Not! Dead! Yet!

This blog isn't dead yet (not to worry) - I have more ambivalent thoughts that plague me constantly and make my life seem more interesting (although in reality, I kid- I lead not the life my friends live and I am sad happy have pretty mixed feelings about how their lives seem so much more exciting thrilling who am I kidding everyone leads a more interesting life than I do ...out of here. Like I'm on a little patch of grass and they're out there in the nebula swimming in oceans of stars.

(I don't see anything wrong with the grass patch, but let me digress here, and lament on my personal gripes with age, social activity and experiences.)

I am terrible at making friends. I am really bad at it. Like I don't really get along swell with my classmates, or my peers in general- as considerably boisterous as I am and how strong-headed I seem to be you'd be surprised to know that for many years I was terrified of talking to service staff, or that around new people I don't know how to act- when I'm around new people I turn into a garden slug and kind of just squish and rolls and flop all around and I'm basically extremely useless.

I suppose to a certain degree I have some issues with myself- my friends, over time, within 2 years have suddenly become these beautiful graceful fierce slay-level queens who actually look like adults that can walk into a Zara store and feel comfortable- I on the other hand still resemble, very much, a 15 year old adolescent who still gets the Barista at STARBUCKS asking if I'm taking O levels next year. And this is not an isolated incident- I'm in some black hole of neither childishness or maturity so I spend all my time in (to my mother's great despair) shorts and a Tee, and most likely a hugely oversized hoodie. I feel like a potato. In a very literal sense. My friends have nightlife and ask me along? And honestly I would rather be in bed under my comforter reading a book and camping under a side light just absorbing new information. Besides, I can't even stay up past midnight.

Occasionally I get really upset with myself, I am neither this nor that, and I don't seem very good, but each morning I wake up and tell myself it's alright, and maybe I wasn't destined for the seemingly more interesting, fun, bright lights and thundering beats- path that those around me are on. I like the solace and I like the rain, I like cold nights and good sleep, warm tea and occasional activism while stuffing my brain with random junk and knowledge and recipes to try. I guess we are all meant for different things, and that's just fine by me.

(the picture above expresses my longing for a pool raft- I endeavour to buy the 6 dollar one at Toys R Us, inflate it and then float all over the pool after a good swim!)

In other, less pensive news I finally got my hands into baking bread to great effect- and by bread I mean my all time favourite cinnamon buns that are hardly being baked and sold anymore, and half of the time they are greasy and dry and too sweet with uneven cinnamon and overpowering glaze and a hundred other nasty things that don't make them very true to the taste I enslaved myself to as a child- so I put my hand to it and decided it was time to go bake again and produce fluffy, happy, chock-full-a-cinnamon cinnamon buns, to great effect. I'm quite pleased at how they turned out. A little on the dry side, but the bread has risen really well.

I'm all about drained for now, just came back from a long day of mugging and having classes in two hour blocks and it's really icky.

xoxo