A Time to be Humble...And a Time to Brag...

'Ello there buds.
'Ows it been lately? ;}
Real quickly now, I'd like to give a shout out and grand mental applause to the great mind(s?) working away at the dear old Etsy shop, Team Welser!
Thanks to their killer skills, creativity, and patience, I am now the very proud owner of this one-of-a-kind, absolutely fabulous retro style movie poster for one of my most favorite films of all time, The Fall. It was my first commissioned piece ever, which also ended up being my best buying experience to date.
Check out the action below:


{{It's ok to be a little jealous...}}

In all seriousness though, I am in awe of all of Team Welser's work. Highly recommend a visit to the shop. Can't say too many great things.

So. *wiggles eyebrows*
Until we meet again...
xo&<3

Greetings from Right Here

Hello there!
Lets cut right to the chase. I haven't been posting much lately due mainly to the fact that:

1. I am a lazy bum(and not even the fun beach kind. Just the regular old slothful type).

2. Lazy bums rarely do anything worth mentioning (but there is always a chance for that one exception...*wiggles eyebrows*...yeah, I don't know what I'm trying to hint at either).

3. My levels of "self-love" or enjoyment of the clickity-clack of the keypad just hasn't been enough lately to motivate me to pump out a page of rambling nonsense.

However, it is my sworn duty as a blogger to throw some worthless insight/photo/blurb/summary of my life at you, my dear patient audience, every two to three months.

So.
To beginning the summary.

For the past month or so I have resisted and given into temptation multiple times(multiple is such a nice holy sounding word for "lots", don't you think?).
Yes, gentle reader.
I have purchased stuff I don't really need.

While you catch your breath, I'll elaborate:
I am currently in a decorating mode. The good Lord has smiled down on me in the form of a soon to be empty space that will soon to be my empty space.
I want to dress it up.
Make it feel pretty.
Take it out and show it a good time.
And this requires money. Which I have!
But...I feel silly buying stuff for the space, when the space could do without.

The space is simple, man. It doesn't need all the possessions 'n stuff man. It's chill.
And like secondly: Feed the poor and eat more veggies. It's, like, my will for you man.
p.s
Jesus says hi.

^ The sound of my conscience. When it's feeling hippie-ish and...stuff.

Really though, this whole mess of words is just ridiculous, and I'm going to save you for wasting even more of your time by just ending it on that "breaking every code of a blogger by admitting you have nothing worth saying" note.

P.S
I think I might just post some photos of my purchases next time.
Does that tickle your fancy?
Too bad. I'm dooin' it.

P.S(squared)
Do yourself a favor and don't ever
search "bum" on the internet. Unless your search engine
is one of the few that doesn't have a gutter brain,
you're going to be mighty regretful. Resist the temptation
to test me on this. I'm trying to save everyone I can.


xo&<3

Like Bogie & Bacall...

{{insert sigh here}}

XO&<3

Cheeky love, cheeky and true...

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XO&<3

From the vault: The Invitation

Enchanting darkness...
I feel you pull me nearer, singing softly in my ear of all the beauty that lies in the shadows.
Sharing ice cold kisses, still burning on my lips, I beg for more...


Breathing in and out.
Your lovely bones connect with flesh and all is lost. For now beauty is seen and heard. Who can resist temptation so sweet and deadly?

Curling, twirling.
Lost inside this labyrinth of misconception and deceit. Don't point out the door...
...Don't show me the way out...

Purposely lost and desolate.


Well spun little spider, you've caught me in your web, lovely death.
May I be your gallows finest decoration.
Self destruction never tasted so thick and coppery before...

Invitations are answered...
Not much longer and I shall be lost fully to your sway.
Hold me close and show me all you have to offer...
Resistance died along with my soul I AM YOURS.

Kill me softly...

I've surrendered to your dance. Embraced your depredation. Accepted my end.
True love hurt much more than anything you could do to punish me, so finish me...

In this game of slit wrists no one wins.

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The inviting of darkness into our lives in a reckless act of self abandon and destruction that often follows an instance of great heartache.

