...That's What She Said

Life seems to be one parallelism after the next. An event that appears to coincidence is just fate or a fluke, depending on one's take on life. For me, each moment in life is a stepping stone to the next on an inevitable path. You cannot control the direction you're pulled in, but you can choose how you feel about it and what measures you'll take to step forward or back. You can delay and stray, but if you're willing, you'll find yourself back where you need to be. Like happiness, positive growth is a choice. You can wallow in sorrow over a lost friend, or you can go out and find a new one. You can immerse yourself in worry over financial strife or you can work around it. Everything is temporary. Most feelings are fleeting. Everything changes.

In other news, I seem to have moved in between a stripper and a drug dealer. The first is confirmed, but the second I only wonder about. If someone is ALWAYS home and has a lot of brief visitors, that's an assumption one could make... though, if he is, he's an awfully nice drug dealer. The stripper on the other hand, gives new meaning to the term "dirty whore". She often wakes me up around 2 in the morning slamming doors and clomping around on the wooden floors with her big stripper shoes... but that's not so bad. Her habit of leaving trash outside her back door until it grows maggots and her dogs and apartment being infested with fleas that have come hopping through the walls to visit Hershey are my major grievances. My poor dog's butt fell off on Saturday. Yes, you may take that literally. The bloody hole that was once a furry rump is healing slowly, but the medication is helping. The landlord is looking into extermination for the building. A different neighbor, who I think works in a call center, was telling me about his dog's new flea issues. I gave him some of Hershey's medicine and advised him that his music sucked. I let him know that once my computer is fully functional, I'll burn him some cd's that he can blast through my floor boards and I won't mind as much. I'd much rather hear Muse through the floor then whatever crap he's playing on the radio. I spent last week baking bread and cookies as gifts, and a way to break the ice with the neighbors since I'm not that outgoing of a person. How better to get in good in the neighborhood then to bribe them all with food, right? I was informed last night that one of them hasn't even touched my cinnamon raisin bread. Jerk.

The newest life update I have to share happened just moments ago. My aunt applied to be on some new reality show for models. She apparently recommended me as a photographer. They want 4 photo samples of my work and a five minute video along with a written essay. Now, I hate reality shows for too many reasons to list... but the idea of following the rest of the sheep in this country looking for a quick way to get rich and famous is tempting. I doubt I'd get accepted, but if I did... I could make money doing art instead of typing up boring contracts and pleadings for picky attorneys and judges. If anyone has a video camera, I might just send in an application for the heck of it.