MEETING MY DEADLINES

Like a good student.

Here's my T13. Read em and weep. Or laugh, I guess it's all perogative.

13 reasons why I need a vacation:

1. I can't stay awake without a Grande Triple Mocha with two pumps Almond and Caramel sauce add whip

2. I have no time during the week to do my piano homework.

3. My fake dundalk nails look for serious screwed up

4. I like going to the gym. Without having to get up at 5:30 AM.

5. I miss Baby Stacey.

6. I need to apply for College.

7. I need to call Jeff and tell him that I applied.

8. I need to get divorced.

9. I have library books that are 6 months late. I am sick of the Hate mail from the BCPL.

10. I would like to take a vacation for about 6 months during indoor volleyball season to coach.

11. There's a crack in my windshield less than a week after I got my car back from the shop. (which took 3 weeks and 2400 dollars more than anticipated)

12. I owe 13.43 people dates.

13. I want to be a real live 21 year old girl!!!

I hope this all atleast made some sense. To those of you that work two jobs, or have kids, or go to school I'm sure you understand.

Another Week Old-Eh

Something of no consiquence to much of anyone in particular, my Thirteen favorite songs for this week. As always in no real order than that of disorder:

1. Poem, Taproot, Welcome

2. Peice of Me, Britney Spears, Blackout

3. In the Middle, Jimmy Eat World, Bleed America

4. Firecracker, Josh Turner, Everything is Fine

5. Stop this Train, John Mayer, Continuum

6. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered, Ella Fitzgerald, Pal Joey

7. If, Dean Martin, Dino: The Essential Dean Martin

8. I don't wanna be in Love, Good Charlotte, Good Morning Revival

9. Thnks fr th Mmrs, Fall Out Boy, Infinity on High

10. Gotta Get Through This, Daniel Beddingfield, Gotta Get Through This

11. Absolutely Zero, Jason Mraz, Tonight, Not Again: Jason Mraz Live at The Eagles Ballroom

12. Gone to The Movies, Semisonic, Feeling Strangely Fine

13. Getting Into You, Relient K, Two Lefts Don't Make a Right

I hope you like it. On second thought and more typically me, I don't really mind either way. It was good for me.

Eat Love Pray and a few more verbs

A good friend of mine is reading through Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat Love Pray" and we are both benefiting.

My friend/ coworker is a fellow "Lesbian Fat girl club" (for those of you that don't know, don't ask. And yes, we get to wear hats) She is also a fellow woman who is strong and young and pretty and has dreams and wants things to go right for once. She's not a christian, she doesn't eat meat and we disagree on a number of things other than that but when it comes right down to it, we are pretty close.

She is going through a long and drawn out split from her tragic booyfriend which reminds me much of my own station in life at this particular time. We have been complaining to one another about sleepless nights lately. Of missing our collective "hiim"s. Of our respective loves moving on and living fruitful lives without us and leaving us to clean up the mess they made out of our lives.

After reading a particular passage in Ms. Gilberts book, the two of us just looked at eachother and laughed. It's a great page long explanation of how we loose ourselves and give of ourselves to our mates to the point that our own self and desires and personality are extinct.

About how we would give of our time, money, our dogs time, our dogs money, the sun the rain and, when those would not do, sunchecks and rainchecks and love and peanut butter and jelly and sex and poems and brains and silence and music and all those other things one is or is not even entitled to will away to another person.

We laughed because we understood. We laughed because we knew that's what we'd done. We laughed to erase the thoughts of how pathetic we were. We laughed because we realized now that we were owed all those things we so carelessly gave to someone else. We laughed to save ou sanity and excercise our vocal chords. We laughed to keep from crying and beating ourselves up.

Another, less poetic outlet I have settled on for my pent up heart break and feeling of loneliness and faliure is the new delicious Britney Spears album. It's all about sex and desperation and regrets and I love it. Because it has no depth. Because it is so desperate. Because in my mind Britney's a real person with real feelings who might just be disapointed in herself and her choices. And now she's trying to figure out what she wants. Without all of her clothes on. Poor thing.

Poor me. Cheer's to poetry, music and the art of desire.

CHEATING

BUT I COULDN'T RESIST.

Here's my Thursday Thirteen for Yesterday. Ever since I heard about this fantasical idea of making up a list of thirteen things for no reason and every reason, I had to jump on the bandwagon. We're now listening to crazy riding tunes like "pump up the Volume" and talking about things that happened "back in the day" if you want to join us...

THURSDAY THIRTEEN:

THIRTEEN THINGS THAT I WOULD NEVER CHANGE ABOUT MY LIFE. IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER.

1. My new, huge, gorgeous tattoo.

2. The time, though small, that I was given to get to know my grandmother.

3. My crazy work schedule. Which I am altering slightly thruogh sheer exhaustion.

4. Mr. Hamster and that whold period in my life.

5. Working in Radio.

6. Taking spelling in Elementary school.

7. Reading Isaiah and Joshua about 13 times through and in and out.

8. Going to a ghetto high school and meeting the most amazing, interesting, strange, funny influential people I will ever know.

9. Getting married to the idea of a man that my husband was supposed to turn out to be.

10. Taking off the wedding ring and being alive now to tell the tale and help other women and men in my position.

11. My dream to someday write a best selling book about my life and the lives of those funny, interesting, influential characters.

12. My best friend. And I won't name him here but he knows who he is and what he has done for me and that forever isn't long enough :)

13. My Name. No matter how many times it changes itself, I will hold true in my mind to what it is.

I don't care if it was good for you, that was good for me.

MORE Misadventures of Young John

"But Dude" he inserts a dramatic pause here to take a long drag of his Marlboro Medium and blow out the excess from the side of his crooked, perfect mouth. Resuming his thought, "I'm getting divorced"

I don't know why he was so surprised by his own admission. Had he never thought about it before now? Had he forgotten since he arrived here? Did he think I wouldn't understand what he meant by 'divorce'?

'If you're not the one' by Daniel Beddingfield, one of my men you must listen to and love, started running through my mind at the final difficult breath of his admission to misery.

Oh Johnny, if you only knew.

If you only knew that I understand completely. If you only knew how empty I feel when I look down at my naked ring finger. If you only knew that I know what it's like to wake up and wonder where your life has gone. I know what it's like to be facing the option of "single, married, divorced" on your myspace and wondering which one is right. Wondering when you're going to be let go from this limbo.

"I'm not Single"
Said Not-So-Young John

"I'm not Married"
Said John with a sigh

"I'm not divorced"
He let go of his last most painful breath

I'm not anything either, Young John.

Simple pleasure...

Having a dream about something silly... a nose bleed, a car accident, a package... And then having all of those things come true and spending the next week thinking you are a psychic.

I thought I was above it,

But I'm not. I hate you. There I said it.

I hate you and everything you stand for.

I hate marijuana and I hate rebels and I hate tax evaders.

I hate professing, un practicing Christians.

I hate fakes and phonies. I hate lies and decietful behaviours.

I hate uncouthed individuals with clean hair and dirty minds. I hate people who refuse to brush their teeth. I hate people who consistantly eat after 10 pm. I hate people who answer the phone before 6 am. I hate you and your arian looks. And your manicured nails with the oil stains still lingering, embedded in the nail.

I hate people who don't believe in heating and cooling units. I hate communists and purists and doomsday sayers. I hate people who read the wind and the trees and the birds and the snow and the dogs. I hate people with more rifles than cars. I hate your trainwreck of a house that should have never been fixed up and your ghetto fabulous stables and gyms and farming equipment.

I hate "republicans" who don't agree with war, even though at it's very root it causes the society a great upheaval in goods and jobs.

I hate pe4ople who threaten other people. I hate people who could dream of disowning someone for who they loved or thought they loved or pretended to love. I hate people who beat would beat or might beat their children. I hate people with severe self hate. And Eating disorders.

Everything.... Just everything.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHO WHO

Who are you? WHO are you? WHO ARE you? Who are YOU? Who're you?

Who are you to assume that you know anything about my life and time and the things i wirte about and the truths or lies or fantasies i own? Who are you to assume authority when replying to things I write or think or say or do?

To answer your comment, I say that i am sincere and transparent because i can say whatever I want about myslef. I can mean it or not I can lie or tell the truth I can mimic or be original. BECAUSE THIS IS MINE. THIS BLOG IS MINE. THIS LIFE IS MINE.

Stop trying to take this away from me!

I have made up my mind and that is what my last blog was all about. Admitting my faults. Saying that I am wrong and that i hate myself for it. Admitting weakness and room to grow and be free.

I do- forever. I will forever love and forever be me and forever eat turkey sandwiches. All of which are life and nothing all at once. Forver means Forever. And that is all. i will forever love those I choose to love whether or not I choose to allow them to ruin me or not is up to me and God.

I hold truth to all that i say because it is my feelin gs and my feelings are true. i am allowed to truthfully feel cheated and guilty and sad and free and happy and persecuted and loved all at the same time. and all are true whether they are in oposition or not. AND YOU CANNOT TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME! And he cannot take that away from me. Even God cannot tell me when and how to feel.

My words have value. TO ME. I value my freedom to speak and wirte and sing. I trade in the currency of words everyday for new feelings, ideas and beings. I value my opinion and that is all this is about.

STOP TRYING TO JUDGE ME.

Or else I will just die and make your life as mundane and useless as you see mine.

Simple Pleasure

Turkey Sandwiches. With Mayo. And Bacon.

