Road trips. But we didn't know that road trips in Mexico are a little different than they are in the Estados Unidos.

First of all, there are no rest stops. So if you have to relieve yourself, you gotta wait 'til the next gas station, which will just tempt you to buy more junk food and more Jarritos, which will make you have to go to the bathroom again. It got to the point where we would hold races on who got out of the bathroom first. It gets to be a little hard though, when they charge you for squares of toilet paper, per square.

You wanted proof. I have proof. Sorry mom that this picture exists of my hand holding toilet paper which I paid for and then used. Ugh what a terrible sentence

So our plan-o was, in order to save some monies, we would just have the bus driver drive through the night until we got to the beach.

Ummmmmmmm did you know you can't sleep on buses in Mexico? Like it's physically impossible. Because of the roads. Because there are speed bumps on the freeway and also potholes the size of Montana, so when the bus driver hits them going full-throttle, you wake up in a daze, in the air, thinking "Wait why am I levitating?" and then ka-blam, you land on your tush and your short life flashes before your eyes and all you can think of is the tacos al pastor you'll never get to try because you think you're dying, but you're actually just on a road trip.

I gave up on sleeping at around 1am, and started to take some delirious photos, which I now treasure. It's like seeing through the eyes of a drunk person. #drunkonsleep #represent #imstillwhite

#art

HAHAHA

Then I turned around and took a picture of the people behind me. About 75% of the people in this photo threw up at some point in the evening, because oh yeah, I forgot to mention, but the road we were on curved like a snake for 10 HOURS. Even the bus driver was leaning out his window and barfing. Which is just the most comforting thing, as I'm sure you can imagine.

sorry Italia. The literal translation of the light-up thing is "We Didn't Know What We Were Getting Into When We Started This Please Help Us"

#noitdoesn't

Well, by morning, we had finally reached le beach, and stumbled out of the bus nearly unconscious and covered in each other's barf (realness is what I strive for, yo. realness). The ocean was a glorious sight to see. We moved like people move that have just been discharged from the hospital way too early, if you know what I'm saying.

That day, we sat on the beach all day long. I made a very unwise decision in that I put sunblock on exactly one time, and that was right before I went swimming. By the end of the day I was fried like a Twinkie at the fair. I could barely walk I was so sunburned, and an entire bottle of aloe vera didn't do much besides make me feel like a swamp monster.

I drank about 4 gallons of agua because my body's temperature was jacked up to 1,000 degrees, and of course, that filled up my bladder quite efficiently. I like to know that my bladder is working, you guys. Even if it's an overachiever and causes me to have accidents sometimes, like for example, at the tender age of 7, right before the school bell rang and I was scrambling to put my jacket around my waist when the kid with the rattail mullet came out of class and said "YOU PEED YOUR PANTS!" I think rattail mullets should be outlawed. Just for the record.

So, as you can imagine, that night in Mexico, I did not want to change into my jammies, much less shower, because any movement caused me to feel like ten volcanoes were erupting on the surface of my skin. #ouch

But I had been road tripping for over a day, and there was definitely barf residue on my clothes, and Mexico beach residue, etc, etc etc. So I showered. In Mexico, the toilet and shower area aren't separated by anything. No little wall or tub or anything. It's all the same floor area. Ya feel me? Do you see where this is going? Straight to haaaaaaillllll.

I was showering and minding my own bidnez (like most people do when they are showering....??) when I noticed the toilet water starting to overflow....

Is it weird to get on your knees and pray in the shower?

Yeah. It's weird. I didn't do that.

But I know I screamed, which probz woke up everybody in the hostel, and probably in the country, because YO, toilET WAter was FLOWING TOWARDs me! And I was completely exposed to it! A river of death and disease was making its way toward me, and I felt something like what the Egyptians probably felt when the Red Sea was hurtling towards their perfectly eyelined faces. I know that was sacreligious butttt....

I immediately screeched through the slatted door to my roommates to go get a toilet plunger from the hostel manager/owner/whoever was sitting by the front desk and had a mustache. They came back and reported that duh, there were no plungers up in here because this is Mexico, and the plumbing is super lame and everyone just deals with it.

Why? WHy. I didn't do anything to deserve this. I didn't even use the toilet to make it overflow. So WHERE WAS THE JUSTICE. I resigned myself to this awful fate, while the toilet water started to make its way toward the door....which led to the room....I mean. Get yo hasmat suits on, errybody!

Btw, I was still in showering mode, if you know what I mean. Luckily, being without clothing does not hinder my thinking abilities. I actually get the best ideas while in the shower! So maybe this was meant to be. I can't believe I just said that about almost drowning in toilet water.

Well, I thought as fast as I possibly could, and mustered up all the courage I had left in me, and thrust my fist into the...toilet....

I've never actually typed or written those words. This was going to be one of those oral legends that just gets passed down through generations, and never written down until someone like Shakespeare or Homer got a hold of it and made it sound 10x more eloquent than it actually is.

I used my fist as a plunger, and it worked just fine, but then I used up the entire bottle of soap I had on just that arm.

