Monthly Archives: January 2010

Spring cleaning

Sometimes you just have too many things lying around.

Things you don’t need anymore.

Things you should really just get rid of.

So, even though it is clearly not quite spring, I am ridding myself (and this blog) of the excess. This is not meant to be a petty or dramatic move. It is not meant to symbolize anything. In fact, it is incredibly boring and probably doesn’t serve much of a purpose at all. My time would, in all honesty, be much better spent going through my piles of clothes and deciding which of them to get rid of! But, such is life. And also I am very tired. So… goodnight!

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Amazing

Ha! Someone found this blog by typing in “Slutty Confessions”… just had to share that!

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Update

Took a bath and cleared my head. Feel much better now. Thank God.

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Here Comes Your Man

I have had this song stuck in my head for about 7 days now. I don’t mind really, because it just happens to be one of my favorites. But it can be a bit depressing.  Released by the Pixies in 1989 (And later covered by Meaghan Smith, which coincidentally is the version that’s stuck in my head), the song sounds like a feel-good love song about the return of a lover. However, as a rather unfortunate viewing of a comment made on songmeanings.net has taught me to believe, the song is actually about devastation. Or, more specifically, about the 1945 atomic bombing of Nagasaki.

Combine this knowledge with the fact that my nervous/digestive system has been off since last week, the weather outside is dismal and gray,  I am not completely satisfied with the state of my life, and I have just been watching Skins – and you get my current internal psyche. Sad, confused, with a propensity for staying in bed much longer than is strictly necessary. Oh, and I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t like someone whom I so clearly do. But you knew that already.

Honestly, I feel like there are about ten dementors at my door. And I keep opening it. Why?

Next week, there will be school. Which means something new to focus on. It also means hanging out with people who are not quite so moody as I am. Which is good. Because at the moment, nothing makes sense. Clearly, I need to stop thinking about things that are beyond my control. Clearly, I need to stop thinking about this song.

But I can’t help it, it’s stuck. And I honestly don’t mind it.

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Tell me… what would you like me to do?

OK, So… after long and careful consideration (who am I kidding?) I have decided to ask you all for a little favor. Which you absolutely do not have to grant. But if you don’t that means no more sluttiness.

I think I may have gotten ahead of myself.

The favor is simply this, if you are among the somewhat ambiguous group who actually enjoy Slutty Sundays, you must at this time get just a little bit involved. I am not asking for pictures (please god, no pictures!) or guest posts (although…), what I want is for you to contribute options.

In the comment box, you must give me one of three things:

1. A celebrity to put into the scenario

2. An interesting location (Or any location really. On second thought- No! I demand that you be interesting! Or not.)

3. A scenario (Pour example: I have just woken up after a night of drunken debauchery to find that I am in the same bed as Adrien Brody. Only you can’t use that one. Because I have already done it.)

Or, you can simply tell me to, for God’s sake, stop the madness! And I will discontinue Slutty Sundays for good. Possibly.

Go ahead… tell me. I promise not to laugh.

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Tumblr.

MerlinsEars.tumblr.com

Do it.

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Something to Stare At

You know how certain things can mean something to you, even if you don’t know why? Certain images, sounds, smells can take you somewhere you never meant to go. Somewhere familiar… and old. Somewhere that is, for some reason, important. One of these things can, it turns out, be a word.

I was reading over past blogs (who knows why, really) and I came upon a sentence bearing the word “Cairo.” For some reason or another, I couldn’t get past it. I just kept staring. Why was Cairo so important? What was it that I was trying to remember? A specific memory? An impression? What?

What is it about Cairo that I am forgetting? And why can’t I stop staring?

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