SIMPLE PLEASURE

Piano lessons.

YES... but why?

YES... I love you.

YES... I miss you.

YES... I hate the thought that you might move on and forget that I ever existed.

YES... I feel guilty hoping to see an image of you, curled up in a corner, calling out my name in a psychotic break.

YES... I wish you didn't suck.

YES... I feel guilty for not sticking by you and helping you.

YES... I'm more happy to be alive and unburdened than I am guilty.

YES... I walk around terrified that at any moment you may pop up and try/ kidnap me and hide me away in a mountainside.

YES... I dream about you every night. Most of which are horrifying nightmares. But thats nothing new.

YES... I cry myslef to sleep most nights.

YES.. I cried more when I was with you and suffered more at your hand than any time in my life before or since.

YES... without your love I feel dirty, ugly, and, well, "Certified Pre- owned"

YES.. . I do certain actions with the hopes that you may find out and be crushed.

YES... I feel guilty for all of those moments as well.

WHY? Because I truly loved you whether you ever gave me a second thought or not. Because I was tricked by the devil himself into attaching myself to you. Because I wanted to be enough for both of us. I wanted to love you enough and keep you safe from drugs and your family and my family and the world and I know now that I was asking too much. Because I am not an angel or God or even a princess. I have no control or even ability to contribute to your hapiness. Because the sex really was that good, even if it was my first consentual experience. Because I have been told my whole life that no one would ever want me and I was blind when you said you might. Because I had a plan. Because I have people who expect things from me and I couldn't handle the pressure. Because I liked having someone to hold me at night... that is when you were home and didn't smell like stale beer and weren't mad at me for some uncontrollable reason. Because I meant it when I said I do forever.

I'M SORRY... for being so sincere and transparent. I wish I were able to lie or be deviant like you. Then maybe this wouldn't feel like this.

The whole truth and nothing but

Just thought you might like to know that I am not a liar.

Nor did I ever promise to devulge everything here. So quit looking for everything and just enjoy the music.

Music is real and true whether you like it or not.

Just because you say it's so...

Have you ever heard someone say "Pratice makes perfect?"

It's a lie. PERFECT practice makes perfect.

Just like the saying "Only two things in life are constant: Everyone dies, and everyone pays taxes"

LIES. I could live in the jungle with the animals and eat like a venus fly trap and never pay taxes. or die before I ever paid and then I would beat the system. And there are a many things in life just as true as death. Like blood and rain and chocolate and touch.

So stop lieing and tricking a too well trusting world.

I feel...

Dopey.
Tired.
Weather- beaten.
Cold.
Like Singing.
a little life-drunk.

My simple pleasure for today?
Sleeping alone and knowing that it's the right thing to do.

My secret?
Prayer. Every moment... "when sorrows like Sea billows Roll"

My new Favorite song?
"Not to far from Here"

Best thing to do with my fingers?
Tinkle the ivories.

It can only get better from here.

And, like Dane Cook Says, "I Did my Best."

As crude as it may seem...

I will do what i wish to do with my blog.

I WILL comment your comments and blog your comments and talk about your comments and maybe even publish your comments in the FOR SALE section of the Carroll County Times.

Back off, stepy mcgee. You're part of MY show now.

What was said after the down fall of Roma...

"Well, I hardly know where to begin.
As I am sure you all well know, He and I have been separated for two weeks now. But as you can imagine, we have struggled through much more time and effort to get to this point. I was, to say the least, especially surpised that you would contact me now that we are having such troubles, but I can only attribute it to everyone's desires for our well being and happiness.
I thank you for this opportunity to share in this experience with you, but I regret to inform you of my true feelings that keep me from this endeavor. Rather than waste everyones time and effort, or in a worse case, rather than join the effort with an unsure heart, I must decline a project that would require me to work so closely with Him and you for such a long amount of time.
While I dealry love you son and have prayed for him, he has allowed such transgressions against my person that I no longer wish to sustain contact with him. He has gambled away more than $1,500 of our money, he has become unmanagable in his alcohol abuse, I suspect him of unfaithfulness among other troubles and I believe that only intensive therapy can help him fight the demons he faces.
I am sorry that I didn't tell you everything when we spoke, but I honestly felt in my heart that he and I could work everything out. As a matter of fact, the night that I recieved your phone call, I left work early to return to our apartment for the first time in two weeks. To make a long story short, when I got there I was not greeted by my husband, but by two prostitutes and an older gentleman weilding crack pipes. You can only imagine my sorrow when He did finally show only to be irrate with his guests for allowing me to enter my own apartment and while cursing his new "friends" for giving him a wrong house number. He said he was on his way to pick up one of their friends, but you can imagine what I believe him to have been looking for.
Someone needs to speak to him. He is more than out of control. He's lost. I know your first reaction is to blame me or my family or our lifestyle. But I assure you, I have done nothing but help him and bare with his insecurities, his wild behavior, and his inconsistancy.
My mother has helped us get his beloved Jeep and pay our rent most of the time while he stole from me and everyone we knew. I have spent many nights alone, wondering if he were safe, only to find him in the downstairs apartment with a known drug dealer and felon. To say that I have not tried to help him would accuse me of never loving him. If I didn't love him, none of this would hurt me to say or to live through.
We have all encouraged him in his strengths and helped him find a job that suits him. We have done nothing but praise his efforts and ultimately overlooks his challenges.
He has promised me the world time and time again, but I don't want the world. Or Greatness. Or Wealth. I just pray for his safety and the deliverance of His peace upon my husband.
Please, take good care of him. Get him professional help. Whether it be a therapist, a drug counselor, a pastor... anything. I wouldn't wish what I have suffered with him on anyone, that is why I suggest you not be alone with him in his time of need. Professionals are trained to help people develop the skills they need while not being hurt by their actions in the end.
I am sorry. I am sorry that I couldn't save him, but ultimately, I can't make the decisions he needs to make for himself. He has to want to be a good and righteous man before he will even here what I want for him.
God Bless, and should you need to contact me, don't be hurt if I don't answer the phone. After all of our financial troubles, I may have to turn it off for a week or so, but I can always reach a computer. I don't even know how to tell you to contact your son. I don't know the company he keeps or where he is, for all I know he's with you now, reading this.
With Love-
A broken hearted Mrs"

To those of you that never knew, I loved him through all of this and more than you could imagine. I believe that to have been my strength and this, my solitude and reflection, my weakness.


"Feeling . . . clamoured wildly. “Oh, comply!” it said. “. . . soothe him; save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his. Who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?” Still indomitable was the reply: “I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad—as I am now. Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation . . . They have a worth—so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane—quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs.”

OH CHARLOTTE!

The Misadventures of Young John

Young John read outloud what she had written. "dreams that are nothing and realities that are dreams.... fascinating" He marveled and mused a minute as he pulled her close to him and whispered these utterances and findings and fascinations.

She awoke with a great start. Still half falling, half limb less, she grasped at the air for an alarm that never existed. He handed her the paper and she read aloud about dreams and realities and nothingness.

They paused, both there, both feeling, both in existance. And wondered.

"All motion, including the expansion of the universe, is the result of a disturbance of equilibrium."- Someone smarter than I or Young John.

I will find peace

Strong? Me? How could you think that i were strong? If I were, I wouldn't have bothered with him. If I were strong like you think, I would have been much more content to sit and wait and wish.

I would have kept on looking or ignoring the love I thought I wanted until it found me and sprung upon me a great peace, rather than the tumultuos deluge the last 2 years have turned out to be.

If I were strong i would have found contentment in the peace of knowing he wasn't for me, rather than chasing him down and forcing him to lie about what he was and who he needed.

Granted i have avoided a greater failing. I have performed preventative maintenance on my life and found a temporary repreive. I can sigh relief for a moment in knowing that things can only get better.

But if I were strong, I would never have had cause to regret whom I chose to give my life to.

Something waiting

i sit here iwth so much to do and sleep in my eyes. waiting. I sit here driving, thinking, crying, laughing, working, waiting. I walk, I talk I sing, I skip, I wait.

I wait for deliverance. I wait for paitence, I wait for understanding.

I wait to the line to move, I wait for the right time, I wait for a drink at the bar.

I wait for the most important things and the most simple things and the mind boggling things and the crazy things.

I wait for the mail, I wait for the water to boil I wait for the music to start.

But I don't wait for you. You ran past me in a blur and you were so indistinguished and unkempt and loud and sad and unneccessary.

And I don't wait for you.

One more thing...

My simple pleasure for today?

Hanson.

This is all just a bad dream... This is all just a bad dream... This is all just a bad dream...

I had a thought that ran through my brain and exhausted me last night.

I realized that i have been waiting to wake up.

"The last three years were just pretend."

I go to bed every night, praying that I can find so relief in the reality of dreams and i wake up every morning to the same ol' same ol'. I wake up thinking "today is a new day. Everything is behind me. All the really horrible things never really happened" I wander around all day in a haze, trully believe the crap I sold myself upon waking. And then it hits me. All at once, like a ton of bricks. Nothing is over. Nothing is resolved. Nothing makes any sense yet.

Screw Reality.

Wrong side of the world...

I definatly woke up angry this morning. I wish I could blame it on sleeplessness but I slept until 11 yesterday. BECAUSE I COULD. Becasue I couldn't think or talk or listen any more and I had to find time alone somehow.

This Fing sucks. I just want you all to know that. He sucks, what he's done sucks, how I feel sucks.

