If you knew you could get away with something, would you do it?
So I have this theory that a lot of people have certain types of eyes. These are the three that I can think of right now, and not everyone fits into any of these.
Sex Eyes
It's like they're constantly undressing you with their eyes, every time they look at you. Sometimes when you're talking to them, their eyes leaves your eyes momentarily to gaze at your mouth and then they slowly pan back up. These eyes often have this hazy misty look that makes them seem like their lazy. It's kind of like you're in a lounge with dim lighting and jazz music in the background. And they're just gazing into your soul, and undressing you.
Happy Eyes
These eyes shine like crazy and it's not about the color. They're like stars that never dim, they're always lit up and seem to be wide and full of energy. The eyes exude pure and intense joy, filled with an exuberance that is infectious. Doe eyed and bushy tailed. These people almost never fail to have happy eyes, so it seems like the only emotion they're capable of is happiness. Probably not true, but that's what it looks like anyhow.
Twinkle Eyes
It's like Santa Claus, or Mrs.Claus. It's like they're always merrily winking at you even if they are not. There seems to be a mischievous secret or a bit of mystery behind those eyes. At the same time, they are full of warmth and love. The eyes often narrow into soft kind wrinkles, usually accompanied by the slight hint of a smile.
So you if know what I'm talking about and you've seen people with these eyes, awesome.
If not, well, maybe you'll meet someone with one of these eyes one day, and you'll know what I'm talking about ;)
Sex Eyes
It's like they're constantly undressing you with their eyes, every time they look at you. Sometimes when you're talking to them, their eyes leaves your eyes momentarily to gaze at your mouth and then they slowly pan back up. These eyes often have this hazy misty look that makes them seem like their lazy. It's kind of like you're in a lounge with dim lighting and jazz music in the background. And they're just gazing into your soul, and undressing you.
Happy Eyes
These eyes shine like crazy and it's not about the color. They're like stars that never dim, they're always lit up and seem to be wide and full of energy. The eyes exude pure and intense joy, filled with an exuberance that is infectious. Doe eyed and bushy tailed. These people almost never fail to have happy eyes, so it seems like the only emotion they're capable of is happiness. Probably not true, but that's what it looks like anyhow.
Twinkle Eyes
It's like Santa Claus, or Mrs.Claus. It's like they're always merrily winking at you even if they are not. There seems to be a mischievous secret or a bit of mystery behind those eyes. At the same time, they are full of warmth and love. The eyes often narrow into soft kind wrinkles, usually accompanied by the slight hint of a smile.
So you if know what I'm talking about and you've seen people with these eyes, awesome.
If not, well, maybe you'll meet someone with one of these eyes one day, and you'll know what I'm talking about ;)
The musings of this summer....
Mr. Kao
I have been called Mr. Kao more often than I have been called Ms. Kao through email at this point. People, how many Ariels do you know that is a man? Have you not seen the Disney movie? That mermaid is basically wearing nothing but a bra, it's a female.
Sex Music
You know its bad when Spotify suggested playlists/music based off of what you listen to and what shows up is: "Sex songs-Instrumental Saxophone Songs Love Making Music" ...i know what you're thinking, but it's all because I happen to enjoy jazzy elevator music and soft piano love songs.
Yogi in the Making
It really doesn't get much better than doing some level 2 Yoga with your coworkers and then eating Vietnamese Pho after work. I mean....I definitely fell over one time because my shoulder and head got tangled under my arms or something. Both my supervisor and the yoga teacher laughed at me. Somehow I dont think Yoga is my thing....
#Popular
Also my supervisor suggested I don't call more than 5 people a day because even if they don't pick up, they will get back to you the next day and it gets overwhelming.
Well, I thought that because it's email it shouldn't be that bad...except when you write: feel free to call me at this number. On all of them.
And I contacted like 25 people.
Tomorrow should be interesting......
Mr. Kao
I have been called Mr. Kao more often than I have been called Ms. Kao through email at this point. People, how many Ariels do you know that is a man? Have you not seen the Disney movie? That mermaid is basically wearing nothing but a bra, it's a female.
Sex Music
You know its bad when Spotify suggested playlists/music based off of what you listen to and what shows up is: "Sex songs-Instrumental Saxophone Songs Love Making Music" ...i know what you're thinking, but it's all because I happen to enjoy jazzy elevator music and soft piano love songs.
Yogi in the Making
It really doesn't get much better than doing some level 2 Yoga with your coworkers and then eating Vietnamese Pho after work. I mean....I definitely fell over one time because my shoulder and head got tangled under my arms or something. Both my supervisor and the yoga teacher laughed at me. Somehow I dont think Yoga is my thing....