Something I found I love: Super 8 film

Why is it that the world looks so much more inviting when captured on Super 8 film?
Everything and everyone is good and lovely. Silent and haunting.
Beautiful.

I would do a good deal to be given the chance to film with it for a day.

Ah, well. One more thing to add to the bucket list...
XO&<3

Gypsy for a Week

For the next 7 or odd days I will be slaking my wanderlust thirst and traveling around & abound with some of mi familia.

Photos of said trip may or may not grace this blog once it's all said and done.
It really just depends on whether or not I even take any.

{Still haven't attained the motivation needed to assume the permanent role of "Photographer" in my family/posse..rather be doing than documenting, ya know?}

Also:
Sorry for the scantness of my postings as of late.
Lately I have felt...uninspired...


Maybe a couple of freshly painted sunsets will aid in the cure of my mental stagnation...? ^-^



'Til next week!

XO&<3

I liked the world better back when...

...Twilight was just another pet name for evening.








XO&<3

Untitled End to a Parisian Affair

Sitting under a Parisian night sky painted in a cool pastel palette...
Watching the stars reflection in the mirrored water of the Seine.

Lovers coo under willowed branches, idly tossing pebbles among the fallen blossoms...
So french you could taste it on their breath.

The melancholy strum of a Spanish guitar, filling the air with scentless perfume...
A warm breeze begs to be waltzed with.

The vendor pushes his cart before him, a low hum bellows from beneath his dark mustache...
A lady's glove peeks from his pocket.

A quiet stroll to a tiny park; geraniums and poppies moonlit and weepy...
A pale gazebo in need of company.

The patter of one's footfall on the cool pavement; a mother and young child's brisk walk to their door...
Fingers run over cast iron fences, and mind over swollen remembrances.

Calls of fond farewells and closed doors fill the street ways, tones of amber fade from the panes...
The few hours left before dawn spared attention.

The weight of the brass knob in tired hands; a worn letter's removal from one's coat...
...The sigh that follows a resolution...

A kiss, a flick; the flames engulf.
A last night in Paris spent alone.

What "type" are you?

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Click here for some saturday morning fun.
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XO&<3

I've always wanted to know...

Which is worse: peanut butter in the jam jar, or jam in the peanut butter?



{p.s that disgusting and unholy "pb&j in the same jar" option is unsavory and the opposite of divine}

Suggested Monday afternoon activity...

What I learned while staring at plastic wood: A Revelation

It all started when I found myself sitting in a small wood cubicle.
It was finals week (i.e the 6th and 3/4th level of Hell) and my next exam wasn't for another hour and a half.
I was tired, I was hungry, and the interest level of my philosophy notes did not seem to be improving with repetition.

So, resting my head on my propped elbow, I stared listlessly at the faux wood grain before me, occasionally letting my eyes wander over to a fuzzy black thing in the corner(I still cannot confirm that it was a smushed spider or not). But the fun didn't stop there.
I actually found a tiny little pink sequin.
Yes, miracle of miracles, it seemed that the gods had smiled down on me.
I placed it carefully on the tip of my finger and looked at it with all the wonder and excitement of a 4 year old.

...and then quietly threw it away after receiving more than a few puzzled looks...

Drat. Back to were I started.
Now sequinless, my brain saw nothing worth staying awake for and started the count-down.
But just as my eyes began to glaze over, I noticed faint pencil markings covering the walls.
I scrutinized the scratches more intently.
Scraggly, seemingly random etches of nothingness.
It honestly looked like someone decided to declare war on the cubicle, the pencil being their weaponry of choice.
But being bored and incessantly dramatic when in such a predicament, I fancied the the faint lead lines to be likened to tally marks.
Harrowing symbols of a life lived imprisoned.
A cell.
I was sitting in a virtual cell.

I ran with that.

Who did this? Why? Were they sad? Bored? Insane?
I wonder if whoever did this thought about the countless others who would also sit here.
I wonder what others thought when they saw these marks.
Did they even notice?

My questions deepened.

I wonder...if they were given a chance to mark again...and told the number of people that would have the chance to read their mark...would those people mark?
What would they write?