OK. Screw this. No more sucking. There's this local radio station tha does soemthing called "Simple Pleasures" The DJs will talk about easy fun nice things that make them smile and then they will take phone calls. I'm going to do this from time to time to remind myself that even if your husband is a dirty drunk who gambles away your life and then stuffs whats left of your money into a crack pipe and some dirty whore's unmentionables, there's still a silver lining to life.

My simple Pleasure:

Clean underwear.

Ghosts, Memories and Wishes

I wish I could tell all of you who are too eager to await the book what is really going on in my life.

I wish I could sit down with each and every person in my life now or who was ever in my life or who ever wanted to be in my life and tell you all what I think and feel and want.

To tell you what I have lost and sacrificed and left and been cheated out of. I wish I could tell you and you could hold me. And then you would tell me how much more I deserve out of life and that everyone makes mistakes. You would tell me of how much you valued me and how much I helped you or entertained you or made an impression on you.

You could whisper to me and cry with me and laugh with me and make me feel whole. But I can't and you can't and so here I am. Shit in one hand and a wish in the other as some may say.

I can't ask you to believe what I have been through. I can't write it or speak it or tell you in a hushed tone on the back porch with you old black lab licking your feet. I can't because I gave you up a long time ago and you are one of those things that never belonged to me any how.

Not that you ever whispered to me or held me or needed me. You were one of the type to sit across the room and watch me laugh and it would make you smile to see me happy. You were the one to watch me be kissed and revel in the glory of the peace I felt. You were the one to catch a glimpse of a sparkle in my eye and imagine that I were indeed a diamond myself.

Had I ever had any claims to you it was that of your grace and leniency of my faults. My quirks and unsavory bits and pieces you always forgave and they were to you proof that I was human and therefore worthy of your protection.

I say protection with authority, for everything you did you did to help me. You, I believe would have held me and kissed me and done all those things I need so badly now had you thought it would ultimately do me any bit of good. But you saw what was coming and you knew what was best, you in your silent and patient watchfulness knew how to gauge when to pick me up and when to let me fall.

So this is to you who let me fall and to you who pick me up. To you who come near and to you who wait in the wings. To you who praise me and embrace me openly and to you who secretly pray for me every night. To you who love me loudly and softly.

Desperado

I just want to scream, kick, and throw a fit.

Is that too much to ask?

I want to cry alone and close the curtains and sleep all day. and right now I want to watch Big Love.

A Rethought

She begins her session again, this time cautiously, knowingly. She sees the familiar but vague looks in his eye as she assumes the possition for complete lift off...

"What if they're not dreams?" Stumbling, she speaks out.

"they who?" Dumbfounded, he fumbles through. He never was very deep.

"what if my dreams aren't dreams? what if--"

"AHHHH, But if they are not dreams than what are they?" His fake British accent is so overwhelming he starts at the sound of his own voice. Won't make that mistake twice.

"I don't know... Maybe the dreams are the realities and the realities are the dreams..."

"What realities??" he picks up his pen, crosses his leg and begins to draw a familiar face, on a sheet of paper that also houses his grocery lists and other important things.

"What if the apartment... the car.... the love of my life... the hapiness, is all just a dream and the realities are just one big jumble?"

"Oh!... Jumbles..." he mumbles as his mind is distracted with the thought of his word jumble left undone on the kitchen table. He adds it's completion to his "to-do" listb as she drowns out his other, more important thoughts...

"What if it's all just... nothing?"

Then she fell. Flat on the floor. The room grew dark and he was gone and the alarm did not sound and the lists and jumbles and pictures and couch and chair and eerything were gone.

And she did not move, because she didn't know if her legs were gone too.

Feeling a little voulnerable....

"Lately, I have been having these crazy dreams"

She syas, as she lays down on the oh-so- oevrused and over stuffed red velvet couch..

"mhmmm..." he replies, with a look in his eye that denotes a thoughtfulness she attributes to the grocery list she believes him to write every session.

"Dreams about everything. Everything from kids to marijuana, to my husband, and my old friends and magical happenings, and being in love, and missing people. Dreams that should be my real life but they're just dreams--- dreams that i wish I never saw-- dreams I wish I could relive"

"ahh, I see" Lemonade... Tomatoes... Diapers...

"and I can't help but think about them..." she holds her breath and shakes her head, her newest tick to banish their memory...

After a long pause, he thinks it best to mention " And how does that make you feel?"

" lonely... But I'm not, I'm so happy, so content.... but I can't help feeling-- when I'm having these dreams.... an overwhelming sense of loneliness... like I'm trapped in another universe and I can only see them, I can't reach them..."

"my... thats complicated..." Milk...Bacon...Potting Soil...

"So what do they mean?'

"they who?"

"They the dreams- why can't I get all of these ghosts to stop haunting me?"

Her time is up. He slowly stretches to turn off the alarm, and leaves her with one last thought :

"I'm not involved in the paranormal"

And she wakes, startled by the reality of her messy room in her tiny apartment, on the wrong side of town.

a comment on a comment...

THE COMMENT

Boy it's very conceited of you to think that the blog entry was about you unless of course you are portraying some of those characteristics. examples conniving, deceiving, fake, pompous, placating, phony.... I could go on listing adjectives but I'm sure you get the picture. So in closing, I guess you could say that I find it interesting that someone would get offend over pure Internet nittter- natter, that may or may not even pertain to them.


THE REFLECTION:

RULE NUMBER ONE: NEVER USE SOMEONES FIRST NAME IN A BLOG, COMMENT, POST, OR ANYTHING.

I work VERY hard to spare anyone of direct exposure, please respect me in the same way. The next time someone puts my first name out there like that IN MY OWN BLOG WHEN I DON'T EVEN DO IT, I will have to start breaking things... It's just the rules.

In direct comment to your mention of internet nitter-natter, I find it hard to believe myself. Why must people constantly take what they read and turn it into something its not? Why should someone use my poetic prose, whether positive or negative, to badger me. Ask questions, engage in meaningful conversations, by all means, get involved. But don't be mean. Thats just not fair.


TO CONTINUE

I have a hard time thinking of myself negatively; I would rather believe that I used my powers of perception to deduce that terribly difficult mystery.


And on another note, I would imagine that what you have to say about me (OR ABOUT WHOMEVER YOU WERE TRUELY REFERENCING IN YOUR IRRATIONAL AND HYPOCRITICAL RANT) is more of a reflection on your total lack of control and immaturity than it is a true representation of the person your were dipicting.

The post that appeared on your myspace didn't really include any of those adjectives that you took the time to thesaurus either, so I'm a little confused about your comment. All your post depicted was how ANGRY you were with WHOMEVER and how YOU wished YOU could express your anger in a way that would negative affect the person your were persecuting.


I ALSO BELIEVE that it is unfair of you to further attack me when all I had to say was positive and affirming of my own self esteem, rather than attacking or demeaning your person (accepting only my slant against your grammatical and spelling errors, which I suppose you could see as negative, unless you actuall took my advice WHICH I THINK WE ALL CAN TELL YOU DID BY YOUR IMPROVED STYLE IN YOUR COMMENT-good job, by the way)

THE LOVE

You also mention God's plan for vengance in your post.

Let us all remember Leviticus 19: 16-18:

16 " 'Do not go about spreading slander among your people.
" 'Do not do anything that endangers your neighbor's life. I am the LORD.
17 " 'Do not hate your brother in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly so you will not share in his guilt.
18 " 'Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD

As well as Romans 12: 17-21:

17Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men.
18If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.
19Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
20Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head.
21Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.

THAT IS ONLY if we are speaking of the smae God, The one true God who gives Grace to all and forgives all sins; the Lord Jesus Christ. If we have a different opinion of who God is, then by all means, disregard my biblical references; I apologize for any misunderstanding thereof.

AT ANY RATE

It all comes down to this. Life is hard enough. Quit being negative. Doesn't anyones mother preach "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" anymore?

AND LET US CONFIRM OUR FAITH

ON A MUCH MORE POSITIVE NOTE:

1 Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. 3 For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ, who is your[a] life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.
5 Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. 6 Because of these, the wrath of God is coming.[b] 7 You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. 8 But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. 9 Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.

Colosians 3: 1-10

What?

THE FOLLOWING IS A POST FROM SOMEONES MYSPACE...
Someone as in not me. This is someone who obviously has a pretty poor opinion of me, not to mention a pretty poor grasp of grammatics and spelling. I just felt the need to share this. Some people enjoy complaining about the positive things that i have to say. Now it's time for me to complain about the negative things they have to say. Read on....


OCTOBER 14 2006

UMMMM.....
Current mood: bitchy


have you ever been so mad at some one that you wished they would just die.... or at lest leave you alone? well thats about were I am right now. This person (whom I will not say) I know she hates me and I hate her.... no.... scrach that I despise her. every since I've known her my life has been HELL. I can't stand her.....but I can't do anything about it. I can't hit her cause I will hurt her I can't dawm her to HELL cause thats not my place. The onlything I can do is take it like a woman but i wish i could just vent no one will lisen cause they think I am just being dramatic. What I came to grips with is that I am better than here thats why she pushes my buttons cause she knows it and she can't tie me down she has no controll over me and she knows it and it freekes her out.Two can play this game I will do something to her that will...(like the BITCH she is)....(female dag BITCH) run so fast with her tail between her legs and I will come out on top. ha ha ha she has no idea what I have in store for her she will have to always be looking over her shoulder cause I WILL get her back. GOD say evrything comes back ten folds good or bad....so ten fold is what it will be.

word to the wise DON"T PISS ME OFF cause I will come back after you stronger and harder ha ha ha he he he



TRY ME!
*********************************************

Why would someone be that negative? And why do they then have the right for further persecute me for my happiness???

