ok guys, are you sitting down? Of course you are because who stands at the computer-- thats just non-sense. Ok... (deep breath) guess what guys? I'm Pregnant.

NO! That's not true, I' m totally joshin' you. But did you freak out when you heard that news? Well, I do have something really important to tell you...

I'm marrying one of my little czech boyfriends so that they can get their green card and live in the United States.

Nah, thats not true either. But if it were, that's how i would tell my mother. Don't you guys feel special?

Tell you more about it later... toodles ;)

AHHHHH!

What the F...

LITTLE TIP FOR STUPID BOYS: DO NOT

Lead me on, Tell me you love my best friend, cry that i say "fine, F you," spend the entire summer wooing her, then try to call me THE NIGHT SHE LEAVES TOWN to "talk."

THAT'S SOME CRAP.

All summer, Mr. Future Millionaire gave up THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD (AHEM) for, and I quote Cara, a "horse-faced frumpmyster." THE NIGHT SHE LEAVES THE BEST MESSAGE YOU CAN COME UP WITH IS "HEY L- CALL ME IF YOU WANNA TALK?" HELL NO I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!!! IN FACT, I WANTED TO LEAVE THE MOMENT I SAW YOU WALK INTO MY COFFEE HOUSE WITH THAT MAN STEALIN SO-AND-SO, BUT I DIDN'T. I SMILED, I MADE AS NICE AS I COULD. In fact, I'd like to think myself DAMN NEAR CIVIL this whole time.

RUB MY FACE IN IT WHY DONCHA?

I just finished visiting Thornfield Hall and The Morr House with my dearest and most faithful friend, Jane Eyre. I love reading classic novels. Everytime I read Jane Eyre, I can see Mr. Rochester, I can smell the sulphur from the burned down ruins of the great Thronfield Hall, I can feel the pangs of hunger when Jane wanders around England Moorlands for three days with no food, I collapse with exhaustion with her in front of St. Johns house, I watch Helen Burns slip peacefully away in my arms. Classic novels draw me in. They don't just thell me a story, they make me Jane. They make me the prisoner in "the Penetentury." They make me the unnerving beauty to The Great Gatsby. They change the way I see Mr. Darcy. Classic novels to me are movies of the mind, not just words on a page.

Just thought I would chare that with you. If you've never felt this way about a book here are some great books to get lost in:

The Horse and His Boy, A novel in The Chronicles Of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
The Penetentury, A Short story by Franz Kafka
The Little Prince, A novella by Antione De Saint Exupery
Jane Eyre, A Novel by Charlotte Bronte (Currer Bell)
Don Quixote, A novel by Miguel De Cervantes

Dear Mr. Not so Religious:

Thanks :)

Eat that you haters.

Seriously enought though, thanks a lot. I love getting comments, and i adore ones that are a bit more than "yeah so and so is a real jerk" Or "Oh my gosh i never would have thought", ect. In the deepest recesses of my heart, what some might call their soul, I desire nothing more than to be a writer, poor in pocket but rich in spirit, with a currency of words; the human souls only trade. But to be completely honest, I have all of 4 readers and I am well aware that the are all my close friends who merely delight in that fact that i poetically represent everyday events while utilizing my SAT list which, ironically, I refused to do in High school as a form of not-so-silent protest against my crazy, mua-mua wearing english teacher. I think that as far as paid journalism or novels that last a lifetime, their is only room for a few Kevin Cowherds and even fewer Charlotte Bronte's in this world. Though your compliment is sweet and uplifting, I highly doubt any editor would well recieve this pitch for a novel:

"Well, see, it's about a young girl with a quick wit and slow heart who comes upon many snafus and loves word like "Conjecture" and "obsiqious", "Counterintuitive" and "Quadratist." Plot?! Who needs plot, she's adorable and ditzy!"

Thanks anyways, and stay tuned, there's plenty more blog coming your way :)

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.
Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.
Chorus:This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.
This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred NUMB our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.
(Chorus)This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

This entry is all about PRAYER REQUESTS.

A good friend of mine (Jen) has a sister in law who has struggled for some time now to get pregnant. She finally, with the help of invetro fertilization, is pregnant with triplets. She is about 22 weeks along and saturday night she went into labor. One of her babies was born and subsiquently died from prematurity. Please pray for her that not only her other two children should be healthy and to term, but that the sorrow of losing a baby not hold her back from the joy of being a mother. And please pray for Jen, as this is the third child in three years that she has seen this happen to, one her own, another her best friends.