I wouldn't blame any of you if you never wanted to touch me again.

There is a good ending to this story, however! We got our tacos al pastor. Heh.

And then we drove home on a different road, which wasn't as curvy. 

Road trips. 

I just like to smile, smiling's my favorite

"...and they lived after the manner of happiness"

The other day I was scrolling through this here blog as I often do to make myself feel betta. And I felt happy imagining all those things in my life, and also realizing that some of those things are in my life already.

That got me thinking s'more (mm s'mores), mostly about happiness and why is the world so gloomy anyway? 

Like, f'realz. The world is uh-mazing. Sure, it's full of yuckcentral stuff that makes me cry when I read about it in the news, but I came up with a solution--stop reading the news! Bam! 

"Men are that they might have joy." It doesn't say "men will be that they might have joy..." Nope, that was written in the present tense because yo, it means we're supposed to be happy right now.

I know about sadness and suffering and depression and all that. I know it's hard to see the sun through the clouds on some days, and those days feel infinitely longer than others. But I know it's possible to find even a small sliver of happiness in there. It will get you through.

So the next time you feel a warm fuzzy coming on, don't push it away because you're upset or sad about something else in your life. Let yourself be happy for just a few seconds, and just watch what happens. 

The corners of your mouth will start to turn up and soon people around you will be smiling too because you'll be smiling and then maybe there won't be as many sad news stories because you made the world just a little bit happier.

Yo, I know this post is sounding reallllly optimistic and sometimes people want real-ness. Well I'm here to argue that happiness is just as real as sadness and sorrow. They go togetha. 

I came across this quote last week and it made me think:

I actually attack the concept of happiness. The idea that - I don’t mind people being happy - but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It’s a really odd thing that we’re now seeing people saying “write down 3 things that made you happy today before you go to sleep”, and “cheer up” and “happiness is our birthright” and so on. We’re kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position - it’s rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don’t teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say “Quick! Move on! Cheer up!” I’d like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word “happiness” and to replace it with the word “wholeness”. Ask yourself “is this contributing to my wholeness?” and if you’re having a bad day, it is.

– Hugh Mackay

I agree with most of what this guy is saying....I wouldn't say I "attack" the idea of happiness, but I do think we often push away real emotions because of the world we live in. If it doesn't look good on facebook or instagram, we don't want people to see it. 

I guess the main point is, take time to feel things. Don't let anyone take away your right to feel, or make you feel dumb for feeling anything. Pain is something you carry with you, and happiness is too. They go together in that metaphorical suitcase we carry around, so wear 'em proud. 

Sadness is important and you should feel it; but be careful not to let yourself drown in it. Happiness is important too and you should let yourself feel it. Don't push it away like I sometimes do. 

And that concludes today's ruminating blerg post.

Oh p.s. go watch this if you're feeling sad. I promise you will be happy after you watch it. KTHXBYE.

pretty sure autocorrect is just an iPhone's version of a Freudian slip

WHY ISNT' EvERYoNE READING THIS~~~???

Okay. So I have been shopping for iPhone cases for a shameful amount of time. And if I see one more case with a chevron pattern on it I'm probably going to punch myself in da face.

The other night I was falling asleep and the tune of some song got stuck in my head. Just like, FIVE CHORDS, yo, but I could not get it out of my brain, because my brain wanted to figure out what song it was and I just couldn't do it so I kept singing the same five chords to myself. Does anyone else's brain think that they have time to be singing 5-chord songs at 12:30 am (I mean besides Taylor Swift)? No?? You're lucky.

This blog is a dadgum mess. Just like moi.

According to the Facebook ads, I am
a) single
b) need a new phone (beat you to it this time, f-beezy)
c) Mexican (pretty much true)
d) still single (I get a lot of these ads, okay)

Last night I learned that you can't brainstorm rap lyrics in the shower, which is a major bummer because the shower is where I brainstorm everything, even my grocery list. But this is what I came up with: "Feelin' real tough while I'm standin' in the buff." ??????????????????????????

Life lesson: don't write song lyrics when you're nekkid showering.

This is my inspiration right now (shout out to my homie Caitlyn for showing it to me):

(p.s. this is actually what it's like to work at a natural food store. ACKshully)

And while we're on the subject of music, NICKEL CREEK IS BACK TOGETHER.  I can die now. Well wait, first I have to listen to their new album 1,567 times. Then I can die and you can play this song at my funeral.

It feels like Crazy Craig from Parks & Rec took over this blog post. Anybody else gettin' that vibe?

me too, Craig. me too.

Woof. Somebody bring me more pain medications. 

Peace. But first, more funny gems from the internet this week because I jUST can'T. 

ha. HAHA. I read an article about this later. Apparently JCPenney was tweeting "with mittens on." So is that the new code for "I'm completely wasted"?

"Hey officer, I know it might seem like I'm drunk cuz I just hit that pole over there but I was just driving with mittens on."

....


I think these are the greatest things ever.


I honestly want to put this on my wall.

and since we're still on the subject of daft punk (not really...)


mmbye now. I really need to sleep more.