I WONDER....

Oh Cal...

So I wet to get coffee the other morning, which was quite a feet in and of itself- The Daily grind that's closest to my office has, oh yes, 3 parking spots, then there's a delivery lane that 18 people always try to squish into between 8:10-*:14 in the morning. I tried to pull in and my mom kept nagging me about the "proper way to park in the delivery lane" and "not to hit other cars" So I told her I would drop her off and run BACK to the Daily Grind. Obviously I was a little more testy than neccesary due to my lack of caffinated beverage.

So I took mom to the office and came back to pick up my coffee, business as usual. "All fat hazelnut iced large latte, thank you" So I'm leaving right and then BAM!!! A HUGE BLACK TRUCK IS JUST SITTING THERE, PULLED IMPROPERLY INTO THE DELIVERY LANE. And guess who is in the huge black truck, talking on his tiny black cell phone?? THE AMAZING THE OUTSTANDING THE GORGEOUS AND OTHERWISE PERFECT--- CAL RIPKEN!!!!!!!!!!! So I smiled and my little heart started a-fluttering and he waved and the guy coming towards me in the parking lot who obviously did not see or recognize the venerable CAL RIPKEN looked at me like I was a flippin fruit loop.

Then I called my mom.
"MOM OMG GUESS WHO'S IN THE DELIVERY LANE OF THE DAILY GRIND?"
"I don't know but I sure hope you parked diagonally and didn't hit anyone"
"OMG MOM FOCUS I THINK CAL RIPKEN IS IN THE DELIVERY LANE AT DAILY GRIND"
"Listen I can't understand a word you're saying but so help me if you hit someones car---"

Now I had been whispering in a highly excited manner so as not to alarm the amazing Ripken. Now I started to get a little excited and shouted into the phone, in no uncertain terms "CAL RIPKEN IS IN THE DELIVERY LANE OF THE DAILY GRIND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Well, for heaven's sake get a picture of him!"
"OMG but mom what if it's not him what if he says no, he's on his cell phone what if i offend the great and all powerful Ripken"
"IF it is him he'll understand and if it's not so what you'll never see that guy again."

I rolled up next to his improperly parked huge black truck with my window rolled down and no sooner did I whip out the camera phoine did he remove the tiny black cell phone from the ear whence it was attached and udder the unforgettable phrase ....

"Cheese!!"

TO BE CONTINUED.....

She sighs, and with a huff cries A-PAR-HANT-LEE!!

So I fancied myself a poet with my last entry. I believed my brief descriptive poetic blurb in my last entry was not only self-gratifying, but capable of bringing those who truly love me, this city, or life a smile. Maybe not a full on, teeth bearing, say Cheese smile, but a soft thoughtful smile nonetheless.

BUT NO. A-PAR-HANT-LEE some people either

A) Really HATE Baltimore
OR
B) Cringe at the thought of me gaining anything from my life

A-PAR-HANT-LEE these people read my last blog and actually took nothing poetic or relaxed or really useful from it. They just got Angry. They just used it against me.

A-PAR-HANT-LEE they found some offense in my love of seagulls, and crab cakes, a malls, and the 695 Beltway. A-PAR-HANT-LEE they think maybe i should just be miserable. Maybe i should just forgo any happiness or light and transform myself into a thoughtless gnome.

WELL HERE'S A THOUGHT:

Leave me alone.
Get off my case.
If you have a complaint, file it in a box and throw that box in the ocean.

Actually you could just ship that box to me. I can hit the ocean from here.

(It really would take quite some time for your complaint to travel so far to the Atlantic from all the way up in the Mountains, Now wouldn't it???)

If you don;t like that thought i have another on for you, but you'll probably shirk this one off as well:

Call me and tell me you don't want me to be happy.
Call me and tell me that my references annoy, hurt or anger you.
Tell me, instead of badgering someone else. MYSIDEKICK

A-PAR-HANT-LEE, once again, I am not allowed to express my thoughts freely, so I have to use these veiled allusions (which people OFTEN TIMES take much too literally) to sned any messages.

And Boy, is this white child sick of people using her writing to interpret her life. People who don't take the time to even think to, oh I don't know TALK TO ME, are reading my blog, looking at my myspace, riffelig through my personal journals, and rooting through the proverbial garbage of my mind in order to garner some false sense of what I mgiht be thinking at any given time.

Can anyone really know what, in his most profound work, The Wasteland, Eliot meant by the verse:

THE river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.
And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;
Departed, have left no addresses.
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept...
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.
But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

Can anyone really judge what her state of mind was when Charlotte Bronte set our to write Jane Eyre?

If you can, you would be the first, a true inside source. Surmise. Wonder. Philosophize. Discuss. Debate. Theorize. Hypothesize.

You could look at their history. Consider the evets in their life and what effect they might have had on their overall sensibility and opinion. You could look at their Zodiac sign and determine if they are an analytical thinker or a heart-lead feeler. You could sit for hours and ponder all the hidden messages. Or whether there was only on message. You could discuss their motifs, plot, setting, or theme. You could divine an answer with runes.

In short you could Guess.

But do you really know? Is it really fair to make the assumption and say with authority what is and isn't, what is meant and derived, what is said and what is omitted?

In truth, you do not know. Nor do you know or have any understanding.

STOP THE LIES.

Or just ask me. I'll tell you all my dirty secrets.

The clean ones you'll have to pay for.

Loving Arms

I went for a walk, barefoot and calm the other 70 degree day. Just another crazy winter for baltimore, I thought. the winter sun wrapped its unusually warm rays around me and I felt a calm I have not felt for almost a year.

I am home, and my city, She has opened her arms to me and delivered me to the foot of the sea, to be swallowed whole by all things maritime and beautiful.

A few of my favorite things

My husband thinks that I write about too many negative things and don't include enough positive ones. While everyone knows that writing is about expressing your feelings and being true to your self and all that jazz, I am going to bend to his will just this once and write things he might like to read... But I do intend to use extremely exorbitant words just to annoy him in a reticent sort of way...


THINGS I LOVE TO LOVE:

1. I am begining to love the cold mountain weather. It is exceedingly reanimating to come in from the cold and finally start to feel your toes again.

2. I love snuggling. See number one for my favorite machinations for snuggling. (I was not commiting an espieglerie about the vernacular, hoi polloi... I make no atonement for the sin of being a smart ass.)

3. I love my monogynist. I am aware that it is a given, but I don't presuppose I say it nearly enough for everyone to kumtux.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

1. Having dreams. As Cindy once said " A dream is a wish your heart makes..." and I am a wishin'

2. My husband. I love him and he makes my heart jumpand do tiny sumersaults for joy. I wish I weren't so hard on him, or so particular, or so demanding. Because i think it makes him forget how much I really do adore and esteem him.

3. My drive to go home. He really is all I have right now and I am so small without him. I am in a situation that forces us apart right now but my heart is racing for him as if he were the finish line of life.

Just a few nice thoughts in a world full of malignity and depression...

Invisible girl

I have always said that if I had a super power it would be invisibility. And today i think I achieved it. I had a door shut on me five times, someone ask for me when I was in the same room, and my husband either has learned another language and everytime I ask him a question he just hums quietly and gos about with his business.

It really kinda of sucks to be so inconsequential with all of these ubber important people floating on past me. My in laws and coworkers and roomates (all the same general category) speak over, around, under and next to me in order to avoid noticing the great gray glob of absorbtion I have become.

I have never felt so quiet in my life...

A Hardcover Copy...

i have been pressured into it time and time again and i think I might actually do it. I know, i know what you're going to say. I'm too young. I don't know what I am getting myself into. This will change my life forever. I can't undo it.

But it's time. I am at the point in my relationship with life where I can comfortably say yes... without regrets.

I am going to make a good faith effort to write a book. I have wanted to. Wondered what it would feel like. Dreamt about it. Fantasized about the smell, the feel, the love of the pages and binding.

I know. I am a pervertion of my former self. I am no longer full of pure thoughts. All I can think about is tha first moment when I realize that i did it... The release, the explosive joy of writing a new-york times best seller....

Ah, exploring the wet dreams of a nerdy almost-English major...

A Curious Dream...

So i was sleeping the other night, LIKE YOU DO, and I got to dreaming...

I had a dream that I was packing and leaving Mr. Bunny to go back to high school. Throughout the dream I was consumed with worry about how to see him during the school year and was he going to come to my volley ball games and what my teachers could possibly teach me in another year of high school.


It was so interesting to wake up feeling like I had to go buy back to school clothes and like I was going to see Miss. Loquacious in a few days.

And then I got to thinking, LIKE I DO, and I thought...

Gee I miss school. And my friends. And my learning environment. And not being responsible for everything. And having free time. And having the time to think about thing that I think are profound like BLOGGING and LIFE... in that order.

I just realized that I have no idea what I am doing and I miss knowing things...

Anything...

Something New

There is something very blissful in knowing that my one and only is coming home soon. Here it is, nine thirty on a Friday and I know that at some point in the very near future, my husband is preparing to walk through that door and sweep me off my feet. Or at least crash on the bed beside me and hold me close while he snores and talks an intelligible nonsense all night long.

