in the ideal world.

in the ideal world, i would write funny bits and pieces of my everyday life and make every situation seem really witty and interesting. (news flash: its not). i had imagined myself sitting down in a picture-perfect setting (you know, the candles, the music, the chai tea, the sound of your neighbor mowing their lawn. oh the ambiance.) writing the night away. then i realized two things. one, i really love sleeping. and two, what you love to do normally wins. however, i also really realized that i was not always not writing. i realized i constantly write in my head (then the smart one reading this will state that those are just thoughts, you idiot). even as i am in the midst of a situation, i think about how i will tell the story. sometimes life seems much more poetic when thought of in this manner.

in the ideal world, i would write full page essays about each all the happenings as of late. but, i do not have a lot of time right now because i am listening to a really good song and it's about to turn into a dance party up in here. and also, not even my mother would read essays about all the thoughts i have on a daily basis.

in the ideal world, these following statements would be headlines that all the essays and chapters of my future memoir will have the honor of beholding:

________

i have decided that my writing style as typography goes resembles a lot of e.e.cummings' poems. all lowercase, an excessive about of parentheses, you know-- deep crap like that.

 i watched the movie, begin again, yesterday and honestly did a small squeal of excitement throughout the entire movie, gushing on keira knightly's outfits and the whole concept of the movie, honestly.  OH, and the music! go to spotify right now and have it be the sound track you listen to as you read this.

 i realized that watching gilmore girls is even better the second time. and in chunks. seven-episode chunks, especially.

 i am reading amy poehler's new book, yes please, and am really enjoying myself. i also cannot remember the last time i read a book for fun. (4-5 years? kindergarten?)

 i have felt an overwhelming sense of thankfulness thinking about how lucky i am to have such a loving, kind family. not in a cheesy, life is perfect way, but in a wow life is so unpredictable yet beautiful way.

i have been wearing a lot of dresses lately. because, heck, everything is better in a dress. 

 i have realized that i really like to sing in the car. and also realized that my younger brother (graham) seems turns up the music as i start to sing. wow, what a coincidence!

 i rarely feel put together if my room is not clean. oh hey, my room is a mess. 

i am really bad at calligraphy and quite surprised at how hard it is. help a sista out, anyone?

i am surprisingly okay-kinda-freaking-awesome at public speaking. like, perfect score on my final formal speech good. i don't brag about a lot of things, but MAN, you got to give me snaps for this one. (notice i said snaps, not claps. i have this wonderful and insane dream of performing a poem at a poetry slam and once i am finished, the crowd puts down their double chai tea decaf latte no cream and gives me a standing ovation as they snap their little fingers away.)

i like a straight forward hello and goodbye. not any of that mysterious and vague texts with off-subject remarks. what's wrong with a simple "hello"? (maybe the creepy old man vibe you get when reading that word? okay, i see.)

art sometimes makes me cry. but chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven often make me cry too, so i don't know if that says a lot.

i realized my true laugh is both hideous and annoying and that just makes me laugh even more. 

and lastly, i think social media could be best and worst thing to happen to society. i don't know, just a thought.

________

in the ideal world, i would continue writing for hours, but what's that i smell? cookies in the oven? a dance party of one waiting to happen? got to go cry and laugh and consume too much chocolate and dance all at once. the heart wants what the heart wants, as they say. 

also, who is this "they" everyone refers to when trying to crack a joke? 

yours truly,

cate