Bore Me.

thebeave: i've learned that I'm not funny to dumb people
thebeave: so evidently my shit is deep
thebeave: or so shallow it seems deep
mind: a shame that your awareness of yourself ruines how fucking charming you really are.

but it doesn't, really, though. it makes the charm flawed. human. even more appealing.

thebeave: when they teach you to analyze everything around you, eventually you turn the attention to yourself
mind: only the smart ones.
thebeave: i'm fully aware of my faults
thebeave: i just don't think they're as bad as everyone else's
mind: lol

see. he knows. flawed and so. fucking. powerful.

mind: i think it might be better to say something like "i know my faults... i just don't let them hold me back from all my good shit"
mind: but then again
mind: maybe you like sounding arrogant.

yeah he does.

thebeave: i wouldn't say something like that
mind: heh.
thebeave: and if I did I wouldn't be me
mind: fair enough
mind: because being yourself is way more crucial than any matter of political or social correctness.
thebeave: To thyne own self be true.
mind: werd.


thebeave: yes I quote shakespeare lines that are as common as a can of Comet under the kitchen sink, but that's because he had 3 good plays and the rest were rinse and repeats
mind: you don't hafta be original or obscure to prove a point.
thebeave: i'm neither
mind: me either.
thebeave: i say the shit that most everyone thinks, but won't say in public, at church or around small children
thebeave: i mean everyone wants to take their boss hostage for ransom
thebeave: i'm just the guy that goes ahead and starts cutting the letters out of the magazine
mind: you know how powerful that makes you though
mind: actions are so much more than feelings or thoughts
thebeave: nah it makes me another loud mouth spouting garbage over the internet
thebeave: but
thebeave: nah no buts
thebeave: that's pathetic enough on it's own
mind: i dont buy it
mind: stop tryin to downplay it
mind: we can smell our own.
thebeave: yeah but our own sniffs the ass of the ones better than us
mind: its not about how good we are
mind: it's just that we are.


thebeave: it's just sad
thebeave: that I can't worship myself
mind: lol
mind: you do in a way, though.
thebeave: i long to follow a god like myself
mind: you already do
thebeave: that's the most profoundly arrogant statement ever uttered
mind: are you having a moment?
thebeave: nah i'm full of sashimi, sake and some stankin ass white rhino
mind: yeah
mind: yer havin a moment

yep. that's all you had to say. i'm done with you. you are way too into all of the glorious things that have yet to spew out of your mouth to really even need me in the mix.

thebeave: take this down for me
mind: but
thebeave: profoundly arrogant dialog about the supreme greatness of me
mind: yer typing
mind: it's already down
thebeave: just remind me
thebeave: i can't write it now
mind: do i get paid to do this

because really. engaging in these conversations with the same charming boys, with the same big dreams and the same lack of motivation... they have lost their spark. i don't get the high off of these exchanges anymore.

their words don't mean anything if the fire isn't also in their movements. their hands. in every choice they make in every challenge they create for themselves.

slack-ass dreaming is for punk teenagers and college kids with too much time on their hands. i've got too much shit to do to sit around in this circle jerk of self-importance.

That IS Perfect!

babyface: you have a voice fetish
starz: no no
starz: not his actual voice, retard
starz: his writing voice
babyface: ah
starz: i have a WORD fetish.
babyface: lol
starz: fuck me that's the perfect way to describe it.
babyface: fuck you? k
starz: see... that right there
starz: that's where you totally lost me.
babyface: lol
starz: a shame, really.

Today's Comments: #1

I don't know why this had never occurred to me before. The writing we leave for each other, responding to the words we attempt to digest... this is some of the best stuff that our fingertips bestow upon our keyboards. It is about time I kept track of it.

On Solitude...

"That’s the best part about life: it isn’t one state of being. It changes constantly. Sometimes we can be solitary… sometimes we can be surrounded.

In the same light, the hopes and the fears are allowed to co-exist.

Thank god."

In the making...

I haven't visited that sexy bitch in quite a while...

But I'm glad I did tonight.

"i don't make mistakes
my mistakes make me"

I'm sorry... I couldn't hear you.

My brother, Nugs, turned 21 on sunday. I had the pleasure of serving him his first legal beer. We went with a Yuengling... because it's safe. Then I slipped some Captain Morgan in his coke. Heh.

Good Lord, he frustrates me so. Our relationship goes up and down and back and forth but I can't tell if I'm happy that no matter what... I know that we can count on each other when it really counts. I'd kinda like to be able to count on him when it doesn't really count too.

He tells me things that I already know... but somehow seem to perpetually forget. Especially when looking at my own situations. Advice that I have given him, almost verbatim, somehow ends up coming back across the net at me. He's a quick learner like that... little bastard.

Tonight we ate mac and cheese and talked about boys.

"You aren't finding the right ones."
"The right ones don't pay any attention to me."
"I do."
"But I can't date you, Nugs."