I know this is bound to happen tonight because it happened last night and the night before and most likely will continue as a trend. He will come home to find me half asleep on the couch and I will find him smelling of sawdust and we will melt into sweet oneness for four to eight hours straight and it will be great. Outstanding. Superb. Thrilling.

The swet routine of wedded bliss...

Ahh... Married Life

My husband (That's right, I said Husband) likes to do this thing that he thinks is so cute. Anytime someone asks him about married life, he likes to hem and haw a moment, and then lose all notable feeling in his eyes and look at the palm of his hand and autonomously rattle off this response:

"Married life is great, I am a happily married man with a lovely wife"

Don't we all think that's cute?

just another snippit from what now is my life.

So shoot me....

I know I am such a hypocrit. So i go on and on for months about how i couldn't possibly have a myspace and how mind numbing it is...Then I spent all day yesterday figuring it out and putting up my wedding pictures (myspace.com/adayinthelifeofmrs_dahl)

I KNOW I KNOW... I am such a fish. But what can i say? I like the attention and the fact that I am on the web! It's like being in a newspaper, writing the newspaper, and passing it out...

Myspace = Death

I hate myspace.

Anyone who knows anything about me understand why, but for those of you that have no clue where my agression comes from, I will be happy to illuminte the situation.

Maintaining a myspace takes no brain power. You spend all of your time learning internet speak (Wht r u doin 2nite? etc) and looking at other poeples pictures. Thinking about what they think is cool in terms of music video and who thier best friend is. There is no exchange of ideas, no real connections made, just proverbial mindless relationships that are as emotionally fulfilling as one night stands.

So I have no myspace (well thats not entrely true, I am on there but i do nothing with it)

And I keep getting emails from myspace. "You have a new omment" "McWhore wants to be your friend" So i think "What the hell, did I set one up on this screenname that i forgot about"

I go onto myspce, oh I forgot my password, and they send it to me. So I got on and it's so not me. It's so whiny, bratty 20 year old in California that works minimum wage for a health food store, talking about navel gazing rock and "dark" poetry. (i.e. crap that she has written that she hopes everyone will think is too meaningful to think that it's crap)

So I changed everything on it and left the nastiest comment that i think I have ever been able to muster. I get a crap explanation that it was her e-mail address first (Which is bull, because I have had my email adress for 12 years now) and that she was just trying to get back at her ex and why should I have the right to mess her whole myspace up when she didn't do anything to my email??

YES YOU DID! I FELT SO VIOLATED HAVING YOUR STUPID FRIENDS LEAVING COMMENTS IN MY EMAIL, PUSHING OUT ALL THE IMPORTANT THINGS IN MY LIFE, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING PAIN IN MY BUTT.

RAAAR

Branching Out

So I ha ve officially branched out ofthe proverbial box that is single-blogdom and made two new blogs. (Both of which you can find the links for in my blogger profile)

One of the newer blogs, Merciful and Mighty, is taking shape on it;'s own, in 125 words or less a day. it will end up being a fictional story about one girl in an interesting relationship with her significant other and God. FUN FUN

The other one: HELP! i MARRIED A CONTRACTOR! Is all about my new life with Mr. Bunny. it will sort of be a compilation of tips for new brides, housewives and just generally a list of cool and not-so-cool things about marriage.

I hope everyone who reads this one and hates it, loves it or feels indifferent will atleast try one of my other flavors. I am trying so hard to worm my way mercilessly into your hearts...

..I know, I'm a sneaky sneaky lil wench....

Miss. Locquacious and I have had a long running first question for any 20 questions game we endeavor to begin: What type of Peanut Butter do you like; Crunchy or Creamy?

We have asked tens of people that question and matched it to their personality with intent to measure their personality accordingly. It has never worked. mostly because we can't decide what either answer amounts to. but i have found a way to solve this dilema.

"How do you take your Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches:
A) With the peanut butter on one side and the Jely on the other
B) With both condiments on one side"

Either answer, however, equates to the same personality trait.

COMPLETE INSANITY.

If you have to care about how someone makes your peanut butter and Jelly sandwich (and i am talking about someone making it for you, not you personally making it for yourself) then you are without a doubt clinically insane. there is something wrong with the ticker of a person who has to ask "How did you make this PB&J?" Or worse still, upon the site of you slathering your PB&J together "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?"

Just a simple thought for today's lucky reader.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.

Every now and then, sometimes sleeping in his arms, sometimes washing his clothes, sometimes hearing his voice from acorssthe room... sometimes I think to myself: I am married. I am a married woman. I have married the most handsome, sweet, daring, dashing, real-life Prince Charming I could have ever found.

A peace which passeth all understanding washes over me and I find that I have what I need all right here, and it is all mine for the rest of my life.

IF I NEVER:

If I never moved to White Marsh,
I would have never been in a different school district.
If I never got rejected to Carver,
I would have never gone to Overlea.
If I never applied myself in school,
I would have never gotten into GT classes in tenth grade.
If I never met Mr. Hampster,
I would have never gone to New Day Baptist.
If I never met Mr. Movie,
I would have never met Mr. Bunny.

And I would have never lived happily ever after...

wow this month has certainly been a ride, if nothing else... or if everything else.

Tomorrow is Friday and Saturday I am getting married. MARRIED. As in "do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Married as in "Hon, how long have we been married? 74 years?" married. As in the rest of my life.

Someone has just taught me that I shouldn't think of this as the beginging of my life. And this thought has brought to my mind a new revalation if you will. that thought...

My life has been really interesting. I was raised so differently than many people might assume upon meeting me. But to me it was so normal. I had insomnia when I was 10 until I was 16 because I was so used to sleeping in my mom's bed. I am homesick for Oahu. My little tender heart was crushed when my brother told me he wouldn't give me away at my wedding. I dropped eveyrthing (which wasn't much but a retail job and a handful of deliquient friends) to go 250 miles away and "gamble" the rest of my life away.

And now I am continuing my life with a whole new person. In a whole new place. With a whole new perspective on life. I am becoming someone's wife. not someone's charge. Not someone's "buddy." I am becoming one with another person that compared to how well I know myself, I have no concept of how to honor and cherish as well and as fully as I should.

Yesterday he danced with me. Usually, he is fairly resistant to dancing with me because of his mistaken belief that he posseses two left feet, but yesterday I was adept enough in wooing him with my whileys to turn me around the kitchen floor a few times. To a french song, no less. He didn't spin me or twirl me or dip me or do anything too fancy; it was, in fact, difficult to get him to hold my hand in a proper position. But when he finally relented there we were, dancing.

And for the first time ever dancing with someone, the whole world melted away. I was swept of my feet. He rocked me gently, now here, now there, and I forgot about the music. The room slid gracefully to the side of my vision and finally vanished and it was just him and I and the girl from Ipanema. He guided my feet smothly and held me close, warming my very heart with his tender touches.

It was in that moment that i realized that everything really was going to be as amazing as I had hoped. It was in that moment that i lost all worry and all strife. In that moment, my mother's nagging, his father's larger-than-life approach, my stuffy nose... all ailments woes and worries faded out and it was just me and my love floating on a cloud of heavenly rythn. In that moment, a full understanding of my life and purpose overwhelmed me. I realized that my home is and always has been in his heart.

And I am undone...

I usually muse in my blogs with florid word choice and entertainingly descriptive texts, but lately I feel as though I have been depriving you, dear reader. Truth be told I have seriously been neglegting my own devotions to my writing for... shall we say, alternative activities. I feel like I spend all my time thinking scheming and dreaming about being with Mr. Awesomeness (to be called heretoforward Mr. Bunny) that I have neglected some of my fundemental callings in life. Mind you, gentle reader, you shall never hear (or read) a complaint of the former pass my lips (or fingers) it is but a mere observation.

To continue in a slightly different vein, God I miss him. Yes, Lord. I miss him. I miss being close enough to feel him take a breath, I miss seeing his eyes staring back into mine, I miss listening for his footstep to cross his threshold. I am here and he is there, 250 miles away from me. All for the sake of being mature adults. I should have never left him. Around Valentine's day, after having quit the "big Girl Job" and trying in vain to decide the next steps I should take, I went to see him on an impulse. I spent my last 60 dollars in gas and drove straight through, leaving my poor sick father in the uncapable hands of my lunatic of a mother for a full week and a half to try and decipher what type of situation this turn of events placed my life in. Decisions about what type of job to take, where to work and how to get on without him filled my weary heart. And I left him with the promise of returning in two weeks, completely detached of anything holding me from him.

Here is it, a month and change later and I am still here and he is still there. I am buying short moments of time with him by working a meaningless job 60 hours a week and I am making absolutely no head way in severing ties that might restrain me from my one true happiness.

Half of my worldly belongings are in his home. Being drenched in his company. I can just imagine it: My shirts by now smell like him, my lotions and soaps are annoying him when he is in the shower, and my books are a daunting reminder that he is preparing to tie his life to an unforgivable nerd. And here I am. Stuck in this horrible pergatory of missing him and not finding the courage to handle my life here. Not having the elan to possible bid adieu to all I know and take up my life with him. As his.

But I have nothing to fear. I have nothing to be wary of, for as i have said in my prayers, all of this is in God's hands.

Yes, Lord. I will be strong.

"Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them. Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. 8 Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."
Joshua 1:6-9


Yes, Lord. I will honor him.

Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.
Ephesians 5:22-24

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Proverbs 31:30

Beautiful scenery, wonderful company, and complete privacy make this one of my number one picks for state park excursions...


www.dcnr.state.pa.us/stateparks/parks/yellowcreek

I have been wronged.
Deluded.
Lied to.
Decieved.

I have been doing some random blog readings this morning (something I never do because, as I have just discovered, I am too self-absorbed) and I just figured out that I am not the only worthwhile blog writer in the world. My blog is barely passable when taking in all the other intelligent life forms of blog that there really are.

I had thought I was special. I had thougth that I brought something fresh and new to the scene. A nuveax-blogger classic, if you will. I am sadly mistaken.

I am one of those twelve year old girls who knows bigger words than her friends so her friends automatically tell her sh's a good writer. OR WORSE, I am one of those tweleve year old girls whose friends are sick of hearing her talk so they encourage her to write down her thougths and feelings!!

QUEL DOMAGE!!

What is there to be done?

I got to thinking about the reality of everything again the other day. Instead of being scared out of my mind or overcome with a sense of panic, i actually had a very centered feeling come over me. A calm that washed over me and kissed my brow. A few days ago, he called me just to say that he loves me. While that is nice to hear, it doesn't usually tranquilize my overcative and sometimes fretful mind. Maybe it was his additional statement. His calm and quiet inquiry. His strong voice cent slightly. He cleared his throat and took a preemptory calming breath into his lungs. I could almost see his chest move with the anticipation. He steadied himself. 'super footwear girl, i love you so much...' i replied and waited for him to share what was weighing on his mind. 'i love you and i'm not sure how this works but i have such a desire to love you as christ loves you...' and i am undone...

I haven't written in a while and I fear, for my most devoted readers, no excuse will suffice. I have, I know, severly weakened if not eliminated the intelligent life force behind internet blogging. But never fear, gentle reader. Super Footwear Girl is here.

You may be alarmed, shocked, surprised, or indifferent to the mention of my alias "Super Footwear Girl," and so I must explain. Upon returning from my last trip to Mr. Awesomness' house where I spent an indeterminable amount of time sulking over my impending destitution and jobless esate and the grief my mother has been supplying in regards to my much desired matrimonial bliss, I have come to a conclusion. That there is no time like the present for us to be married. In order to elope with my sweet heart and begin "Happily Ever After," I must first settle some debts here and, most importantly get enough gas to traverse the long way back to him.

Having no job, I wandered aimlessly in my mind, debating on how much a yard sale including all of my fineries would sum up. About nothing was the conclusion. My lifetime of collecting has given me many sentiments that are of no value to anyone but me. So what was I to do? Where to turn? To Famous, of course. Good old reliable Brown Shoe Company. Now I am currently back at my home stead (no, now mind you, not the closest store to me, they had no hours to give me.) I am re-employed with the store in the ghetto. 37 miles away from my house. Where I work 54 hours a week and can expect a pay check that will cover my gas mileage and if I am lucky, the expense of some ramen noodles.

Ahh, to be poor an in love. It would be tolerable were he but here to comfort my weary mind. But, as it is, it's just me and God hanging out. My mother has all but declared me the stupidest woman alive, my father is in the midst of dying and my brothers have never really noticed me anyways. I am sadly to busy for most of my friends and as for going to church, well, it's either go to work and earn $6.19 dollars for that hour or sit and be miserable for the want of Mr. Awesomness to hear the sermon and be at my side to discuss it later. Or to listen to me discuss it.

I cry about him not being here and I wish I had him to dry my tears. I now know what they mean by the phrase, "Don't marry the one you can live with, Marry the one you can't live without"

Off to find more sources of income so that I can go home...

Love took me by the hand
Love took me by surprise
Love led me to you
And love opened up my eyes

And I was drifting away
like a drop in the ocean
And now I realize that
nothing has been as beautiful
As when I saw heaven's skies
In your eyes

And every time I drift away
I lose myself in you
And now I see I can be me
In everything I do

'Cause I was feeling as small
as a drop in the ocean
And now I realize that
nothing has been as beautiful
As when I saw heaven's skies
In your eyes

So i got to thinking today... thinking about him. Thinking about what i'm really doing. Thinking about marriage. Thinking about love. Thinking about forever. i can remember the night that he told of how he felt. How we were on the phone but i could feel him leaning into whisper in my far the best news he had heard all day. 'i never thought i would feel this way... I am liking you more and more.' And that was all it took. In that moment i knew. I knew i had better be sure of this. I knew that once he had his mind set on me he would have nothing less. And here i am, preparing for the rest of my life. I never thought i would be so in love...

Creationism takes form and I am lost inside your world
One glance, two eyes, a hand, a hip, two lips
The world melts into you
To the left of center I find what my dreams have hidden
Your voice, my laughter, honesty becomes me and I am naked
Standing before you with nothing left and everything to give
You whisper, I move closer, we hear a tune played in the stars
A tune that floats and flies and sits inside your lips
Playing out over my heart,
Pouring out in smooth gleaming current
Coursing, flowing, pumping through my veins
A real love, soft and sweet and loud and vibrant
You race through my inner most parts
Discovering, uncovering, recovering the furthest pieces of me
From your eyes and hands a sweetness skips and drips
Upon me lands a dew of love
And I am undone.

RETROACTIVE POST WARNING:

This post was intended to appear November 20th and due to my ditziness it did not. Here it is though. Freedom and wheat...


Hey guys.

I know I have been extremely delinqunet in my blog writing lately, and so today I have set aside an hour, dedicate solely to providing you with good quality tit-for-tat blogmania.

The reason I have been unable to provide you with any digerstable reading can be directly blamed on my present ADD. With this new job and the whole crazy way I have been trying to live on like 3 hours of sleep a night, I haven't been able to focus on one thing for more than 22 seconds. And everything is the worse for it. Just ask my roomate. Poor thing, I am thoroughly surprised she has not had me arrested for the dirty dishes I have not cleaned in the past three weeks. It really is a criminal amount.

So the latest saga... The birthday. The boys. The kisses.

Yesterday was my birthday and instead of praying for someone to throw me a surprise party, or hoping my parents would remember or sulking in the misery that was the birthday blues, I decided that there are far too many people in this month that deserve a good party. Namely my roomate, Ms. Tattoo, two of "The Boys" and Ms. News. In order to keep my sanity and enjoy my birthday for once, I made a party for all of us. We had a luau theme at my roomates parents house, a chinese gift exchange and a couple of dips in the hot tub, all of which made for a really nice party.

"The boys" came into town, complete with their swim trunks just for little old me and let me tell you, I did not recieve a better present, nor could I have designed one, than to have the four of them on my doorstep. I dont' know what it is about them, but having only met them twice i can honestly say that I love them to pieces. I don't know why or how or whatfor or wherefore, but I do.

I suppose they should all have names here so that I could provide proper descriptions of them and so that I could enumerate the reasons that I love them. But it would be a feat. They could be "Boy 1" Ect., but that is hardly fitting for men I wouldn't mind marrying. The easiest thing would be to have them named "Mr. First initial here,"... If they weren't 2 and 2 of the same first initial. I would love to break my own rule and use first names, only because remebering the first names of four absolutely gorgeous men that would make any girl drool her coherency right out of her face is a feat to be proud of... But I just simply cannot do such a thing to myself or to my little buddies. Thats would just be un hott...

Oh well, untill I can think of a system, I suppose I should move onto the kisses; I know you are all awaiting this one with baited breath...

So The Boys walk up to the party house and they come in and we do the huggy huggy how are you I'm fine you smell good intro. And they hand me a bunch of b-e-a-utiful flowers which my easily distracted butt left at my roommate's parents house, and an extraordinarily large glass jar full of Hershey kisses. Well the night goes on and the hershey jar ends up as a gift in the gift exchange and i had to fight tooth and nail, scheming with the eldest to keep it.

And then there was one of those moments. One of those moments where all you can think is "Man, I need to marry/ make out with this kid right here, right now or I am going to explode." And I did. Explode that is. I don't know what to do, I am such a mess. I am sooooo in something with one of them and there's really nothing I can do about it, because at this rate, he'll just be learning how to spell my first name by the time I am picking out a wedding gown. SOMETIMES I HATE BEING ME. I do this everytime. I set my heart on someone/something/some situation that is so improabable it's sick and then, OUT OF NOWHERE, I get dissapointed. You'd think I would learn by now. Thats not too likely though...

Well I have officially spent an hour typing this and I have provided you with 15 minutes of somewhat stimulating material. I feel like I should offer shirts for entries like this one... Shirts that say "I read Luly's blog and all I got was this stinking shirt..."

The big girl job is no more.

I knew this day would come, I just didn't expect it to be so explosive. The woman I worked for was, to say the least, particular. Demanding. Frustrating. Wound Tightly. Annoying. Childish. Unfair. Inhumane...I suppose that actualy says a lot. All of which is true, but none of which is fair. She is a fellow christian and in that respect I should just say that she was "flawed" and leave it at that. But today I was called a liar, a thief, and a sabotuer for something I had no control over. So I am a little testy.

I have been called a lot in my short time here. But a theif? A Sabotuer? These things I am not capable of.

A little white lie here and there, sure... "Super Footwear Girl, did you drink the last of the whole Milk?" "No...."

A little thiever here and there maybe..." Super Footwear Girl, did you eat the Keebler cookies?" "Yes, I did...I know they weren't mine but they just looked so buttery and rich..."

