No Known Cure.

...Ladies.... Gentle-Germs.... ...Stalkers... Loyal Fans.... First Time Readers....

I am suffering from something, and there is no known cure... It's called "Build a Clock Syndrome" Or BACS as it's used in the medical world.

I was first diagnosed with it at the tender age of 13. By my Grandmother. Although, I'm sure I showed signs much before then.

Here's what it is.

It starts with a thought, an idea if you will, and before you know it, it's been 15 minutes, in some cases... longer.

Need more explanation?

alright. People who suffer from BACS (Build a Clock Syndrome) Suffer from nothing more than a nasty habit.

Ask me "What time is it?" And I'll tell you how to build a clock.

I Basically just really like to tell stories. And... I feel like you need the WHOLE story.

Need Examples? ...Read my blog... Or talk to me for an hour.

Hats.

I have this hat... It's a hat from the late 80's.

It was my grandfathers. . .

Till one day when I was a Jr. in high schoo

l I decided it would be a good idea to bleach my own hair.

Needless to say that didn't turn out well.

Not only did it turn out that my hair looked awful...

that night in a frantic desperate hunt I realized something awful:

I, Hillary Ivie, did not own a single hat.

While it's true, I owned some of the greatest Bennie's you could possibly think of,

I didn't own a single normal hat.

I had never had a bad hair day to the point I needed to cover it up with something.

Let alone a logo'd, off color'd, brimed, thing that made my head hot.

But I needed one that day.

So.

My grandpa gave me one of his old ones.

And to sum up this (back round) story, I love this hat.

I now also own three other hats.

Alright.

ONTO WHY I'M WRITING

A few nights ago I was watching a movie and laughing much harder whenever one character spoke, compared to the others.

Why was that, I wondered.

Why was this character so much funnier,

than the other characters who were cracking just as many jokes.

Then I realized...

he was wearing a hat.

And how not only was HE wearing a hat...

But some of my most favorite characters...

wear hats...

fantastic hats at that.

Even Villains need a good hat

So other than the villain thing, I'm pretty sure due to my exposure of needing a hat to hide a desperately horrid hair do, and how hilarious I thought that situation was in the moment... I believe I'm conditioned to think that:

Hats=Slightly funnier than everyone else.

Because I mean really... if they got so desperate to the point of wearing THAT HAT.... think about how bad what is under that hat is...

That Does Sound Fantastic... and Weird

Last night was the BEST night I've had in an incredibly long time.

It started out terribly.

Here's how my May 27th went.

Work isn't important to this story.

Came home from work around 3:45 pm.

Tried to take a nap.

The neighbor kids were SCREAMING.

Couldn't sleep.

Lied there annoyed beyond belief.

Finally got up.

Ate a half can of peas.

Got excited for summer...

... fresh peas from the garden.

Ended up at the gym.

Ran for an hour.

Then did weights for an hour.

All while watching 16 and Pregnant.

While walking home from the gym,

Made a phone call.

While on the phone, became overly

Frustrated... Annoyed... Scared... Fed-up... Over Whelmed.

Bailed on my original plans. Sorry.

Sat on my bed Looked in the mirror and stressed about life altering choices.

Then... I decided to have a me night. Not a night of self-indulgence.

But simply a night to calm down.

So me nights actually take alot thought

And... have very strict rules.

(Here is where my night becomes good)

Rule #1 You have to feel pretty. For me this is always Freshly washed face Freshly brushed teeth Well nourished hair and.... cute underwear.

In order to accomplish this... I spend an hour and a half soaking

Not just any kind of bath...

All Lights off.

These instead.

Rule #2 Music Must be Played.

Not just any music though. The Apple Ipod Shuffle option... Is not an option.

Create a playlist.

Fit the mood exactly.

