How come Mr.Hampster has time to talk to everyone but me?

How come I'm the last to know about his internship, who he's living with, who he's meeting, and the classes he's taking? How come I contantc him atleast once every two weeks and i get no reply? Silence. Not even silence. It's like he's dead to me. I feellike the father in the prodigal son story, just waiting and waiting and waiting at home with no word, while my son does things I never taught him to do. But atleast he's doing well. I keep telling myself that that's all that matters; his hapiness. But that's only true until I hear from someone else about his big life changes. That's only a fact until I have a dream about us kissing, a dream in which he says "I don't want to have to move in close to kiss you... You have to meet my lips where they are." That's only true until I send him an email/letter/text/message/phone call that goes unanswered for the a length of time that seems to stretch beyond the horizon and loop around to catch up to me, writing my next letter, imploring him to please, please,please help me understand how he's doing, what he's doing, how he feels... I don't want to hear he's doing well from other people. All that matters is seeing his handwriting, hearing his voice, opening an email, or recieving a text message from him saying "I'm doing well."

That's all I want.

I've been trying to record all that has happened recently oh, a billion times, but freak accidents, time constraints and more important things have come up. I will now sum up as best I can in order to fulfil your need for info about my life and avoid previous restrictions...

A) i got new glasses, yeah!
B) Dave... yeah not so much...
C) Mr. Hampster sister... eugh... nuf said
D) Mr. Future Millionaire re enters stage right. :)
E) Powers.. Yeah I have 'em...

Aren't you jealous that my life is cool enought to be itemized in an outline?

So I know you're all dying to know about "Dave." I know this because random people are leaving comments on my blog saying "I want to hear more about Dave." (P.S. If you are said random person,who are you?)

Here's the here about Dave. He's great. He's just too cute. He's Christian, he's got the cd collection I have always wanted, he's smart, he's older, he pretty much just gets it.

That's all I want to say right now because A) You shouldn't be so nosy and B) I've been awake for too long and I'm ready for bedy...

Yeah that's right, bedy...what about it

Valentine's day...

Kobe's. Flowers. Bears. Bad movies.
Nothing better...

So tonight I shall commit to posting two blog entries, much to the dismay and/or delight of my 3 readers. One blog entry (this one) shall be a rant and one (the next one) shall be a rave. You choose which Louise you like best...

THE RANT:

I am tired of being made to feel small. I'm tired of being labeled "immature" "naive" or "stupid". It might be true that i am all of those things but good god people, don't you think I get that by now? My parents, my siblings and my aquaintences take time out of their precious life nearly every day to inform me of my inequities, and now my friends lodge an attack? Can't a girl catch a break?


Seriously, what do i have to do to prove myself to you people? (especially you "friend" types?) I have made every academic goal set before me, yet I'm still "stupid". I have gotten acollades in every business venture I have ever tried and yet I am still "incapable". I have lived my life with practically no help in rasing myself yet I can't shake the title of "immature". I smile and talk sweetly and work dilegently, yet I am a snob by many accounts.

I just don't know what to do. I don't know where to go from here. i can't try any harder. I don't know what else to do. What do you want from me? No one is the perfect daughter/friend/co-workers/person, so why would any one expect that of me? I try so hard to each the expectations of everyone around me and yet I am still called lazy and selfish and-- oh the list goes on, but if I continue I will also be able to count "whiny" among my many faults.

Could someone please just like me the way I am? Could someone lower the bar so that i could squeeze by? Just this once let me in. Let me be good enough. Just for a day can we pretend that I meet you expectations and that I am, at the very least, acceptable to you? I try so hard.. All I want is a nod. A simple recognition as a fellow and equal human being. You'll have to just compromise tonight and give it to me because honestly I have no idea how to earn it.

So I think that'll do...

Now for

THE RAVE:

I have a date. For the first time in a long while I have a real, legit, bone fide date with a man. This, for me, is very exciting. I am being taken out like a lady to a very nice restaraunt buy and very nice gentleman friend.... who will be henceforth referenced as Dave. ( I know, I know, but I'm running out of clever quips)

So yeah, that's all folks...

It was a beautiful day on the island. the winds were blowing softly westward, a sign of good, steady tropical weather. The tourists bustled about, angry that they had oversplet the sun, eager to begin their day. The merchants were putting out their goods in the market and setting up their stalls. Fresh pineapple and plumeria invaded the senses. The sun was warm to the touch and shining just right, set high above the red-brown foliage covered mountain sides. Someone was playing a ukelele on the corner with a straw basket out for collections. The smile on the Hilo Hattie tour guide shone out over the large ruffles of her well pressed muumuu.

As I walked along, I could tell I was nearing the ocean. The crowds rushed into a Denny's on the corner and I strolled right past, the only sustainace I sought was straight ahead, past a japanese resturaunt, down a tiny alley way, and ten paces west. Unfamiliar tourists don't know that the ocean on that side of the world is perfect all the time, most suspect it is too early for any enjoyment to be had out of the west city side of the island; I am as good as a native, I know her waters will never disapoint. I disapear into the alley and emerge in paradise. The concrete walls part to reveal a perfect rolling turquoise ocean and the most picture perfect view of Diamond Head, short of a 50 mile hike or helicopter. Something glitters on the farthest tip- A diamond? A precious jewel? Silly settlers of old, the mountain is the glittering. The Island is the diamond, strong, beautiful,perfect, immutable.

I walk over a bridge built up against the water. Again, two well-dressed tourists hurry past, dodging the crashing waves that send mini tidal waves over the side of the pedestrian crossing. I know that the water is warm and sweet, I almost ran to meet a wave and then, remembering the pledge I made to myself, I kept a steady pace. Steady like the breeze, steady like the ocean. I made it off of the 30 foot bridge and struck golden sand with the picks of my feet. More diamonds.