But there is no way to name my character by these small and ultimately inconsequencial oversights of common sense and good judgement. You could not impound my life for the amount of theft of buttery, rich, chocolate-cream filled wafers.

I am not intelligent enough to think up ways to ruin any business because I do not think that way. I don't know how to. The best revenge tactic I have under my belt is post-it noting someone's car, and I have too big a concsience to even do that.

So I had to quit. And no, I don't think it makes me look guilty. If I were guilty of what she was accusing, I would have walked out when I preformed the task instead of waiting around to hear the fallout. If I were smart enough to pull it off and hang around I would have been smart enough to differ the blame. But I am not a criminal mastermind.

I am not a liar.
I am not a thief.
I am not a sabotuer.

I'm just a ditzy girl who tries her hardest and gets herself stuck in the most awkward positions...

(Get you minds out of the gutter...)

I wish I could record every moment of my extended weekend with him and herein entail every plan we've made, but it would be impossible. My brain has logged every sigh and every glance and every touch so accurately, that to write them here would take down the system. It would overload it with words and clips of phrases and descriptive events and monumental sightings so much so that all the blogs in the world would be filled up with my sappy, sweet, over flowing, blissful verbal description of heaven on earth.

Between his beautiful house, the low rolling hills of Northern Pennsylvania, and the quant tiny town that he loves so much, I can't even give you a good picture of life with him. It's just too much. It's just everything.

He's just everything.

Le sexe est de consistance généralement plus tendre que le reste du corps. Il est plus sensible
et très sujet au chatouillement.
C’est bientôt l’été. Le ciel est pâle et brumeux. Il est allongé sur le dos, jambes écartées,
les mains sous la nuque, dans la prairie en fleurs au bord de l’étang.
Le sexe est le point où les humains ressemblent le plus aux animaux.

Now that that is out of my system (yea right if you believe that...)

There is something to be said for falling in love. Or for being in love.

Obviously there is something to be said for it or else people wouldn't want it so badly, there wouldn't be so many silly love songs, and french wouldn't exist, but hey, I just thought I would remind everyone just this once...

So Mr. Awesomeness and I were talking, like we do, for about 5 hours two nights ago about everything and anything and the conversation of fading memories come up. No, I shall set the scene for those of you that are not familiar with this plot line, or for those of you that feel as closely as I do to all of this and it feels like forever has gone by, but I only just met the Brotehrs in September. I have seen them maybe less than a half a dozen times in my life and I am still completely in love with them. But, having only 5 or 6 nights of fun and frolicking with the four of them, I don't have a wealth of memories, just a few choice ones. Not that I have forgotten them completely, but remembering their exact features and dimensions is becoming an increasingly challenging obstacle. He noted the same thing, even though I sent him a b-e-a utiful senior picture. This morning , at around 2 am, I get this continuation to the conversation:

Text message from Mr.Awesomeness: "Hey I finally got that picture open... Wow."
Me: "Oh Yeah?"
Mr. A: "Not that i forgot what you looked like but... wow.... You're gorgeous... My Princess..."

Now I would like to take a moment right here to talk about pet names. While under normal circumstances I hate pet names and anyone calling my "princess" is probably being really petty or obnoxious, it was truly a moment just reading it from him. I dont' know what it is about this kid, but waking up from a nightmare, more than half asleep in my brothers bed, reding that message... I have never felt so... I don't even have a word for it... flattered? Special? Set-apart? Complemented? At any rate, it woke me up well enough. I don't know if he knows how many feelings little wordslike that can evoke... I'm not sure that I even fully understand it... but they do and they did and I am... Something.

So a few hundred text messages and some audio phone issues later we decided to cal it a night. Not out of necessity, mind you. Not becausewe didn't have a million thought provoking things to say. Not because we couldn't have spent 5 hours talking eachother into christmas morning...



I'll finish later, right now I have visions of sugarplums dancing in my head.... if you'll believe that...

I love this feeling. I love staying up until 2 in the morning, talking to him about nothing. I love sighing to fill the sleepy silence in that moment when both of us start to forget that we're on the phone and start imagining that we're right next to eachother. I love the feeling of falling into deep conversation about nothing and everything all at once. I love the way that I can hear in his voice when he winks and when he smiles and when he sighs to fill that moment where he really thinks about how I make him feel.





He might be l'un en dans un millon et digne de mon amour.

...about the way I want to live my life.

I was talking with my mom the other night about Mr.L and why we had to break up and the conversation went something like this:

Super Footwear Girl: Mom I had to break up with Mr.L

Mom: Why, what did you do?

SFG: Nohting mom, we just had a dissagreement and it's just not working

Mom: But why can't you work it out? He's so cute and he seems like a grat guy...

SFG: He is gorgeous and he is a great guy... He's just not for me...

(slight pause, an incredulous look from my mom)

Mom: What do you mean?

SFG: Haven't you ever been with someone you like but you know isn't 'The One?'

(another pause and a truly new expression comes across her face)

Mom: No, I never thought about it like that...


I don't want to waste my time anymore. I don't want to get stuck with someone I feel lukewarm about. I am worth more than that. I am worth the adoration I give to the men that I love. I am worth more than a faint caring. A pssive "go if you want, stay if you must" attitude. I am worth deep, committed, lasting, serious, everything at once love. I am worthy of an attentive and interested friend, lover, mate and partner. Who wants to be "tollerated" in a relationship?

Not this Superhero.

Now that the rant is over, I might actually indeavor to provide my patient readers with a good story. A story about a boy whom I might love.

The Eldest, who needs a name before I start, has racked up more phone time with me than any man alive and, to my complete surprise, he seems to enjoy every minute of it. Mr...Awesomeness is, as we speek, attempting to find ways to earn money with which to visit me. He wants to come visit me. He wants to call me up to talk about nothing and end up on the phone for 5 hours. He wants to play open ended games of 20 questions just to get to know me and he wants to cuddle and he wants to be near me. He wants to make a good impression on my mom and he wants to be my friend.

Then again, don't they all for the first week.

But I think this one really might work. He's smart and strong and capable and he sees right through me and he hears every silent sigh and catches every smile and keeps them for himself. Where he keeps them or if I'll ever get them back, I don't know.

I do know that I have found a new respect for Shakira..."Lucky you were born that far away so We could both make fun of distance Lucky that I love a foreign land for The lucky fact of your existence." While he doesn't live in Behruit, he's certainly not the boy-next-door.

Well... I have to get some sleep tonght... as if it's possible with him running around my brain all night

When one door closes...

Ok I know this will push me past flighty and straight on into psuedo-slut (for lack of a better word, trust me I tried...) but there's someone new.

Not new, necessarily. Just new to me.

No, not new to me. Just new to the realm of possible dating options.

So I have some back story that I just relaized I forgot to give you...

The week of my birthday, The Boys came into town to celebrate. We had an "All November Babies" blowout, with 6 birthdays and about 9 guests. The boys, Night owl, my roomate, Mr. Heartbreaker, Mr. Movie and myself all hunkered down at my roomate's 'rent's shack and utilized their hot tub for some maximum party pleasure. NO, think about that another way. If you know ANYTHING baout me, you know it wasn't quite a scene from the "Real World," but it did include a rousing game of 20 questions in which I can say I learned just enough about all the boys to more specifically direct my intentions and attentions.

Long story short, the night they left I cried my happy little eyes out. I can't really explain it now, but at the time I had no other reaction. It's surreal how quickly I feel like they are my oldest and dearest friends, but I do and I did.

So about a week later, the Eldest calls me up "just to shoot the breeze." (who would need a better reason?) He said something that caught my ear. Something along the lines of "I like you." Ironically enough, he was the reason I was crying the night they left. I could tell when they were here by the way his eyes lingered on me, the way he questioned me, the way he let me smile at him without turning away with shy embarrassment or complete indifference that there was something more than being my friend. Something more than thinking I was a nice enough girl.

Now of course though comes the dilemma. The conflict. The thing that makes my life a sitcom. The physical distance between us, this thing with the Phenomenal Mr.L which, while I am ending, will certainly leave me a little scarred, and the fact that try as I may, I can't figure him out. I can't crack him compltely. I'm picking up what he's throwing down, but I think he's only giving me half a story. Or I'm missing everyother card. For everytime he's intimated that he cares for me, he restrains my level of returning affections. For everytime he leans in a whispers sweet nothings, he pulls away from my mouth. (Proverbially speaking... talking on the phone makes this visual work a little differently.)

But I guess this is old news for me. The good old "How much will they tolerate my affection?" Game.

I don't know how I feel about that, but I certainly know how I feel about him.

Good, in case you were wondering...

Brokenheartsville is a lonely place, it's true.

But is not being broken hearted worth being with the wrong person?

In my first "big girl relationship" which lasted a total of 4 and a half whole weeks, including the "talking" stage, I have learned more about myself and the world than I ever thought I needed to know. I'll admit, up until now I have been painfully naive to how the real world and the relationships we encounter herein work. I thought that people met and either fell in love or didn't. I thought that people were either attracted to one another or weren't. I believed that there was some rhyme and some reason to how people seek eachother out and who makes the cut in each persons personal in crowd. I have discovered that there are so many more grey areas than I could have ever expected.

For instance, you can WANT to have sex with someone without being attracted to them. You can WANT to be with someone even though they have nothing you are looking for in a mate. You can LIKE someone with a twisted mix of sexual tension and sweet naive romantic desires without ever seeing them as someone you could LOVE.

