From 9 Months to 9 Seconds

Baby FacesAllow me to introduce you to (from upper left to bottom right) the twins, Madeline and Bryce, then Evan, and Alice. These are my children. My morph children. You see, my subconscious has been whispering baby things in my ear. I, of course, think that this is very rude, very rude indeed! How dare my subconscious be thinking about things that my conscience isn’t ready to think about. But like anything else, when something is on your mind enough you have to do something about it! What did I do? Well, I made my own babies! And let me tell you, it was as easy as pie, not at all messy, and only took about 9 seconds. None of that nine months business for me! No sir!

By that, I mean that I used one of the ‘What will my baby look like’ websites to see what my children might look like if I had them with a certain person. Of course, this is something that stalkers and crazy women do…but I’m not either of those! I promise, I swear! I did have to use a crappy photo of the person to “make my babies” but honestly, I think the whole thing is a fake out. I looked at a few other websites, and they all use the same basic baby faces. The only thing I can see that might be different about “my babies” is their nose…which would belong to that other person except for maybe two of them.I think Evan and Alice have my freaking adorable nose (What?! I like my nose, okay! I’m confident in the cuteness level of my schnoz.) Actually, all of their noses are cute! (Do I have a nose fetish? Hmm) The way it works is that you upload a picture of yourself, then you can upload a picture of your partner or choose from celebrity photos and the software supposedly combines your features into the most common baby (who actually looks like a 2 year old). Oh well. They’re pretty cute little suckers, aren’t they! Strangely, even though this is something crazy stalker ladies do, it actually quieted the baby whispers in my head, and hopefully my mother’s as well. (though she’s not doing bad on that front lately) Yes, now those whispers have quieted and I’m thinking on other things now. Or, back to thinking about other things I should say. And these babies are just the best! They don’t cry, or make messes, or generally get in the way. They are there when I want them, and gone when I don’t. Yes, these morph babies will do me just fine…for now.

If you want to morph your own babes, visit This one will give you somewhat real looking photos while others are just goofs and are actual combinations of the two photos.

The Pandor(ic)a Will Open…

5073113960_9b7d65e32e_zand dancing will ensue.

So, my last post was such a downer, wasn’t it. However, things are looking up. I’ve got a lovely, fabulous bed! I got a Firefly shirt! I’m being super crafty (soon to be written about in borish detail). And I’m having nice moments at work (both of them). All in all, I am happier then I was before, which is a good thing. However, as some annoying professors always told me, there is always room for improvement.

I am on my way, which is nice. I still ponder (and often) those same questions from the last post, but I’m more satisfied with where I am now. That being said, I still get pretty blue sometimes. This, I think, comes from the fatigue more than anything. But when that happens, I’ve taken to dancing. I turn on Pandora, create a Harry Belafonte station, and I just dance. I did that a lot this past weekend. It made all the difference, I can tell , you especially when I realized that the blinds were still open after dark, and I was dancing away when the neighbor directly opposite the windows walked into his room and just stood at the windows for a moment. I took a split second to think “Well, crap. I probably look really silly”, then I stopped caring and continued dancing. Between dancing, and singing, I think I can get by. And now that I have a wonderful bed (and, I discovered, an awesome credit score), in addition to some furniture, and curtains (though I didn’t put them in front of the window, and instead hung them behind the tv in my room to brighten things up), and some home-made crafty touches in my room I feel like I’m working towards something! I’m not sure what, but apparently my subconscious thinks I’m working towards a relationship. Why does my stupid  brain have to dwell on people from the past, people who I am supposed to have forgotten? Oh well, I can’t control the dreams I have. But, I can try to control my moods while improving my dance moves! So, go ahead and open that Pandor(ic)a! Anything but silence will fall! It’ll probably just be me falling from trying to pull off vagabond dance moves!

(If you got the references in there, you get a gold star!)

Don’t Blink


Still working, working a lot, working so much that I realize I’m getting older (well all those silver hairs around my temple were making me realize that in addition to the plaguing fatigue). Despite my constant need for sleep (even all the free coffee doesn’t help) things are going well enough. I’ve settled nicely into both jobs, and made some new friends in the process. The problem is that I really don’t feel like I’m around people at all, despite being surrounded by them all the time. I don’t have a lot of time to socialize when I’m not ‘on the clock’ and when I am free, I find myself falling face first into bed despite the desire to be out of the house…either that or I resemble an exhausted 5-year-old in my sensitivity and moodiness. I, in fact, started crying last night because I was too hot. I even made my roommate verify this by touching my arm; she replied with a confused, “I don’t know what you want me to do.” I simply walked out of the room crying, saying that I was hot and didn’t know why! Yup, that’s me. Life is passing me by as I work and sleep. There’s a voice in my head (The Vagabond Voice) telling me to get a life, telling my not to blink, if I blink then I’m dead. (Yup, I’m a Whovian. Even more awesome now, aren’t I?!)