I walked slowly to the water, shoes in hand. Slowly, the Hawaiian sun never burns the sand. I dipped in and out of the water, continuing my eastward journey to the moutain. The huge, immovable, immutable, steady mountain. i walked and walked slowly for hours. the sun never set, the tourists never changed, and the mountain never came closer. i reached, and plodded and stretched my endurance to the point of exhaustion and still-- nothing. No change in the island, only a change in me. Only fear, despiration, perspiration, perserverance. I must continue. i must reach the--

And then I woke up. A strong wind blew at my door and with it, took all my drems of the island glamour. The sun hung out of my window, as weary as I, looking out over flat, cold, clouded lands. A light fog lifted as the day went on and a cold frost crept cautiously covering everything with cat like stealth. The air smelled of snow and hung like rain. The tourists changed into bussiness men-- suits, Buicks, and deadlines in tote, they rushed to miss the crashing of the rain. I now better though. No need to rush anywhere, it will all be the same unless it's Paradise.

OHHHHHHHH
i wanna go back to my little grass shack on Ke'LiKiLani
Where the palm trees sway and the dolphins play each and every day

I had a dream last night that I walked as far as i could walk on the Oahu shoreline, starting at Waikiki and stopping only because i hit the Diamond Head moutain.

I have to say, with all this cold weather and my generally down trodden mood lately, I wouldn't mind a walk on sandy beaches with an endless glittering turquoise ocean set before me and a mountain to walk towards while gentle tropical winds combed my hair...

Aloha...

In the morning when I wake up,
Before I put on my make up
I say a little prayer for you

Forever and ever you'll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever and ever we're never to part
Cause that would be heartbreak for me

You'll say we've got nothing in common
no common ground to start from
and we're falling apart
You'll say
The world has come between us
Our lives have come between us

Still I'll know you just don't care

Nice Touch.
Thats the word for the day. Nice Touch.

Ever notice that when you're down the hurt just keeps on coming? Ever notice that when you're heartbroken, that person finds their light?
Ever notice that when you're tired you end up having to do 10 times the expected amount?
Ever notice that when you're tested once, you're tested a million times?
Ever notice that no matter how hard you try you can never do as well as you would like?
Ever notice that everyone else has better parents/spouses/friends/bosses?
Ever notice that no one ever notices you?
Ever notice that when you're late you hit ever traffic light?

Ever notice that no matter how far down you are, you can still see God?
Ever notice that for every heartbreak He has suffered a million times more just for you to be in that moment?
Ever notice that Voice, that treacherous snake hissing in your ear, always dies away when you say His name?
Ever notice that when you need Him most, He has given you all?

I have.

So underneath my sign on for this blog the words "Tequila Mockingbird" caught my eye and I felt compelled to share with all of you that, believe it or not, contrayer to my present and inherent loquacity, i was actually a pretty dumb kid and I really did think that when I got to ninth grade that they were going to force me to read a book named "Tequila Mockingbird". My teacher got quite a laugh out of this when she asked us to do a pre-reading research on it and then write an essay about why we thought the book was controversial. I, being the slacker that i am, failed to do the pre-reading and subsiquently turned in a paper intitled: "Tequila Mockingbird: The Trouble with Boozing Birds."

While the preceeding story is not entirely true, (I'll allow you to pick and chose the parts you think are fancy and fact)my little anecdote is hopefully a colorful example of how words can cause so much darn trouble.

At any rate, that was not my initial vein of thought so let me digress. (Yes, vein.Often times thoughts have their own life therefore they are not as inanimate as a train, but rather pulsating, pumping, and pondering into their own existence or life support system, all depending on what is required of them.) So, to begin a new, to begin a new, such sweet bliss in creationism...

Now that i have talked myself right out of the original town my thoughts had built when I stared this blog more than twenty minutes ago, I shall now revert back to the thought I did manage to get down on the proverbial paper of the internetand that is this: words. "Over numbers, unencumbered and numbered words", as Jason Mraz might say about them. Words- Don't talk too much for it fosters sin. Be sensible and shut off the flow; As the poet of Psalms, David, might say to the effect of vocabulary.

Words- A sound or a combination of sounds, or its representation in writing or printing, that symbolizes and communicates a meaning and may consist of a single morpheme or of a combination of morphemes.

As some of you may know or chance to guess, I am close friends with the beast we call "language." In other WORDS, I have been known to talk too much, write too much, sign too much... Anything I can do to communicate... well anything that I feel is neccessary, beneficial or would simply fill the world with that much more thought. I was once asked by a former english teacher, "Miss. Louise," she said, "Do you have a limit you must hit everyday or is your loquacity simply a personal competition to see if you might top your own records of frivilous word usage???" (Again, this is a bit of a frabrication... the said teacher wasn't that eloquent...)

If you've been following along like studious little readers, I made a resolution not too long ago to limit my word usage. My "per capita quota" for each day as it were.(You all see how well that's going) I personally think that there is something fundamentally wrong with my plan to.. well, to shut up. The problem being that I am physically incapable of the task at hand. I just can't do it. I see you, don't you shake your head at me. It's true! It is impossible (not improbably, IMPOSSIBLE) for me to stop talking. To talk is to learn. to talk is to teach. To talk is to LIVE. I can't stop. I've got an eight pound motor made up of 75% water and 25% electricity and it just goes and grows and sows it's wild rambling thoughts all day long. If I didn't get it out somehow, I'd go comatose with all the thoughts just hanging around. Simply Coconuts!

You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?