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?