Delicate: Damien Rice

Cold Water: Damien Rice

Accidental Babies: Damien Rice

Wild Horses: Natasha Bedingfield

Amie: Damien Rice

Miserable At Best: Mayday Parade

The Conversation: Motion City Soundtrack

Just Another Old Love Song: Joe Purdy

Pigeon: Jump Little Children

Grey Room: Damien Rice

Don't Call Me Peanut: Bayside

Lullaby: Billy Joel

Little Black Heart: The Early November

Fire and Rain: James Taylor

More Than We Could Chew: Joel Pack

Burn: Ray Lamontagne

Jolene: Ray Lamontagne

Rule #3 Surround with Favorites.

Used favorite shampoo.

Used favorite tooth paste.

Wore favorite sweat pants.

and... underwear

Went to favorite convenient store (7-Eleven)

bought favorite treats:

&

Rule #4 Sleep

Sleep Like you do at the end of yoga.

Breathing.

Eye lids s.l.o.w.l.y. getting heavier.

Rule #5 Think. Constantly.

This... Will be it's own post.

Later.

Instrumental.

I'm not a normal person, and so this is all very fitting.

Music is one of the MOST important things in my life.

It's what I spend most of my "extra" money on, It's how I relate to most other humans,

It's the one thing I honestly feel I could NEVER live without.

This past week I was thinking about it,

about how much I love music,

how much power it has over me. While all types of music get to me-

There are a few instruments that seem to...

tug at my heart strings a little harder than others,

Instruments that as soon as I hear them in a song,

I almost instantly like the song...

to SOME degree.

Here they are... in order:

THE ACCORDION THE BANJO

THE ACOUSTIC GUITAR THE SOLO PIANO THE "OPENING "CHELLO

There are so many more that aren't being mentioned. Like the harmonica in a song that has a deep throated blues singer. Or the Marimba that puts a positive spin on anything. Or the Violin, which can accompany anyone, in any style of music, and create any kind of mood. Anyway(s), Those... are my top five favorite instraments. Hope you enjoy!

Quiet.

I've always kind of been a mouthy-sassy-little-spit-fire, with strong opinions and a lot to say about EVERYTHING. I had the words to sooth a friend in distress, I had the words to win any argument, and the words to fill any silence.

Basically... talking has never been a problem for me.

.... Until now...

For the past (almost) 10 months I've had people describe me as contemplative, thoughtful, and even quiet. I've lost friends because quite honestly... we have nothing to talk about. And I'm losing "new" people because... we just have nothing to say. I feel like I'm losing my ability to communicate.

No... not even that. Because when I have something to say... I can still say it. I have just lost my desire to say things.

When I lost my Mom, so many people had so many things to say, and while every one's intentions were wonderful, sweet, and good, I finally realized how little words meant. How many words I heard a day and how hardly any of them brought any sort of comfort. How I got so tired of hearing how I should grieve, but how I couldn't get enough of the few who would listen to how I was/am grieving.

So I guess I've become a listener. Which feels weird and out of place for me. But that's how I've been acting, and how I feel most comfortable.

I've also gotten into soaking up the silence. . . (which I don't think most people like, and take as a bad sign for friendships, like we've run out of things to say). For example(s):

My Grandfather, as most of you know, is a huge part of my life and I love and adore him to pieces. My absolute FAVORITE thing to do lately is sit on the couch next to him, hold his hand, and lay my head on his shoulder. . . saying absolutely NOTHING. We can sit there for 10, 15, 25 minutes without saying a word. . . and I couldn't be happier. My Grandmother... same thing basically. I could just stand there and hug her for hours if she'd let me. I love wrapping my arms around her neck and resting my chin on my shoulder.

So I don't know what to do really. While I feel like I'm losing all these people because I have nothing to say, and I'm just not that interesting anymore, I'm quiet because I'm soaking up every second I can. Because words mean so little (outside of kind, heartfelt, thoughtful reminders of love). And lets be honest here... I don't have a whole lot on my mind anymore outside of about 5 things.

I guess... More to come on this later?

(I also don't talk, email, write, or blog as much as I used to because most thoughts feel so.... unfinished. resolution.... non-existent right now)