Oh

IMG_4047, originally uploaded by nicolemonet2002.

Today has been one of those days. A day that was both monumentally dull and far to loud, while being simultaneously silent with far to much going on under the surface.

My fellow crazy people know what I mean.

In other news it is once again NaNoWriMo time. National Novel Writing Month, for those of you who haven't surrounded themselves with aspiring writers. I have a few friends participating this year and I'm more then happy to once again be a part of the cheer squad.

However, for the first time the beginning of NaNo finds me in a intrigued sort of mood. Intrigued in the quiet flirting kind of way in which your fingers slide over the keyboard as if to say hello to an old lover with unfinished business. I'm curious. And while I have no plans of writing a 100 page work of fiction... I think I may attempt another something that has been floating around my mind.

Wordplay

Dirt Between the Dirt

Arctic Monkeys 2, originally uploaded by nicolemonet2002.

Humbug.

That's actually what I felt upon first full listen to the Arctic Monkeys new album. Consequently, I spent much of my first listen thinking that Josh Homme [Queens of the Stone Age lead singer, and producer of the album] had a little too much influence on the cd's sound; the whole thing originally felt more like the QotSA then Arctic Monkeys. However, I've been listening to Humbug for the past couple hours and I can admit that it's grown on me. There are a lot of subtleties to this album. Much more then either Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not and Favorite Worst Nightmare . Actually, now that I'm writing this I think I may like this album more then Favorite Worst Nightmare.

In other news that has little to do with the deconstuction of the Arctic Monkeys [And believe me, that's where that was headed... You can thank me for stopping myself if you must.] School starts next Monday and my birthday is that Thursday.

Crazy. I'm going to be 22 and still upon meeting me, the most common age people assume that I am is 16. Some of have gone as far as to get upset when I claim to be anything older then 18. It's... odd. Especially considering, that my mother had been married, given birth to me and separated from my father by 21. Especially considering, my grandmother had given birth to 3 children by 21... And yet, at the age of 21, 2 weeks away from my birthday not only do I not look old enough for any of the women I become interested in [it's curse, I fall for older women] the idea of being forced into a 9 to 5 is enough to send me into a [mostly mild] panic attack.

Oh well.

If the point of College is to grow up, does that mean you stay there until you do? Could I do that? I mean sure, my grandmother thinks I'm wasting my life away... But really, I'm fine with that.

Self-Amused?

The Kills, originally uploaded by nicolemonet2002.

Is it wrong that I amuse myself? Am I to much in my head? Sometimes I wonder.

I mean, it can't be a good thing that sometimes I'm not sure if I've spoken out loud or simply thought something. And believe me, that happens a lot. And it's NOT amusing when one isn't sure whether you've said something insanely scathing within the hearing range of the person said scathing thoughts/words were spoken near.

However, on the other hand... It does provide me with a constant reel of things I did/said/wrote that I found amusing. That can't be bad. In fact it could be said to be a tad narcissistic, but it's really not! I'm just used to amusing myself!

...And apparently it's gotten a bit extreme...

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Bah. I've come to accept my insanity. In fact, if ever I completely realize all of the facets of said insanity I'll write a book. It'll be titled "Dissecting my Crazy." Book reviewers may call it a self-indulging waste of trees. However, with out a doubt it will have a few lovers. After all, there's got to be others in the same boat. High functioning crazy people just trying to figure out exactly how crazy they are. And the book would be amusing. So maybe it wouldn't be immediately written off. After all, everyone likes to read about how crazy other people are. It gives them a sense of security. Relief. It gives them the ability to say, "Oh thank heavens, at least I'm not that bad"

In a way, I'd be doing a public service while providing a wee bit of humor into my self-depreciation. I would be the example to hold up. I would stand there as an example that, yes. Crazy is the new sub-genre of normal. It's ok. I'll walk you through this.... You know, when I'm not being distracted by my own insanity.

Actually, I think when ever I do write and publish "Dissecting my Crazy." I'll add a small blank journal to the back. Or have it sold with a separate journal. The title of course would be, "Dissecting YOUR Crazy." The sub-title will of course be, "Acceptance is the first step to Infinity." The sub-title of course will be confusing to non-crazy people. However, knowing you're crazy doesn't change your crazy. It just means that you acknowledge it and plan on playing it off as a quirk.

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Really... the original point of this post was to see if being amused by things I've done in the past made me odd...

Deus. Maybe I should just stick to blogging