A couple of weeks ago, I was wondering how I might go about meeting cool new people (which might also lead to dating opportunities without going back to internet dating) combined with interesting outings; since most of my long-time, and long-loved, friends are now married and living further away with hectic schedules, the need for fresh blood was greatly felt ( I know what you’re thinking. “This girl doesn’t have time to sleep, let alone date!” Welp, you’d be right.) So, I joined a plethora (there’s that word again, such a wonderful word) of meetup groups hoping to discover fun and interesting people while doing fun and interesting things on my days off. This was my effort to get a life instead of letting it pass me by. The only problem with this is that the coolest things are happening while I’m at work, and I’m almost always too tired when I’m not. I’ve gone back to dreaming of the camping and hiking I’d like to do, of the dog I’d love to have, of the exciting road trips I’d like to take (alone or with company), of the Jeep Charger I’d like to have, of the adventures I’d love to go on, of the things I still want to learn….of the life I’d like to have. But right now, I’m stuck going through life on auto pilot, with my eyes wide open, not blinking.

Another topic under discussion in my wee little head is where I will go from here? How long will I stay at this position (if I’m not laid off)? What would I really like to be doing? A non-profit you say? Well, which one, and doing what? Do I want to stay in STL? Well, Northern California was so beautiful! What about Oregon, and Washington too? I could apply to Teach for America? Well, yes but then I wouldn’t have much control over where I go, nor do I want to be a career teacher. Would that, then, be a smart move? When will I feel more complete? When will I sleep? …When can I blink?

Super Special Super Power

daydreamSo, everybody, things have not turned out exactly as I pictured. When I was offered two jobs within two days the life that I pictured was quite different from how it has turned out. Of course, I knew that I would be working a lot, but somehow my brain did not reconcile that reality with my daydream. My then future roommate and I were rapturous (sorry, but since it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, my brain is exploding with all these awesome words which I simply must use!) with the exciting plans we were making about all the fun things we would do together, all the experiences we would have, and all of the changes we were going to make in our lives with the support of one another. Welp, soon after I moved in we both realized that all (or most) of our plans wouldn’t come to fruition.

Yes, I am a super girl. The mere fact that I work 17 hour days most of the time, and as yet have managed to do so without passing out and have only left work early once entitle me a cape. (Though, of course, I know that many people in America work just as much or longer hours without earning nearly what I do. Believe me, I am fully aware of how lucky I am, and that I am working so much out of choice and not need.) What are my superpowers, you ask? That’s simple! Naivete! Yes, I must have been so naive when I decided to work both jobs. I am doing so in order to pay off my student loans as soon as possible, as well as the other debt I accrued during my period of unemployment, and though I think in the long run it will be well worth it, it is starting to feel as though I’m not actually living. Strangely, I ‘lived’ more when I didn’t have a job!

My days normally consist of getting up and ready before my awesome roommate. We catch up in the 5 minutes before she gets in the shower. I leave for work #1, then go to work #2, and I get home after my roommate is in bed. I still have the daydreams of taking a yoga class, and a dancing class, and having all sorts of fun adventures on the weekends, but it’s looking more and more like that won’t happen for some time to come. For now, I’m being very un-Vagabond like, and am working hard at working. Hopefully, it will lead to  actually ‘living’ sooner then I think.

Rejection Detection

rejection-letterSo, now that I’m set up with a pretty good job (and am slinging coffee part-time) I can safely talk about this particular phenomenon. Over the past few months I applied to a plethora (do you know what it means to have a ple-thor-a?) of positions, from whom, in most cases, I heard nothing in return. Now that I am safely ensconced in the daily grind, I am hearing back from them en mass, and the replies are annoyingly disappointing. Yes, I have a job that I think I will like, but hearing (or reading, rather) that so many of those positions for which I applied found me undesirable is just plain aggravating. Most of the rejection letters don’t say anything directly about me and instead just state that the position has been filled, or other candidates were more experienced (which I completely believe and understand) but there are a few who outright said I wasn’t qualified for the job. My feminine brain (stupid emotional female brain) interprets this as, “Pffff! You aren’t good enough for us! Why did you even apply??!!” ….The thing that really sucks about having estrogen is that even if the rejection comes from something us women don’t want, we are hurt and suddenly indignant! Yes, to be honest, I was rejected from some jobs that I didn’t really want in the first place, but I’m still mad at them for not wanting to hire me.

And what’s even worse is that once rejection rears its ugly head, I flash back on past rejections. In this case, I’m speaking of being rejected by people. However, like the subject above, I am speaking of being rejected by people for whom my feelings weren’t particularly strong (actually, I kind of wanted to break up with them in the first place. No, really!). Do men have this problem? Like when you’re dating someone and they break up with you…and you’re immediately relieved, but then you’re mad that they broke up with you!!!!

So, now I’m mad not only at jobs I didn’t want, but at people I didn’t want! Do I know this is stupid? Yes. Yes I do. Ladies, I know you know what I mean. Men, if you don’t experience or understand this feeling, we can at least shake our heads together and think,”Bitches be trippin’ “.