I want to tell him that he's wrong and that he doesn't understand. I want to make excuses for these boys who hurt me so. I want to justify my current lack of emotional maturity. I want to explain away how I've let myself become attached to things that are less than what I want.

But he's right. It doesn't matter if they love or care about me, because they don't know how to be the kind of men I deserve. I shouldn't care if they love me. I should care if they can stand up, be fucking men, and treat people how they deserve to be treated... whether they love them or not.

Professor Dumbledore said something very important to me today.

"Very soon we are all going to have to choose.
Between what is easy.
And what is right."

This sort of thing isn't easy. Not only admitting that you made a mistake, but that you made the same mistake twice, and that you feel so comfortable in this mess that part of you doesn't really want to clean it up anyway.

I have this thing about telling the fucking truth... even when it hurts. ESPECIALLY when it hurts. I do it. My man should do it too. How else can we have the open and honest relationship that I am looking for? We can't.

Love is not exactly what I'm looking for anymore. I've found it. I've felt it. I still do... especially at weird points in the day when someone does something that reminds me of someone that did something and my heart explodes in my chest and I can't knock the grin off my face. Yeah. The feelings I have learned to recognize. Cultivate. Cherish.

The words of my ex, Bubba, are ringing in my ears again:

"Feelings will always be there no matter what...
it's what you do with those feelings that counts"

Actions are louder than words and right now I feel like I'm the only one making any noise. But I guess that's okay... because I kinda like my voice AND songs that I sing. I'm determined to be a class act... even if it's always a solo.

Better Late Than Never...

Fuzzy: i got watery eyed the first time i heard you sing at O's.
Starz: yer gonna make me cry
Fuzzy: no, you made ME cry.
Fuzzy: i dont why i never told you that before. but i was sitting there on the side of the stage. within fifteen seconds, i was looking at everything underwater. i think that means it was good.
Starz: :-)
Starz: thanx doode
Fuzzy: you are welcome.

I Want to Thank You For Not Being Afraid:

This fear that he has. It makes me so aware and thankful for myself. For being me. For not haboring it at all anymore. I used to be afraid of everything. I still am, really.

The fear is always there.

Of failure.
Rejection.
Disappointment.

But somehow... I have managed to take all of that, accepting and welcoming the uncertainty into my arms... and it just makes me fly. I want to experience all of what is real and true and supposed to be coming my way. I don't ever want to hide from how I feel now. All of this fear that used to stop me in my tracks really does drive me to be honest and to go for what I want.

And god lord, do I want him.

There is no game to win here for me. Competition, comparison or even bragging rights doesn't play the slightest part in my heart anymore.

I just know that he compliments me. I know that I can't get enough of him. I know that revel in all of the drama and what not because, it's so real. He is so real.

The most genuine and powerful feelings I have ever had in my entire life. And I'll be damned if I don't get to share them with him.

You don't have to get out of my way. I won't push you. I'll just go around you.

Whether I get him at all, in the end or the beginning or even just a part of the middle... I know I'll be okay because I am finally so excited and so ready. So ready to ride this rollercoaster. Even if I don't have anyone sitting next to me on it.

Fecal Matters.

On 3 hours of sleep, I made $30 today during my entire 6 hour shift. And yeah. It gets worse. I was constipated the whole time. There was shit all over me, yet none of it was coming OUT of me.

I'm guessing the lack of action was because of the rain, but word may have gotten around that I was experiencing digestional difficulties, causing a city-wide panic that at any moment I would blow, maybe even all over their chicken friend chicken (that was the $7.99 special today). But at least it was a quick crowd. If you can call 6 tables a crowd, and split between two people that's just not enough business to make it worth our while.

Well... it wouldn't be if the servers weren't myself and my musical cohort. From around 1:30pm until my shift ended at 4pm, we rocked out in the dining room. Something happened.

One of the songs that we had just started messing around with... it just all of a sudden clicked. I closed my eyes and belted out the lyrics like I've never done before. More powerful than even when I sang along in the car. It just fit together... her guitar and my voice.

I don't even know how to explain it. Well, yeah I do. It felt like I had taken the massive shit that was awaiting me, simultaneously experiencing the most intense orgasm imaginable.

Lately things like this have been happening every day, but tonight I can almost feel the energy going back down, even dipping below the normal levels of my semi-charmed existence.

Pardon me, but the porcelain goddess awaits my arrival. I have quite the gift to give her.

The End Of An Era

Where have you been?
I've been waiting so long to hear from you.
And all the things that we said we would do
Remains to be plans of the past.

We've been, we've been too quiet for too long.
Where is, where is the hope we once had?
It's too late to be saved by your charm,
We'll never get this right.

Your words are cold, and the season is too,
The comfort in your voice is gone.
Don't keep in touch, I'm better off all alone
You've lost everything that I've loved.

So is it worth this time?
Am I done in your mind?
Will I regret once you're gone?
Why did I ever think that we would, we would be good?

We've been, we've been too quiet for too long.
Where is, where is the hope we once had?
It's too late to be saved by your charm,
We'll never get this right.