I twirled my pencil in my hand and asked myself the same question.

What would I write if the whole world could read?
Or, maybe more specifically, what would my mark say?
Would it just be a tally mark: a mute and depressing indicator of existence?

Or would it be something else...

My mind went wild thinking about what I would write if this metaphorical cubicle actually existed, everyone in the world getting a chance to read it.

No puny tally marks that's for sure.
Maybe I'd write a favorite quote or Bible verse?
Maybe I'd just write my name...
No, that's not big enough. I'd have to wow them.

And as I was debating with myself as to whether or not a Three Stooges quote would be appropriate, a still and simple thought slipped into my mind:

Thought: Caitlin...
Me: ...they're actually quite philosophical if you really think about it...and who doesn't like the three stooges?...
Thought: Uh Caitlin...?
Me: Yeah still and simple Thought? What's going on?
Thought: Nothing much. I just have something insightful to share. But if you're busy...
Me: Nope. Go right ahead.
Thought: *clears throat* Caitlin, this world is a cubicle. Maybe not as shoddy as the one you're sitting in right now, but equally as soul crushing. Millions come and go each day, many without leaving any evidence they do or ever did exist. But you know what? Everyone leaves a mark Caitlin. And whether they know it or not, everyone who ever comes in contact with them will read that mark.
Me: That's cool, Thought. I am enlightened.
Thought: No Caitlin. Everyone. reads. the mark.
Me: Yeah. I get it. Cool.
Thought: Really? Cool? Well then what does your mark say?
Me ...
Thought: Exactly.

What does my mark say?
I was secretly afraid to pursue that thought.
What does the world see when they come in contact with me?
Suddenly the Bible verse idea seemed hypocritical.

But I could change it right? I haven't died yet.

What does my mark say?
More importantly, what do I want it to say?

When people see my mark, do I really want them to read about how crappy life can be?
How sometimes I feel like I'm a waste of space?
An air sucker.
Did I really want people to see bitter cynicism when they looked at my face?
Selfishness, pride, and judgment when they witness my actions?

Or do I want them to feel hope instead?
My mark a declaration of my love of life and the creator who blessed me with it.
Rather than depression, I want them to see a sober minded resolution to champion goodness.

"...everyone leaves a mark..."

What does your mark say?
What do you want it to say?

Letters to Dead People

One of those things you kind of wish had thought up first. :)
Here are a few of my favorites:















And my most farvoritist...



Click here for more Letters to Dead People

How my time is wasted...

The Start of Beautiful Obsession...

Behold the talent of Mr. Vincenzo Rizzo of Italy.
Lucky me was fortunate enough to stumble across his work via Etsy and even purchased the original (no typo) painting pictured above...and it's probably the best eighteen dollars (no typo again) I ever spent.

Make no mistake.
I will be back for more.

Oh yes. I will.^-^

Every time I watch The Sound of Music...

...I fall in love...



*sigh*
Enjoy the awesomeness.
ttfn

Kids these days!

If you're anything like me, this recent generation of people/consumers has got you biting your nails. Do they care about anything even remotely important?
I mean, what -is- it with them?

We'll have to cover that later. There's just not enough time here.

Anyhow, DK Publishing recently played into that mounting fear.
That fear of the youngsters, and the belief that as soon as they are in control, there will be a total disregard for all those things which most of us believe are important (things such as art, literature, trees, belts, auto tune-less songs...the list is long) .

And in the specific case of DK Publishing, books are something they can reasonably fear might one day be labeled "out of style" by this new and confusing breed of buyers/humanoids.

So to ease the minds of their company and now others like myself, they've presented this clever little promo video; a little "everything-is-going-to-be-ok" medicine for the soul in these trying times (Miley Cyrus is now giving singing advice. I'll let that sink in, as we all sink a little lower).




Well played DK, well played indeed...

When Beauty fights The Beast

Yes...



Yes. Yes. Yes.



I would so jump into a ring with a bull if it justified me wearing those awesome pants.



And a sword too?! Sign me up; I have found my calling.

