I have a lot of habit. I suppose I even have some habits that would be considered “bad habits.” But I’m completely content with all these little antics. Behaviors like biting my nails don’t bother me at all. In fact, I MUCH prefer biting my nails over using finger nail clippers. I hate the sound, and I hate the feeling of getting my finger nails clipped. I don’t know why.
“Day 4-A habit that you wish you didn't have”
I’m going to stretch this post topic a bit. Rather than dealing with a habit I don’t like, I’m going to talk about something I do that I really should be able to control. I guess maybe that is a habit. Maybe not.
In a lot of situations, I wish I could control the tone of my voice better. With a lot of what I say, the way I say it means a lot more than the words that are actually said.
I’m sarcastic. I’m hilarious. I’m hilarious because of my sarcasm. But a lot of times, I’ll use my sarcastic tone when saying something serious, and this has caused a lot of tension in some conversations. My tone makes me sound like I’m disregarding the meaning, when really, I’m just saying a word or sentence in a way that it shouldn’t be said.
The best example I can think of to illustrate the importance of voice tone is the word, “okay.”
“Oooooookay…” said Jessica Grimaud (This means you just said something awkward, and she feels embarrassed for you).
“Oh, okay.” said Michael House (He says this quickly. It means you’re being sarcastic or joking, and he’s writing it off as just that).
“Okayyy” said Logan Meyers (This means you just asked me to do something, and I made it sound like I complied with your request, but I’m not really going to do a thing).
Important stuff.
Well, I’m off to my first day of work at my new job. I’ll try my best to control my tone. But, I can guarantee that more than half my conversations will be at least moderately sarcastic.
The reason I bring this up is because day three’s topic is “a picture of you and your friends,” And there is not a picture in existence that includes me and all of my friends. So, I think I’ll just post multiple pictures. Here we go:
“Day 3- A picture of you and your friends”
One blog down. They only get worse from here, so don’t get too excited.
“Day 2-The meaning behind your Blog name”
My blog name is omylands because ohmylands was taken.
Is that good enough?
No?
Okay.
Well, when I first had the idea of creating a blog, I had no idea what I wanted to write about. Shortly after having this writer's block, me and my girlfriend at the time “called it quits.” I suddenly had something to write about. Something that shouldn’t be shared on the internet. So, I thought, “I’ll just create a secret blog!”
Essentially, I wanted a blog name that had minimal ties to me, but very indirectly. I wanted to make it so that if a friend stumbled upon this site, they could use the clues to figure out that it was me, but not be able to prove it.
“Oh my lands” is a phrase that I adopted during my sophomore year at
After about five posts in this secret blogging realm, I got sick of writing for no one but myself, so I deleted the personal posts, and posted my URL on Facebook.
Lately I’ve wanted to write very badly. The problem is that everything I want to blog about is either too personal for the internet, or things that people just don’t care about. So, I guess I’ll do it, at least until I get sick of it.
“Day 1- Recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself”
I don’t take many pictures these days, and I’m in even less. I don’t know why that is.
This picture was taken I few weeks ago at Lagoon. It was a great day. I even ate an Oreo, and I don’t even like Oreos.
Now. The 15 interesting facts about me. Huh? Looking over the list of future blogs for these next thirty days, it looks like it’s going to be hard to not mention things now that will be mentioned in later blogs. I’ll try:
How’s that? Good enough? That’s what I though.
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with one leg perched; the other, semi-crossed with my ankle resting on my knee. Does my body really hate sleep this much? Even during the silent hours of the early morning, my legs must desperately attempt to wake me up? I just doesn’t make any sense. Sleep means sleeping.
Living in a
I feel completely uninspired, and I don’t even know what that means. Although I’m happy everyday, everyday has the same routine, the same location, and the same meaning. I suppose this isn’t a bad thing; there should be meaning to each day. But where’s the spontaneity? When I wake up comfortably around 9:30am or 10:00am, I know exactly how the day will play out. The cerebral security is almost unfortunate.
Because of these habitual days, I try to make it a point to get lost during the evening. The other day, I wandered the neighboring roads on foot for a couple hours of the night. I’ve never taken refuge in wandering, but in a new town it’s almost exhilarating. While walking down roads I’ve never been on and seeing houses and businesses I’ve never seen, I feel as if I’m becoming acquainted with my own life. It’s fine.
I want so badly to make good friends. Because of the small, tight-knit group of friends that was created while I was attending
The thing that I think bugs me about
I’ll continue my endeavor to meet interesting people. I won’t give up after a few short months this time. Look at me finally trying to “be bold.”
Now, despite the peculiar timbre of this area, I do kind of enjoy it here. Things are so mellow. I live with one of my best friends, and it’s been easy for me to be passionate about school. Also, I seem to be losing weight, which seems to be the neo-American Dream. I’m happy to, at least, be happy most of the day.
