&Remembering that "Illness is not a metaphor." A sound piece of wisdom I first encountered through Susan Sontag and is a tough idea to shake, and if you don't understand what it means to remember that "illiness is not a metaphor" (like I did when I first encountered it), I've become to understand it as the way that humans who believe in a specific sorta way of human existence wherein there's a "heaven" and a "hell" and that some Being is judging them by their actions here on Earth, which means that if you suffer an illness, of the body or mind, this is somehow some sort of punishment upon the "sinner," etc. If I'm wrong, in my interpretation, please inform, or point me in the right direction, and I will read some book about it. Thanks.
&Wondering why my face skin is, all of the sudden (as opposed to back when we first drastically changed our everyday living environment when we moved from the dry mountains to the moist seaside), not liking the climate. I think it's a combination of my jobplace mask-wearing and the general oilierness of my skin, in general, in this climate. I am curious, though, about why the shortened "combo" for combination is not "combi," which would make more sense, in my mind, but whatever.
&Realizing that I absolutely cannot get over that brown, turned grey, turned back into dark dark brown strand of hair! It's taped up on a door, cause, What the fuck?! The other thing about the strand of hair is that it's curly where it's grey and for two more curls where it turns back to the dark dark brown, and then it's jet straight all the way to the root. Like seriously, what. the. fuck.
&Wanting to write a lot more fiction. The Listmaker, the character about whom Book III is titled (The Listmaker's Ranch), remains elusive. A lot of the other characters are becoming impatient, and I can hear the impatience in Ladybug's voice nearly every day. Ladybug, in particular, grows impatient when I am obligated to other (menial) tasks that require my brain power, leaving less brain power for the writing of the things that need to be written, etc.
&Ladybug thinks that this is all a stupid fucking sham, anyway. Cause like, the reality of the situation is that "the few" must do what "the masses" demand, like always, cause like, at the end of the day, the death of "the few" comes at the hands of "the masses" when "the masses" become The Mob. Mob Rule to kill them all. Imagine that. Being ruled by "the masses"! Imagine it! Omffingg. Like, that is one Living Hellscape. *shivers*
&Fantasizing about the British Royal Family's final act upon their inevitable death (as an institution, like relax) being something about how they donate tons and tons of money to the research of cancer, and it is, thusly, because of them that humanity cures itself of cancer! BAHAHAHAHA! A girl can dream. *vomits* Wouldn't that be something, though?
&Great salads require a lot of prep work. You will know you're in "great salad" territory if the preparation of the salad stuffs takes ten times the amount of time it does to eat the salad.
&Embarking on a loop that will take us through our fave musubi cafe, Daiso, and the bita shop. The weather continues to bring rain, when what we want is a sunny summery beach day. Winter is real here.
&Yea, it's just like really pretentious.
&Feeling a little freer every day.
&Reminding myself, as often as I think of it, that if it takes my entire lifetime to become and, thusly, be the person toward whom I'm striving, then, like, that's sorta the point, no?
&Singing, "I ran out of tears when I was eighteen," cause old school The Weeknd was ... something else.
&Ladybug finds it very confusing that The Listmaker, someone about whom I know very little (according to Ladybug), would headline Book III, cause like, if I knew The Listmaker, I wouldn't waste my time making "that guy" the main course, "if you know what I mean," Ladybug explains. To which I question why Ladybug cares at all about who the protagonist or subject of the book is or will be? And Ladybug scoffs. Obviously, Ladybug is jealous that I am not writing an entire book about Ladybug. Obviously. And part of me wonders why I am not writing an entire book about Ladybug, but then I remember that the point of Ladybug is to be pointless, and yet, Ladybug is oftentimes the catalyst for spacetime travel, etc. It is because Ladybug has arrived that anything ever happens, really. There are a lot of ladybugs on The Listmaker's Ranch, and Ladybug knows this. Perhaps Ladybug is frightened of my poking around at what it means to be a ladybug, what it means to be Ladybug. Like when the panda in Kung Fu Panda 3 wonders, "Am I the son of a panda? The son of a goose?" Life's greatest challenge is "to know thy self." Man, I've been watching a lot of movies lately. But not too many. Maybe Ladybug doesn't want to go there.
&Intriguing nonsense about how to turn the LOPSIII model into a story-like metaphor, etc. The bodybuddy/lifemate thinks it can be done. I am less optimistic, because the idea is not exciting. The idea is much more suited to a textbook, but I understand what/that the bodybuddy/lifemate wants to do/do it.
&Now we're off on our loop cause everything's finally open.
&Having trod the loop, I wasn't hungry for musubi on the way out, so we went straight to Daiso, and while we were at Daiso, I remembered that it was B&N that I needed to go to, cause like, I've been in desperate need of a new notebook, but I've been procrastinating/not that desperate cause my whole job situation has been very demanding, but now it's leveled out etc., and so, after swinging through the bita shop, we went to B&N, and it wasn't even open yet! So, we went upstairs, because we needed to burn exactly ten minutes, the perfect amount of time to grab musubi!
&Feeling the pressure of that new-notebook feeling wherein I deeply ponder what first thing to write in it. Probably something about Ladybug, for Ladybug's sake. *shit*
&Becoming hungry.
&Shouting, "Yes," to the bodybuddy/lifemate, "and can I also have a slice of cake!," a slice of chocolate cranberry fudge cake that he made last night from the recipe off a can of cranberry sauce that was sitting on the "free stuff" table in the laundry room for which he realized he already had all of the ingredients. *drool*