I just never knew it was this complicated. I mean, I am the biggest advocate of complex thoughts and feelings that I know, but this... this is so much bigger than me. This level of confusion is so beyond what I have the capacity to even allow, let's not even assume that I could try to understand it. Becoming a nun would have solved all of these problems. Never feeling his kiss or listening to the soft sweet dreams he had to tell me could have saved my precious naivete.

But I suppose what is done is done. I can't get that ignorance back...

For Shame.

Tonights rant is about speech and when to utilize that portion of your brain's capacity.

It is never okay to talk to someone during a vulnerable and hectic moment in their life about their weight, their height or their make-up in a negative manner.

No one wants to here, in the middle of a kiss, "God, you could so stand to lose these love handles. I don't really love handling them..."

No one cares, in the middle of crying about how horrible their boss is, that you think they might want to invest in waterproof mascara to avoid unsightly under-eye darkening.

Just a friendly reminder from your neighborhood superhero...

So let's talk about not awakening love until the time is right...

If someone can't tell you that they love you, you shouldn't have sex with them.
If you're not attracted to someone, you shouldn't have sex with them.
If someone wants to wait until they are married to have sex or any type of sexual contact, you shouldn't have sex or sexual contact with them.

It just hurts so bad...

i know I haven't had much to say in a while but I am terrified of my blogspot.

I am terrified that whatever I say here is up for any kind of interpretation and I am terrified that anyone can pull it up at any moment and quote me on it. I think someone forgot to read me my miranda rights when i got hauled to court for the contents herein. but so goes my life.

I have found myself in an interesting predicament as of late. I am terrified of everyone.

I am terrified that my boss isn't satisfied with my work and I have lost all initiative concerning such because of my fear.

I am terrified of talking to anyone in my church because God forbid they see something in me that's off white. I am terrified they will see that I am a normal, flawed individual and that they will insist that I need "help."

I am beyond terrified of the Phenomenal Mr. L. TERRIFIED. He's gorgeous and older and more experienced and passionate and suddenly I don't hold any cards and he sees right through me and strips me down to my naked naivete without a second thought as to my modesty and awkwardness. I feel like such an idiot everytime I see him-- like I can't remember how to start a conversation-- believe me, the irony is so not lost on me...

I am just scared that every little thing I say here or anywhere will mean anything or everything or nothing and I'll have nothing left after everyone rapes me of my soul's essentials.

Can you see the dilemma du jour?

Oh jeez.

Mr. L.

Mr. L and his tiny dogs have kept me out late every night for a week solid. Actually, I feel like this thing…. this “relationship” has lasted forever already, but he kindly wished me a “Happy one-week Anniversary” last night. Now don’t get me wrong. Not forever in the sense that dental procedures or “Wuthering Heights” last forever. I mean like twilight sleep, Midsummer Nights Dream forever. I mean like classically, romantically, insanely, softly, sweetly, erratically forever. Not painfully, unfortunately, harmfully, tediously forever.

That makes about as much sense as I feel I make these days. He is just so...phenomenal. He insisted that if I use anything to describe him, in order to keep his reputation intact, it must be the word “phenomenal.” I am having such a hard time recalling anything that has not fallen past his lips in the past week, so phenomenal it is. I can’t place what it is about him and I can’t think of a name for the way I feel and I am pretty sure that I have no idea how he feels or if his feelings even matter, but I know I would rather be with him then, oh I don’t know, get some work done at the office or catch some zzz’s here and there.

Last night we talked about what we want for christmas. To be honest and I hope no one will fault me for the sappiness factor of the next couple of words but I have what I want. All I've ever wanted for christmas is someone who genuinely enjoys my attentions and affections as much as I do theirs and I think I finally found it. Or it found me. Or the magical kismet of how we met found us. I don't know. Two people, completely unrelated, having no other possible connection and just finding eachother...

Ok, I fault MYSELF for being that sappy...

I'm at work so i can't talk long I just had to say somrthing- ANYTHING- about Mr. L before I explode, or implode, or upload, or unload, or forbode.

Mr. L is the newest character on L- TV in a long while. Completely unrelated to any other lifeline as yet mentioned in this here blogspot wonder, Mr. L is Mr. Amazing. I met him.... well I won't tell you how I met him. He's... a little bit older than I am and the only reason I even approached him was because he is b-e-a-utiful and I thought "eh, This kid will never talk to me... no harm in telling him he's hott."

And then he talked to me. And it's been all dowhill from there. Downhill as in I am on a roller coaster heading down the biggest, most climactic, most exhilirating, craziest jump of my life... and loving every second of it.

I have to say, we have this much in common---> * But he's gorgeous and funny and he talks to me and he's just... amazing....

Well so much for that five minutes break. Catch you all later.

Apparently i have decided that I am an android and i shall never need sleep again...

Last week i was swamped- between Footwear, cupcakes, cookies, and Big Girl duties, I slept LITERALLY 20 hours all week. THIS week, my happy butt thought it would be a great idea to take on 27 catering jobs, start another business, be a Big Girl and try to marry one of The Boys. Saturday night and last night i rolled in at 2 in the morning, like I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO AT 2 IN THE MORNING. "That peace that sleep begets" hath not touched my soul in almost a month and I am feelin it lemme tell you. I keep telling myself to just push through one more frantic night of baking, flirting or planning and then I'll take a break, but do I?

No. That would be SANE.

Off to do more work. Writing this blog entry just robbedme of 3 and a half minutes of sleep.

Whatever happened to the Voicebox?

The newest love of my life and I are listening to Bon Jovi, and I sit here, pondering...

Whatever happened to the voicebox? You know that generic WEE--OOOW-OOOWA that Richie Sambora in Bon Jovi would do by singing into a "box" attached to his mic? What ever happened to that technology? That IS what made Bon Jovi awesome and now.... nothing. Noone else has realized the gold theat is the Bon Jovi WEEE-OOWW and I want to know why....

The new love of my life by the way is my iPod. It's not just any iPod, mind you. It is a video iPod. Or what I would like to call, "The High king of all iPodium."

That last statement was proof positive that I am in need of some major zzz's.

TWO DAYS TILL NINETEEN EATS ME!!!
AHHHH

The best kid ever: Adhesives Research

ME: like post-it notes

TBKE: ...no

TBKE: but close

TBKE: and when I say close I mean not even close

ME: ok... so what do you do

TBKE: I'll be a chemical mixer

ME: mixing the stuff that goes on the back of post-it notes?

TBKE: Yeah

Me: Really?

TBKE: NO!

I would like to say that i have nothing to say about anyone. Just this once I have no gossip, anger, rumor or truth to spread, feel, share or intimate about anyone in my life.

Don't get used to it.

In fact, if you know me well enough, you know that this is about someone....

FINALLY! MY USE OF THE WORDS "SHOES" AND "FOOTWEAR" HAVE COME IN HANDY!!

In case you all are wondering where today reandom thought is coming from, I'll let you in on a ittel secret: It is absolutely un-random. The last comment left on my blog was from an annonymous reader say that they had entered "Croc shoe... Something" Into Google and UP POPPED MY WEBSITE! While I feel bad that they found absolutely no useful information about crocs here, i am also severly tempted to list every name of a shoe that someone might attempt to key word search in order to whip up some new readers. While I love my 4 person standard fan base, you all leave entirely too fee comments. I need more love...


Well back to the grind

...about silence.

I wish everyone would just stop talking. I do not understand why I suddenly became a star over night, but I know for a fact that I did not order the optional tabloid treatment when i checked the "Yes" box on my awesome application. But since I am a star, I think I should atleast get paid. As it is now, all I'm getting is judged.

In case you were wondering as towhat I am specifically referring; it is everything. Everybody, everything, all the time. I feel like there is an L TV Station. "L all the time: Interactive and in color!"


It would be super nice if everyone could chill that.

Like ice cream fillin....

The big girl job.

I don't know that I actualy told any of you kids about it but since you know about it i will share some of my joy with you about my Big Girl job.

First off, let me start by saying how glorious it is to be OUT OUT OUT of retail... or atleat how glorious it WILL be when my two weeks is up. Anyone looking to have the desire to kill themselves or atleast rip apart some kids stuffed annimal, call 1-800-footwear and take my job.

My job title is "Marketing Coordinator" and I work for a tiny company that is doing amazingly large things with the federal government. HUH-- what? oh my, how embarassing.... anywho, it is a pretty exciting job and I work for a very.... exciting lady so I can't really complain..... other than this one teeny thing.

My office is temporarily in an internet studio. Cute, quiet and comfortably small, some designing idiot decided it would be really "sweet" and "totally kickin'" if they put in those tiny, scalding hot bulbs that simulate sun shine inside of sellariums. So here I am, tickity tackin on my pc, happy as a clam at the clam bake, roastin and toasting the last tiny bit of my youth away.... charming, int' it?

Aside from that, nothing too new to report. Guess you all will just have to amuse yourselves with this little open game:

What should my new alias be since I can no longer be called "Super Footwear Girl?"

Leave your commments and take you monkeys ;)

SO my big-girl boss told me to take a five minute break before the launching of my first event so i am blogging. Sick, I know. All I wanted to say is thanks to whoever says congrats about my job and boo to those who don't say anything. Have you any souls?

lol... talk to you guys on the weekend when I'm not working at my big girl job... :)

PS. This website was not designed wit hthe intention of informing people about the sacred and misunerstood art of Kare-a-tea. Please, do not regard me as a guru on marshal arts. Cause I'm not...