Smother me with Christmas Cookies

I think I'm officially pooped...and the cookies aren't even decorated yet. Actually, scratch that, I AM utterly exhausted. When I agreed, unconsciously, to make cookies today with my nieces, I was not aware of what that really meant. After melting butter, cracking eggs, and adding the powder to make the dough actually become dough, I had to use oodles of flour to get the stickiness from my hands and off the pan. Three and a half hours later, I finally finished cleaning up the kitchen since it has to be spotless for the arrival of family and clean enough for Mama to come home to.

Oh and I just remembered that sometime between now and the actual day of Christmas I have to finish shopping and wrap all of these presents. When is Christmas again? Oh yea, four days. Splendid.
This holiday is more stressful than it's all cracked to be. For what? A few hours of family togetherness and wrapping paper strewn into pieces all on the floor and to feed ourselves into oblivion? Awesome. I also believe I'm in the middle of a sugar coma right now...too much frosting in my system.

Mission accomplished, I guess. The sun just set and I'm still not wearing a bra nor have I showered. I also think I've worn this shirt to bed for three days which isn't bad, but considering I was in it for most of the day today, it's grotesque. Not at ALL burlesque as I so desire to be, every minute of everyday. Haha just joshin y'all. All I desire, right now, is to record "Die Alone" and finish the music video I started yesterday. That's a hint of what's to come.

Started baking: 1:00pm
Ended: 4:53pm
Phew.

Peace and positivity, my Carolyn Thorn enthusiasts.

What was the best advice you've ever received?

"I am I, with all the individuality of an earthworm" ~Sylvia Plath
haha well, I guess, just to "be free to be ME." And happiness isn't about a number on the scale, size of jeans, or who has the best grades, it's all about the insides and using the experiences you have to make your dreams and passions come alive.

You've got the questions; I've got the answers.

Home equals Christmas

I know I'm home during Christmas when there are cookies everywhere. We never have cookies here and yet they surround me, choke me even. Which is also totally fine by me, especially with all the Christmas books, tree, lights, and other holiday goodies as a constant reminder for my family's reason for the season. I also think that seeing little socks made for two year olds are the cutest things ever.
It's weird to be home and not be expected to go to class. Or to be expected to get things done.
It's weird when I realize that I've been away for four months and come back and almost nothing yet everything has changed. Weird right?
Makes one think about things more closely.
Alright, now I'ma get ready to go and see Black Swan.
To Do for tomorrow:
Make list for Christmas.
Shop.
Visit friends.
Repeat...

Another Poem from an Optimistic Ophelia

Look into my eyes and find yourself.
The person you believe you've misplaced.
The curve of your lip and strength of your chest,
as it alone
keeps your heart enclosed,
trapped forever beneath a mess of muscles, blood, and bones;
The heat of your smile and warmth of your hand, gently holds me-
holds all of me
in your grasp.
With eyes so sad, so injured,
yet hopeful,
you plead through them for me not to hurt you.
But what you don't know is that this is only the first, never the last.
Our embrace will never end as time may try to tatter and tear us apart.
Each time you lay your head tenderly on my shoulder,
and give me love marks,
you not only leave signs in the morning on my skin,
but on my soul, my heart, my memory.
This is only the first of us.
Can't you see that?
And there will never be a last.
This is my promise, my vow, my pact.
~ct

I think you are absolutely gorgeous just as you are now. I love how individualistic you are and I hope you never ever change!

Thank you anonymous person :) That means a lot to me.

You've got the questions; I've got the answers.

Who inspires you the most?

People who fight adversity and those who are stronger than they know and humble about their talent. Also, compassionate people who give back.

You've got the questions; I've got the answers.

Imperfect

This is not a cry for help, this is my truth.
This is not a ploy for attention, this is my life.
Did I ask for this? This pain? This is pain.
Not one bit.
But with the prize and aesthetics comes the reality that one must face.
So, I got help.
But here I remain, living my life through the eyes of the past while glancing forward at the past, the present, the future.
The me I once was, the me I am, the me I will be, all in one.
My wants, needs, desires, hopes, and dreams all melting into one another.
I remain, imperfection.
I tasted, perfection.
My mouth dry hoping for that taste to come again, knowing that it cannot happen.
I'm not strong enough, or rather, I'm stronger than I imagined.
Stuck in the spiraling staircase I plunge forward, each step lighter than the next. Or heavier.
Who knows?
Who is to be the deciding factor?
Me and all my imperfection.