The amazing lady in the pictures is a Mari Paz Vega. A recent POV documentary was filmed on her and Eva Florencia's careers as female matadors.
You can check out the trailer for the documentary, "Ella Es el Matador", here.

30 Days without Facebook: What I learned

Let me break it down:

30 days ago I decided to take a chance and basically commit social suicide.
Yes.
I logged off Facebook...and stayed off...for 30 whole days.

The reason: Facebook had been getting on my nerves.
And by "Facebook", I mean the people on Facebook.
And by "getting on my nerves", I mean driving me up a flippin' wall.

Look. I friended these people. I know it's partially my fault.
But when it comes down to it, it wasn't really the people themselves that was grating on me.
It was their "Facebook alter ego". The super condensed and mostly fictional version of themselves they choose to parade all over the Internet.

But that's not even the reason I got off.

The reason I took a breather from the whole situation is because I was beginning to play the same game.

Social Networking is basically my type of person's ideal social set-up (remember that whole INTJ post? Yeah, we don't like social interaction much).

1. You get to choose who you want to interact with.
2. You don't actually have to interact with people.
3. There is an ignore button.
4. You decide when and how you want to say something.
5. There is an ignore button (are you getting this?!).

Online interaction is quick, efficient, and completely fake.
And when I began to measure the value of my day by how many people "liked" my status, that was it.

Log off, shut down, stash away.

The first few days were interesting.
It seems I had so conditioned myself that as soon as I was on the Internet, my first knee-jerk reaction was to click the Facebook tab.

How pathetic, I sneered to myself. I shall make a model of self-discipline out of you yet, weakling...
(actual conversation between myself and I was slightly less epic and demeaning)

And I admit it. The glory to be gleaned from self-denial and discipline was part of the draw.
What can I say, I'm a weirdo. I like testing myself.
I like to know my limits, and occasionally go the next step.

But before I sound grander than I actually am, the majority of these test included:
Trying not to fly into a mad stomping fest when a huge bug threw itself in my vicinity, not showing any sign of pain when I pour rubbing alcohol on my occasional cut, and seeing how long I can go with out "going".

Kid stuff.
But this was the real test. The big trial. The tribulation the Bible foretold!
Except...it wasn't...
At all.

After I got over the initial change of not logging on every time life began to lull, I began to see just how much I missed.
I'm not trying to make this sappy and all moral-y, but this is just what I found.

I didn't miss anything those 30 days. My friends that live nearby found other ways to communicate (remember talking on the phone, or even stopping in for a visit?).
My other friends that live far away just called or did without.

And no, I do not "do" Farmville (or any other game that promotes narcotic behavior).
So no, I wasn't having to endure fitful nights over the fact that 'ole Betsy hadn't been milked or the chickens had probably been eaten by the yeti, or whatever it is that happens to your (totally non-existent and completely fictional) farm after 24 hours of not slaving--I mean playing.

The point is, I no longer needed (or felt that I needed) a website to be "connected".
If people want me, they'll find me. That is my motto.
That and "Chuck E Cheese is a thug" (four hundred tokens and all I can get is a a Tootsie roll?Are you insane?!).

In the end though, it's not Facebook I've learned to do without.
It's my need for it.

I'm back on for now.
I still have a few friends and situations that would benefit from my having that method of conversation available.
But it's definitely not the same.

In my grandest of dreams, I hope this whole "online connections" deal will just go away, and the days of the written letter will be resurrected.
Remember those? No, not junk mail. Actual hand written notes from people you know?
It's been that long, huh?

And yet we cheat ourselves.
Preferring little red flags & smileys, over pretty stamps & scribbles.

30 days without Facebook and what did I learn?
To value what is necessary, and forgo what is just plain stupid.



And I think you know what I'm talking about...
...Farmville addicts...

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Non-Human Characters That Stole My Heart

So I borrowed this idea from a post I saw recently on a fellow beings blog.
In my defense, the owner of said blog had borrowed the idea from someone else.
This gift just keeps on giving.
Don't you just love recycling? ^-^


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#10. Robin Hood


As obvious as the cuteness factor is, let me further elaborate.
He has one of the cutest accents of all the Disney classics.
He's the nicest bad boy in history (gentleman outlaw? yesss).
He is fond of dress up and is a regular master of disguise.
He's The gosh-darn Robin Hood.