#Popular
Also my supervisor suggested I don't call more than 5 people a day because even if they don't pick up, they will get back to you the next day and it gets overwhelming.
Well, I thought that because it's email it shouldn't be that bad...except when you write: feel free to call me at this number. On all of them.
And I contacted like 25 people.
Tomorrow should be interesting......
I was telling my mom about a beautiful friend of mine that I took photos of. She kind of just shrugs her shoulder's and goes, eh she's alright - she's just average.
Inside I was offended, like personally offended. It felt like she just insulted my own looks but she neither insulted anyone nor offended me personally.
I suppose I get attached to each subject of my portrait photography. I spend so much time editing them and trying to make them as pretty as I can, and often fall in love a little bit. I know their appearance so well by the end of an editing session. I know the proportions of their body, where their moles are, what pimples they had at the time, what pattern their freckles are.
It's creepy perhaps, but also beautiful. I never thought you could get to know a person so well through photography.
So yeah, I guess it makes sense for me to be defensive. But at the same time, it makes no sense.
Inside I was offended, like personally offended. It felt like she just insulted my own looks but she neither insulted anyone nor offended me personally.
I suppose I get attached to each subject of my portrait photography. I spend so much time editing them and trying to make them as pretty as I can, and often fall in love a little bit. I know their appearance so well by the end of an editing session. I know the proportions of their body, where their moles are, what pimples they had at the time, what pattern their freckles are.
It's creepy perhaps, but also beautiful. I never thought you could get to know a person so well through photography.
So yeah, I guess it makes sense for me to be defensive. But at the same time, it makes no sense.
It isn't until your sister takes your chair away and you are forced to use her armrest-less chair that you begin to wonder if your chair had any.
Isn't it strange that I don't know something so basic about something I am in contact with every single day? I guess it's because I never encoded that information in my brain. I obviously received some sort of brain signal about it everyday because when I looked at the chair through my eyes, the retinal ganglion cells sent messages to the brain through the optic nerve.
What I mean is, I can't believe I don't know this piece of information. Don't sweat the little things right?
Isn't it strange that I don't know something so basic about something I am in contact with every single day? I guess it's because I never encoded that information in my brain. I obviously received some sort of brain signal about it everyday because when I looked at the chair through my eyes, the retinal ganglion cells sent messages to the brain through the optic nerve.
What I mean is, I can't believe I don't know this piece of information. Don't sweat the little things right?
In my superficial musings, I say to my sister:
"You know, #subtweet is such a beautiful girl. But her boyfriend isn't that good looking, she can do better..."
My sis: "Wow Ariel, maybe he has a good heart. You're such a butterfly person"
So, two things:
1. Yes, I am superficial for saying that. I know better than to judge a book by its cover, but I'm only human and I am going to fall prey to thoughts like that sometimes. Mostly if they arise, I keep them to myself though.
2. Yes, I did just use a hashtag gimmick from twitter in order to keep the name anonymous, and I will probably keep doing that until I figure out a better way.
What she meant by calling me that referred to a conversation we had earlier when we were talking about butterflies and moths. My mom was so excited she found this summer camp about butterflies for her, and my sister was quick to tell her that she actually hates butterflies. My mom and I were both surprised, cause like, who doesn't love butterflies? The ensuing conversation went something like this:
Jamie: "Butterflies are just like moths, and I mean, you hate moths."
Ariel: "I do hate moths, but I mean they're fatter, less colorful, and squishier-looking them butterflies."
Jamie: "Yeah well do you see why society likes prettier and skinnier people now?"
I think the actual conversation was a little more deeper sounding then what I've written here. But at any rate, my sister was trying to teach me that I shouldn't put value on things just because they are more beautiful. True, butterflies are skinnier, daintier, and more colorful than moths. But when you get down to it, are they so different? I mean, I'm sure there are many other scientific, biological differences. But I mean, when it comes down to the bare bones of what they are, they are both flying bugs with giant wings.
Is it fair for me to hate moths and love butterflies? Probably not.
Guess I'll have to rethink my life a bit.
That and somehow get over my disgust of moths.
"You know, #subtweet is such a beautiful girl. But her boyfriend isn't that good looking, she can do better..."
My sis: "Wow Ariel, maybe he has a good heart. You're such a butterfly person"
So, two things:
1. Yes, I am superficial for saying that. I know better than to judge a book by its cover, but I'm only human and I am going to fall prey to thoughts like that sometimes. Mostly if they arise, I keep them to myself though.
2. Yes, I did just use a hashtag gimmick from twitter in order to keep the name anonymous, and I will probably keep doing that until I figure out a better way.
