As I Sit Here, Wishing to be Weird

As I sit here, completely uninspired and desiring to be, I watch other people. I always have watched other people; I watch them, wondering if they’re inspired or even happy. I’m not happy. I’m sitting here writing what feels like prose poetry, forgetting the definition I learned in school, catching every spelling mistake and getting frustrated because I hate prose poetry. Why can’t we keep the two separate?

And I realize that I need to cut my fingernails because it is no longer satisfying, but annoying to have them hit the keys on my keyboard. Maybe if my nails were stronger, but they don’t feel strong. I don’t feel strong. I’ve been sick for the last week, and I still feel exhausted. The coffee and bagel aren’t helping my energy levels…

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I am still sitting here writing whatever this is. Whatever this is that is completely inspired by my utter lack of inspiration. My desperation nags at me. I don’t want to be writing right now. I want to read, reread The HobbitPride and Prejudice (no zombies please). I want to do something where it’s considered acceptable to do nothing but read all day, the same books I’ve read a thousand times, if I so choose. I always talked about going to culinary school while I was a cook. Well, maybe I am still a cook, but not right now, right now I’m funemployed, as I’ve called it… My little joke, euphemism for not having a job because my old employer lost interest in us.

And I remember how fun it is to have my hair “weird” colors. I miss pink and purple and I long to try “opal” and I can’t because I worry that I may actually get an in-person interview with a company who doesn’t want to hire people with “weird” hair. At least I grew out my faux hawk. Not to mention, this is San Francisco, the mecca of weird hair, weird people. WEIRDNESS. I long to be more weird, but it’s expensive to be weird. Tattoos, hair dye, piercings, unless you have awesome weird friends with talents they’re willing to freely give away. The services required to look “weird” are not cheap. Unless you wanted to look cheap as part of your weird. I don’t know. I want my hair to look artistic and cared for, not just weird.

I am still sitting here and I’m glad, knowing that my goal of forcing myself to write something down would make me write anything and would also literally make me feel better. I do. With my “normal” blonde hair, or maybe it’s bland, I don’t think so, yet. My shirt that says “but first, coffee.” Another attempt at normal I guess. If I stopped being so normal, I would be more brave. I miss being weird. When I first moved here, to San Francisco, I was more weird. I had more “muchness” to me. But I’ve been scared and become lazy too; I think that’s the problem.

I don’t know where to go to become inspired. I want people to call me to hang out and they don’t. I don’t know where to go. I want someone to guide me a little. Help me become weird again. Instead I sit in the cafe, drinking coffee. Pretending to be normal. Wishing I could play guitar. Maybe in an alternate life I learned to play and became a busker. Maybe that’s in the future.


Chicken Fried Chicken, Gravy and Fried Asparagus

Earlier in the evening:
I have found a recipe for chicken fried chicken tonight. I do not know how to make gravy, but I suppose I will find a recipe for that too. I have no idea why, but the recipe really just sounds yummy…I’m not sure if that’s something a normal 22 year old makes for dinner when she doesn’t have a man to feed (mine is back home in Sacramento), but why do I need an excuse to make something delicious? Women need to eat too, and the way to my heart isn’t flowers and chocolates, as my boyfriend found out this Valentine’s Day.
We had a wonderful day exploring the Embarcadero, which I haven’t done in the five months I’ve lived in this huge city because, hey, I’m busy, ok? Graduate work is not like undergraduate work. There is much more reading to skip out on and it is a lot harder to fake being knowledgeable in graduate school! But I digress, the way to my heart is exploring new places, buying French bread rolls and butter and eating it on a park bench and then enjoying a delicious plate of Tandoori chicken (my boyfriend isn’t very adventurous) and Tawa Scallops (?) (soooo soo good).
It’s a lot easier to just write for a personal blog than when you’re engaged to write for an internship. I wrote the previous two paragraphs in five minutes because I had something to say, whilst it would take me an hour to scrounge up something halfway decent for my internship. This is probably because I’m not quite busy yet this semester, and probably also because I was so burnt out on writing about literature that I couldn’t think about the books I was already reading in class. Also, I was compelled to find an angle on literature that made my articles relevant to current events, etc.

Later the same evening:
As I sit here drinking white zinfandel, I think back on my dinner-making experience of the night. And I realized that there a few things in life as exhilarating as making a recipe correctly, nor as disappointing as wasting food by preparing it incorrectly. Tonight, I rocked it! And sadly, had nobody to share it with, as my roommate is a vegan…but we talked about it while we were both in the kitchen making our respective dinners, which is always an enjoyable moment for me. She has not always been a vegan, and my guess is, will not remain one for the rest of her life. Most people don’t. It gets to be too difficult when you are older. Though in modern times, I suppose that it will be easier to remain vegan with all of the food-products that are becoming popular for non-meat-eaters.
Anyway, my chicken fried chicken (I used Coconut oil instead of lard) was delicious, and my accompanying milk-gravy turned out rather well, if a little too thick and flavor lacking. It was definitely gravy this time. last time I made gravy—and my boyfriend will attest to this fact—it was just…bad… though it had more flavor, being made from I think bacon juices, it was not in fact gravy by the end….I think I failed to add enough milk to it. However, I was guessing that time, and this time I watched a YouTube video on it and had a real recipe to boot! Oh, and I mustn’t forget to mention my fried Asparagus. It too was delicious! Just heat a little olive oil in a pan, add the asparagus, et voila! it tastes perfect, although it could have gone a little while longer for more tenderness.

Chicken Fried Chicken
Chicken Fried Chicken