ramble ramble

3rd straight day of rain so thought I could use some shiny shinies and my psychadelic print blouse. Oh yeah, and I got sick of my roots so I dyed my hair; decided that my nail polish was too green so I mixed some white in.
I really wish this room had some blank white wall, but it's colorful and messy and chaotic everywhere. Oh well. I never cared too much about sharing a room all though college but all of a sudden now all I want more than anything is my own space. and a nice fluffy pillow.
Payless boots, Anthropologie blouse, AA disco pants

Anyways, I was writing my boyfriend an email earlier today (I know right? emails... how archaic we kickin' this old school, but it was actually kind of nice) and once I got myself going on all the writing I was actually able to spew out quite a lot. Ramblings unedited but it felt good to have the words and sentences flow out organically. I feel like I don't write enough here -maybe because I find it a chore to do so? Or because it's often a chore for me to read through paragraphs of stuff on other people's blogs -I'm such a visual person anyways... And then I never really know how much of my life I want to share. Sometimes my days are straight up so boring. no inspiration. so what's the point of writing about it?
But I also think, like anything, writing is a process, an exercise, and sometimes you need to force yourself into the habit or practicing. And it's my blog after all. I'm not writing articles or a column or anything here - you're totally welcome to skip over all this text, all time -shoot, I probably won't even read this over before I post... too tedious.

On another note -- I was reading pieces of the Happiness Project about a month back (because for whatever reason, I'm really attracted to self-help books... and entrepreneureal business books... aaaaaanywaysss) and she was talking about how she had to come to terms with herself and who she was. Stop trying to be the person she wanted to be (i.e. read random scholarly crap, listen to hipster music, have patience to cook interesting meals and know French) but just acknowledge who she actually was (read self-help books, listen to mainstream hyphy, watch food network and never actually cook cool things, and only know 'oui oui' in French). Path to happiness. Know who you are. But then again 'who you are' is always changing, no? ... and she is like this, middle aged wife & mother. about time you know who you are and stop fooling yourself. at least at 22 (I can still tell myself) I could change and make me who I want to be. maybe? ...I did enjoy the book though -some nice insights.