Confession: I'm a tatted up, bibliophilic punk rocker.

I really enjoy creating playlists from my favorite music each week, my Tuesday Music Mix, but yesterday was just not having it.  Really though.  I was at work all day, ya know, working and stuff, then out to dinner with Jon and when I got home I was up until two am finishing some homework that was just a couple days late.
Obviously I had wayyyy more time for watching the Belgium vs US game then I did for getting on blogging.  Sue me.

BTW, right on Tim Howard.


So because I love my music, and my brain is completely fried today even after three cups of coffee, I'm posting my playlist today instead of yesterday.

I'm a rebel, I know.  Don't have to tell me twice.

 

Song list:

"Elevated" by State Champs

"Soul & Body" by Air Dubai

"Loose Ends" by Real Friends

"Adelaide" by Anberlin

"A Call To Arms" by Bayside

 

All of these songs are from artists playing at this year's Warped Tour.  I'm really damn sad that I can't go this year but I play the compilation CD in the car, close my eyes and pretend that I'm there, surrounded by the pungent smell of pot and rubbed on by sweaty dudes in sleeveless shirts.
Sigh.  A girl can dream.

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Today I'm also linking up again with Vodka and Soda for Humpday Confessions.  I don't have anything crazy vulnerable to put out there like last week, but here it goes.

I confess...

...that I loathe, dread, hate homework but, dude, I get so freakin' excited to do the science experiments for my bio class.
Last night I bounced in to the living room to show Jon the status of my egg experiment, which was an egg soaked in vinegar, karo syrup and coffee for about a week, and all he could do was yell at me, "Ew!  Why the hell are you touching it with your bare hands?".  Hater.  What he didn't understand was that it might be an a gross egg but it was a really cool gross egg.

...that I often I would rather sink in to the couch and read then leave the house to actually do stuff.  Such is the life of an addict.

...that I didn't do my homework on time this weekend and covered by telling my teacher that I had trouble with my Internet.

...that I reeaallly want a full sleeve of tattoos but am too scared of what other people will think, especially possible employers.  Would I be able to get a job?  What if I can't cover them up?  I stare jealously at other peoples' tattoos but don't have the balls to get another one for myself.


Source

What are your humpday confessions?
Would you go for the sleeves?  Do you even like tattoos?  Do you even go to this school?  (10 pts for whoever knows what movie that's from!)


Linking up with Vodka and Soda.
Check out previous weeks' music mixes here.



Confession: I'm a nervous wreck

If it isn't already obvious, let me just throw it out there that I am a huge worrier.  Actually, I'll just cut the crap and admit that I have straight up anxiety.  Small things, past things, all things, it doesn't really matter, my brain just needs some type of fear to latch on to and get worked up about.

Usually it starts from some insignificant thought like "I need to pick up dog food after work today."  Totally normal, right?  But then my mind starts to gradually pick up speed and turn out shit like "How the hell are we going to buy dog food when Jon gets out of the Army?!  We're going to be broke and maybe end up living out of a shopping cart on the street!!  Homeless people love dogs though, so we'll fit in, right???  They'll accept us...maybe they'll take pity on us for being so newly homeless and share their dog food??  And we won't be able to take showers to maybe I'll have to grow out dreads???  Damn, our finger nails are going to get disgusting."  And so it goes.

I'd really like to say that I totally made up the melodrama of that scenario buutttt I didn't.  That whole thought process has really happened in my big ol' brain.
Thank God it's big because it gives me so much more room to worry.
Yeah, I'm sick.


Source

Anxiety has this nasty little habit of making you feel completely alone and, if I could sum up anxiety in one word, hopeless.  It rips away your self-assurance and leaves you feeling really scared and exposed, alienated.  It feels like you tried and failed and ended up three levels below everybody else on the planet, like the worst possible thing is going to happen because you are completely failing at life.

This morning I fell in to one of these sinkholes while driving to work.  The sun was out, the sky was blue, the grass was green and all I could think about was how much more money we need to save up before Jon gets out and, ohdearlord, what if he can't use his GI Bill and we can't pay the car payment and how am I going to buy all the Mexican food that I really need when we're back home and dead flat broke?*
*Note: Usually my anxiety-driven mental tirades are made entirely of panicked run-on sentences.

Everything in my world was fine yet I knew that I was going to fall apart and fail at life.  I was starting to get panicked and, if I must admit, really freakin' down, and it was only 7:30 in the morning.  I could feel stress starting to creep over my shoulders and down my spine in an attempt to smother me like a scratchy wool blanket in the middle of summer.

Then Jon drove passed me in his little red car, fanatically waving and smiling at me.  He was driving some of the guys around so they were all pressed up against the windows waving and smiling too.  And I was reminded that, you know what, I am not alone.  Not even in my stress and my failure and my falling apart.  This thought changed everything for me.  Right away my brain short-circuited, my mouth dropped open (literally) and those scary, tormenting thoughts ran away.  My world was righted.

I know that I'm again sounding unecessarily melodramatic, but it's all true.
There's this pretty damn cute guy that, even when I want to break a plate over his head, is my absolute best friend.  We fight, sometimes pretty badly, and have gone days without talking to each other, but I know that because of him I will never be alone.  He'll be there to deal with my spit phobia, incessant talking on long drives and whenever I get a case of the crazies.


This is all about anxiety but I guess it's all about relationships too.  They make my world, and even THE world, go round.

I don't know what I'd do without that ginger fella.

Linking up with Vodka and Soda