LIFE: the musical.

I have a tendency of turning sentences into song. Generally incredibly off key Opera pieces about how much I love peanut butter on my toast or vanilla creamer in my coffee.

But then there are those songs that come on and suddenly you are having an out of body experience watching yourself have this dramatic moment punctuated by these lyrics that fit the mood and timing perfectly. Bam. Life is a suddenly a musical and its your cameo moment. Do you sing like your life depends on it? Or come back to yourself and ignore the epicness that just happened? Maybe that feeling is just my own little version of crazy.

While growing up in a home with an alcoholic stepdad, a mom that just wouldn't leave him, two older siblings who both battle(d) drug addictions, and a dad that just didn't get how to be a dad, my song was "Wonderful" by Everclear. By no means was my childhood the worst it could be, but at the time it sure felt like it.

Of course the song that relates to your life evolves as you do. Pretty sure at one point when I went through my cowboy and horse phase it was "Rodeo" by Garth Brooks. The romance of being a buckle bunny was blown way out of proportion in my head I think. And of course any romantic song that talks about true love and two people finding each other was entrenched firmly in my dreams. When I had a long term crush on a guy named Steve, T-Swift helped me get by with her song "Hey Stephen".  Talk about perfect fit.

Yeah. He turned out to be a little bit nutty.

Right now? Life is a little mixture of "Mine" by Taylor Swift when I feel like I am too messed up to form a lasting relationship and a large mixture of my current power song: "Defying Gravity" by Ms. Elphaba in Wicked. But mostly the latter.

Well. I feel a solo coming on and things are about to get a bit.... Wicked.

Key To Life #4439: Make stupid jokes that make you laugh and feel clever. Thats how you stay sane.

TWILIGHT changed my life.

Due to the nature of the title, I found this fitting.  

Well. Not really. But it did get me thinking.

So there I was, watching with bated breathe the last installment of the Twilight Saga. I laughed. I cried (well. I stubbed my toe during a bathroom break and my eyes sorta welled up with tears). I got angry. But most of all, I got to pondering something.

I have roughly 80 or so years of life. 18 of those daunting, awkward years are spent developing both physically and mentally (or so they say) and then I am suppose to

1. go to some sort of school to further my education so I can someday be able to afford vacations after retirement
2.  find a man to treat me right and donate a little swimmer to backstroke into my uterus so I can grow a large parasite with in me that will then become a larger parasite (only outside the body) and demand things for the rest of his/her life.
3.  a combination of both. In whatever order.

Now, don't get me wrong. There is always:

4. live with my parents and do the whole online dating thing where I can photoshop myself to have bikini body (but wait! I went to school to learn photoshop.. so in this example I must have pirated a version off the Internet and taught myself) and pretend my name is Betty Boobies.

However, that option is depressing.

But what if I had a lifetime and beyond? What would I do? Would I try and make as much money as possible? Would I try and save the world?

Forever to do whatever it is you want to do. You could get a lot done.

Unfortunately, REALITY CHECK!!!: I obviously don't have forever. I don't have that option. So what can I do for the next 67 years of life? That is about 3.524e+7 minutes. 587309 hours. 24471.2 days. 3495.89 weeks and 804 months of life left. That's not factoring in cancer, heart disease, getting hit by lightening. That sort of stuff.

I guess I get that job that allows me to be an intern at a theatre. I set the goal that in roughly a year, I am going to backpack Europe. I volunteer/work at a renaissance fair. I continue my welding lessons. I paint again. I fall in love. Maybe have two point five parasites of my own and a little parasite house with a wrap around porch and a dog named... Perry. Maybe I make a difference in one persons life.

When I graduated college, I thought I had to have my life figured out. I thought that I had to grow up and start making adult decisions. I still have this idea that if I don't start making the big bucks and settle down, it will make me less of a person. But screw that. If I want to take a summer and go get me some culture, I am going to do it. If I want to volunteer in a distant land and save baby sea turtles, my bank account may starve but my soul will be filled.

Life sometimes has a giant foot that tends to like to kick you in the ass and knock you down. But I suppose you never learn to appreciate the stars unless you are on the ground, flat on your back, and looking up at the sky.

P.S. I love kids. I find them incredibly entertaining and cute.

NORMAL: Conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.

So you might be wondering about the name. Heck. Even I am wondering about the name. But it has a cute story behind it. Skip down the page to #7 if you don't want to read about how I got there.