Plus he's sensitive and stuff. Girls like sensitive stuff.


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#9. The Penguins of Madagascar (aka Private, Kowalski, Rico, and Skipper)




Every time one of these guys open their mouth, I prepare myself for a giggle. Equal part deadly and ridiculous; they're mysterious, classy, and super fly. What's not to love? If they were human, they'd be Double-O status for sure. And speaking of being human...


Not bad boys. Not bad at all...


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#8. Stitch


The cutest little alien since I don't know when, Stitch is that mischievous little kid you wished would love and adore you but for some reason continues to put glue in your hair. Stitch and his evilness are especially endearing to us females because he plays into that old "love him and he will be good!" path of reasoning. There is a lot of messy Psychology involved. Just know that basically we love him -because- he's bad.


And this. This is also why we love him.


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#7. Mo


One of the more recent additions to the animated world, Mo is the dear neat-freak of the Wall*E world. He's dedicated, motivated, has attitude, and is so serious it's precious. Plus he's like a foot and a half tall. And as you should know by now, anything under 3ft is fair fodder for female affection.


Go ahead. It's ok to "awww"...


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#6. Shere Khan


I knew Shere Khan was sexy way before I knew what sexy was.
Yeah he's a villain. Yeah he tried to kill a little orphan boy. So what if he a little skittish around the campfire: He's Shere Khan.
He's freakin' magical guys...
50% of his power is his claws, and the other 50% is in his voice (thank you George Sanders!).


Making snake throttling look like a parlor game since 1967...


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#5. Bugs Bunny


This really is a no brainer. Mr. Bunny has been making people laugh since 1940 and the only heart-throb on the list to have his very own star on The Walk of Fame.
Why all the hub bub? He's versatile. He can do it all and all while managing to be the coolest, funniest, and most non-boring rabbit in the known history of the world. Eat your heart out Peter Cottontail.


His powers are multiplied when in drag.


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#4. Prince John


I've always found this "bad guy" to be rather endearing due to his harmless and pitiful nature. He's just a sad little momma's boy who throws temper tantrums and sucks on his thumb when things don't going his way. This is what happens when you have an absentee older brother.


Meant to be loved and ridiculed in turn.


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#3. Wall*E


Ohmygoshit'sWall*E!!!Ifreakinglovehimandhowcouldhe-not-beonthislist!!!
Fact: There is more female love for that little robot than all the teenage rage/love of Twilight, the Jonas Brothers, and pixie sticks combined.
As it rightly should be.


Half of you just nearly died from sheer cuteness.


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#2. Bagheera


Bagheera is as classy as he is perplexing. Why does a full grown (potentially man-eating) bachelor panther risk life and limb to care for, and then ultimately lose, a tiny little booger if a "man cub"?


We may never know, but his Mr. Mom mentality and general sweetness wins over my heart every time.


Glowing eyes of a Demon + the Heart of a Saint.


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#1. Basil of Baker Street


Yes, it's all true. The Great Mouse Detective is my all time biggest non-human crush.
He's stuffy, unaffectionate, neurotic, borderline insane, a closet narcissist and absolutely delightful. He also just happens to be the most interesting animated character of any kid movie yet (Sherlock connection just coincidence? I think not...).


(...also comes in emo...)

Mr. Basil is genius, unstable, dramatic, dashing, thrilling, formal, and hilariously somber in turn.
In fact, this guy is so danged magnetic, people actually feel bad for liking (*cough* obsessing over) this charming fictional mouse.


(...the face of pure and lustful obsession...)

To me, he'll always be that funny man/mouse who made me laugh, sigh, gasp and cheer...and totally should have ended up with Olivia Flaversham despite the near 30 year gap.


I still dream of a sequel... ;D


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Honorable Mentions (in no particular order):

Pink Panther


Sonic

King Julian

Bartok

Buzz & Woody

Carpet

Mufasa