What she meant by calling me that referred to a conversation we had earlier when we were talking about butterflies and moths. My mom was so excited she found this summer camp about butterflies for her, and my sister was quick to tell her that she actually hates butterflies. My mom and I were both surprised, cause like, who doesn't love butterflies? The ensuing conversation went something like this:
Jamie: "Butterflies are just like moths, and I mean, you hate moths."
Ariel: "I do hate moths, but I mean they're fatter, less colorful, and squishier-looking them butterflies."
Jamie: "Yeah well do you see why society likes prettier and skinnier people now?"
I think the actual conversation was a little more deeper sounding then what I've written here. But at any rate, my sister was trying to teach me that I shouldn't put value on things just because they are more beautiful. True, butterflies are skinnier, daintier, and more colorful than moths. But when you get down to it, are they so different? I mean, I'm sure there are many other scientific, biological differences. But I mean, when it comes down to the bare bones of what they are, they are both flying bugs with giant wings.
Is it fair for me to hate moths and love butterflies? Probably not.
Guess I'll have to rethink my life a bit.
That and somehow get over my disgust of moths.
Sometimes it's hard to think and do at the same time. Sometimes it's really not hard at all, and you're just absentminded.
I was taking out some blueberries to eat and I was going to wash them. At the same time, I was thinking about adapting the muffin tin cherry pie recipe I recently learned for blueberries. I was also thinking about how I need to buy gluten free flour if I wanted to bake some for my gluten free, lactose intolerant, vegetarian boss (yikes she can't eat anything!). She's so kind to me, and I want to do something nice for her too.
But anyway, as I was thinking about the oven and baking in general, I accidentally walked over to the microwave and put the bowl of blueberries inside. I preceded to set the microwave time to 20 seconds, and then stopped before I pressed the start button. I remember thinking "how long should blueberries be microwaved again? I think 20 seconds might be too much, it's more like...oh dammit, why did I put the blueberries in the microwave?"
It's moments like these that you start to realize you're getting old...no I'm only kidding, really, I probably just had a long day.
Or as my friends would say "Go home Ariel, you're drunk."
I was taking out some blueberries to eat and I was going to wash them. At the same time, I was thinking about adapting the muffin tin cherry pie recipe I recently learned for blueberries. I was also thinking about how I need to buy gluten free flour if I wanted to bake some for my gluten free, lactose intolerant, vegetarian boss (yikes she can't eat anything!). She's so kind to me, and I want to do something nice for her too.
But anyway, as I was thinking about the oven and baking in general, I accidentally walked over to the microwave and put the bowl of blueberries inside. I preceded to set the microwave time to 20 seconds, and then stopped before I pressed the start button. I remember thinking "how long should blueberries be microwaved again? I think 20 seconds might be too much, it's more like...oh dammit, why did I put the blueberries in the microwave?"
It's moments like these that you start to realize you're getting old...no I'm only kidding, really, I probably just had a long day.
Or as my friends would say "Go home Ariel, you're drunk."
The entrances and exits to the metro always has people asking for money. For those without a sign, I wonder what's their story. For those with, I wonder if their story is real. It's always the same people, but today I noticed a woman I hadn't seen before standing to the side with a backpack and a cardboard sign. It read "Just left an abusive home. Please help" Something about the look on her face led me to walk over and hand her a dollar. And when she stared back at me with a sad smile on her face and said "Thank you, God bless you", I believed her story.
I will never understand the giant complicated, tangled ball of yarn, that is my mind. Yet I want some way to document every thought, each stage of enlightenment, the good and the bad, that flows in and out of this mind of mine. I mostly craft the most carefully thought out ones into a facebook status if I believe people would care to read it. I try not to waste anyone's time. Because honestly if you take the contents of ones mind (all the things that flew through it) of one day, we would get 7.1 billions of series of books that no one has the time or energy to read.
That being said, I want to be able to look back on my developing years as I transition from crazy wild nights that comes from being young and independent, to when I finally understand who I am and become a full grown woman. It's a constant battle between wanting to still act like a child and wanting to be professional and mature in all I do.
So here goes, this is an experiment. And like all experiments, you never know if your hypothesis will be correct and what the results will be. Just gotta wait and see, I suppose.
That being said, I want to be able to look back on my developing years as I transition from crazy wild nights that comes from being young and independent, to when I finally understand who I am and become a full grown woman. It's a constant battle between wanting to still act like a child and wanting to be professional and mature in all I do.
So here goes, this is an experiment. And like all experiments, you never know if your hypothesis will be correct and what the results will be. Just gotta wait and see, I suppose.
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