I will preface this by asking the following: What is normal REALLY? I feel that as a society as a whole, we strive for normalacy. That "normal-ness" is what defines us, is it not? Growing up, most strive to NOT be: a geek, nerd, dramatic, an intellectual, goth, punk, metro-sexual, hippie, granola, hipster, ect. The list goes on and on. We are told that in order to not be bullied or belittled, we either have to be the shining star of the football team (an analogy.. not a truth) or be "normal" enough that we just fly under the radar. But who's radar do we fly under and who are we hurting in the end? Ourselves.

They say the whole idea of "finding yourself" is bogus. But I believe it to be true. I have reinvented myself for sure (I hope). The girl I left behind in Montana was all right. She was nice and didn't take risks. She was just beginning to realize that there is more out there.

The girl I found in Portland? She goes to town on Goodwill stores with the Ugly Betty Philosophy: Don't knock it till you try it on and the weirdest shit is the best. She wears gaudy costume earrings. She fo-hawked her hair the other day.. something that NEVER would have occurred in Montana. She drives around Portland in a murdered out Subaru... and feels like a badass doing it. She goes drinking with friends. She wants to rescue sea turtles and not use her degree. She doesn't have a plan because she is letting life happen. Strange? Yes. But not really.

But the biggest and weirdest thing that has happened? I have owned up to a few things (not a complete list):

1. I don't like getting drunk. Tipsy? Fine. Drunk? No. 
2. I may never be the type of girl who can do random hookups: be it sex or making out. 
3. I am not a size 0. Or a size 10. Could I be? Yes. Do I use that number to judge my self-worth and whether I deserve the respect of myself and others? Oh hells no. 
4. I want to go to a Transvestite bar/show. Plain and simple.
5. I love musical theatre. If life was a musical... 
6. I love being dramatic. Not a drama queen, but if I have the chance to quote Shakespeare and talk with an accent, I will. All the time if possible.

7. I want to LARP at least once. Maybe multiple times.

LARPing is Live Action Role Play. Go to youtube and search "Lightening bolt larp" and there you go.

I told my friends C.V. and L.M. about this. And they made a fake craigslist ad that said this:

So the joke was born. However, when I look at this picture, I think Thor. So I think I might be on to something. Not weird at all.... right?

Who are (am) you (I)... Really(?)?

Hello all.

My name is Mifkhafkah Makdfaksdfj but I suppose I can be referred to as Murdah. Keeps things simple and personal-ish as yes, that is a true nickname, but does not put my super personal shtuff out there. Not that you couldn't figure it out if you really wanted it. Privacy really is just a word and a thing of the past.

Anyways. I can't say this is the first blog I have started and will most likely not remember (it's the second, for I am not a serial blog neglector. That would be a complete waste of energy, something that I don't like to do). However, it is my attempt to document a major life decision that I made. More for myself and my entertainment. Less for yours. Sorry.

Moving on. Or back I suppose. Here is a little about muah.

The (not so) quick version is this: I started out going to college with a big white Chrysler LHS (aptly named Moby Dick) all packed up with my belongings and a horse in a horse trailer being pulled by my momma. All of this heading to College. Along the way of the five years of growing up and graduating, I work work worked. I met people, lost people, switched majors (Business to Art.  Weird, I know), sold the horse, cut the hair (Yes. I am one of those that sports the short do), went to Italy for a semester, switched the cowboy boots in for chacos, smoked some pot (key word= some), drank some beer (I am a glutard) and got a '85 subaru station wagon that taught me all about driving a manual and the importance of humility. Trying to appear attractive to men in a rust wagon with one speaker and the distinct smell of doghorseoldladysomethingdiedinagymsock was difficult. However, the beast was free and served me well for 3 years. RIP Sube.

Then, in 2012 I graduated.  I would say I had grown as a person exponentially and became a (fairly) confident, (sorta) funny, (yum) chocolate addicted, (minus 3 days a month) happy-go-lucky, (truth) weird person. I had worked for a theatre. Found my people. Realized that at least one dream of mine (besides saving sea turtles) is to create. Not like "throw paint on a canvas and call it art" kind of create, but I am talking BAM! I have officially helped make the world that you will be immersed in for the next 2 hours as you watch this beautiful performance unfold in front of your eyeballs.

Because I knew that where I was from could not give me what I needed, I moved! Montana to Portland(ish), Oregon. It was a culture shock. But amazing. It helped that I had some friends here already. Here, I can let my freak flag fly. I like it.

I suppose that is it for now. Kind of abrupt, I know. But I don't feel like typing more. I figure blogging is like exercising: if you wear yourself out, you are just going to skip it next time and reach for the nearest thing of Nutella. Which is upstairs right NOW. And I am dieting (ha).