The prayer request, gentle reader, for my aunt continues. I know she is well contented in the notion that whatever God deems to be the proper time, she will obey, but please pray that she not suffer and that the devil not make her feel any sorrow or shame in the fact that she is dying to us and gaining ever lasting life.

And a finally praryer request for my mother. I don't know what for, but I am sure she'll need it eventually.

Let me know if you need any prayers, I am always happy to oblige.

many new thing so little time to type.

This week is officially heck week. (In an attempt to make up for my past transgressions this week, wvery thing will be PG... good luck reading this entry with a straight face.) In an apparent atempt to kill myself (ok not so PC but I didn't know how else to say it and save it's artistic integrity...) I tried to make it through this weekend with approximatly 3.4 hours of sleep while trying for the world record of "most ridiculous out-of-character tasks acomplished in the world" Well, ok only one thing was all that out of character, and that was drinking too much apple juice saturday night and getting completly... full. Honestly, I have no clue what came over me. It got to the point where i couldn't stop the apple flow and I didn't care to. The sad part of this whole experience is that Everyone at the apple party I attended wanted me to get a sugar high, but when i did They all said how "obnoxious" and "inconsistent" I am. Another exaple of why I don't understand people. I CONSISTANTLY try to do what you (the reader, my friends, my mother ect...) want me to and you are persistently displeased with my actions and or reactions to you and life in general. (I know insert Blosom moment here about how I should be consistent to God, but thats why this weekend was so totally out of character for me.)

So, Before the apple incident, I went to a party my mother held for one of her close friends and schmoozed with the elitest of all baltimore celebridiom; Radio DJs. My mother parties are alwasy fun but this one was particularly cool because I don't live with her anymore so I didn't see the 72 hours frenzy she goes into of non stop cooking because heaven forbid the Hun army show up and we would be caught short of baked ziti, and because I think everyone there thought I was much older than i am, so i had so riviting conversations about Parenting, Working, and Umpa- Lumpas... Don't ask. There's out of character mess #2 right there: I actually LIKED being spoken to like i am 26. Most people do it just because they look at me and see a grown woman and then they are dissapointed when i act like an 18 year old, but these people were fairly pleased with my youthful quick wit and general 18ness while still being contented that i am a grown donkey woman. (figure that one out yourself.)

So after work friday night, Work Saturday morning, my mom's soiree, my friends apple party, three hours of sleep, church and special music, and of course ignoring Mr. And Mrs. AND the ridiculous jack-donkey who decided to ask ME (not the happy couple in question) "What's up with Miss. Woowoo and Mr. Future Millionaire, are they a thing?" I was a pretty ticked off and tired little puppy.

They i met the brunt of the most crazy baltimore traffic jam ever and finally made it home at 9 last night and have been sleeping soundly ever since.

Oh, Soundly that is, aside from my nightly visits from el Diablo. But thats a whole seperate blogger issue we will tackle together NEXT TIME ON SUPER FOOTWEAR GIRL...

I told Mi.ss Locquacious that we might have a funeral to attend if i saw, heard or had any inkling of anything going on between Mr. Future Millionaire and his new chick. Then i nearly killed her in the church parking lot... WOOPSIES...

Seriously though, DEATH was not my intention, but it nearly insued when i confronted her about the whole "let's rub it in Super Footwear Girls Face" Phase that life has entered. In my defense, She nearly died laughing at one of my classic break-down-and-tell-a-joke moments... but nontheless...

I'll spare you the ridiculous details and put your fears to rest. Let's just say she lost her breath, but she found it and she's fine. Hurray for that, she lives to be my infamous archnemesis for another episode...

I suppose i should feel bad knowing that they both probably read this and talk about how awfully drab I'm being about the whole thing. I suppose I should not broadcast my life on the world wide web for all to read and think horibly of them, that is if they ever figure out who THEY are. Then again, let's consider the facts:

• I am Super footwear Girl, and undeniable icon of modern Super retail heroes, and therefore my story must be heard
• THEY are the bad guys who are trying to ruin my life
• THEY have eachother and I have (cricket, cricket) NO ONE (Because, in case you forgot, they;'re sabotaging my LIFE.)

Honestly, they can suck an elf. My sincere hope is that they read this and feel bad and maybe STOP SCREWING ME OVER. But I doubt that will happen. Maybe a fight to the death on top of a rainy building with only our cunning use of our gadgets and super human powers is the way to solve this dilemma. OR MAYBE THEY SHOULD STOP SUCKING.

I walked through the mall today to window shop and stopped at the pet store which usually perks up my poor mood. But no such luck today. I just ended up walking past a jewlery store which only made me feel poor and alone.

How did Holly Golightly survive with all those Rats and super rats?