Well alright, I'm sorry I even tried.
I was a fool to have hope in you, in you.

Tennis Court Soundtrack
by Daphne Loves Derby


It was fun... but not really. And I look forward to not missing you. I love you, fuzziface. Thank you for every misguided second of it.

4...

The male lead is a bit more of an issue for me in this whole writing process thing. There are quite a few ways I can go with this:

1. The man is everything I think I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but through some tragic circumstance we are kept from being together.

2. The man is everything I think I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but through some tragic circumstance I realize that there is more to love and relationships than a shopping cart list of qualities I think would make me happy.

3. The man is everything I think I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but through some tragic circumstance I end up being less than everything HE is looking for in a romantic counterpart and he doesn’t want to be with me.

4. The man is less than everything I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but I feel so sorry and attached to his potential that I keep trying to fix him and help him realize his true self worth and then when it doesn’t work I eventually get bored and go on searching for someone who is already what I am looking for.

5. The man is less than everything I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but I feel so sorry and attached to his potential that I keep trying to fix him and help him realize his true self worth and then when he finally does, he realized that I am less than everything he is looking for in a romantic counterpart and doesn’t want to be with me.

6. The man is less than everything I am looking for in a romantic counterpart but I am afraid of being alone so I try to fool myself and through tragic circumstances am perpetually hurt, left restless and eventually get smart enough to realize that I would rather be alone than settle for a relationship that only sometimes leaves me satisfied.

... you get the idea.

3...

* In a last-minute attempt to maybe get you all to shut the doors, lock up and leave... because, like I said, this whole thing is a waste of your time... I'll describe the female character first.

Ahem.

The female character is... me. It's doesn't take much of a brain to figure that one out. All of us writers are very self-centered, and are very aware of our own little slice of the universe. We think that it is always about us. And well... it is.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, no matter how many parents or teachers or people in your life may scold you for thinking primarily of your own needs. But that is an argument for another day.

The problem with casting myself in a lead role is that the character was not designed in the hopes of creating a blockbuster movie. NO fancy actress has been hired to play "her" (however, if Kate Winslet and Clare Daines are still alive and available when and if this gets published and made into a Lifetime, made for TV movie, please give them a call).

Just consider this:
You're sitting here, reading a chick book, by definition, because I am a chick and this is a story about me. And well... I'm not frighteningly hot and I don't even end up with the guy anyway.

If I was slick, urban and pulp fiction savvy, I could have woven some surprise revealing of myself as not only the narrator, but the female involved... but that takes way too much effort on my part. So there, you don't have plot progression to get excited about either.

This would so be a crappy date movie. If any males out there actually decide to take their girlfriend out to see this, I feel sorry for them. Especially since she'll be laughing in your general direction by the end of it and probably won't ever want to see you again. So like I said before... this is not only a waste, but an unproductive use of your time.

2...

So. You're still here, I see. I mean, you turned the page. I don't know where exactly your particular "here" is, but I know that my words are there with you. So I guess, to correct myself in a rather long-winded fashion... I am still here. And now, it's your own damn fault- you cannot get mad at me. I TOLD you. And despite that, you have chosen to waste your own time with this story.

Unless, of course, you aren't looking for something extraordinary...

If that is the case, you have come to the right place. Although, I will remain skeptical because most of us are... looking for something extraordinary, that is.

A friend of mine once told me that "anything less than extraordinary wasn't worth his time." But I betcha that smart ass is still reading too. It just goes to show you... even when you try to warn people- when you just lay it all out on the table. They STILL manage to stay around and fuck it all up.

Getting back to our story... that's exactly what our two main characters did. They stayed around. And they fucked it all up.

1...

There is nothing extraordinary about this story. Nothing new. Nothing that you haven't heard before. There's always a guy. And a girl. And in the end... they either end up together... or they don't.

In most of our tales, they usually do. But in this one.... in this one they don't. And just remember that I told you that, okay? Now- in the beginning. I have taken away all question, here. All mystery. Any ground to have high hopes built upon or notions to be optimistic about have been removed. All of that idealistic, romantical crap is gone.

You KNOW that they don't end up together.

It's that time of year again...

nanowrimo is here again.

This will be my third frickin' year attempting to even participate, let alone actually complete the task. In previous tries, life has just gotten in the way of my writing (much like it has in regards to me updating this site), but I am determined to fight this time around.

There are no excuses: Guard season is almost over, I am not taking any classes, and there are no unhealthy, obsessive "he's" around to distract me. At least... I'm working on that last one. Having this to focus on will surely help me along in the process.

My goal is, at minimum, to produce the 50,000 words in whatever medium I happen to be investing time into throughout the month of November. Whether that be separate posts for this site, TJNR, The Black & White or my poetry... I don't care. I just want to know that I can produce that much. 1,667 words a day, folks.

I would ask you to wish me luck... but that's not what I need. Luck I have... it's unforgiving motivation that I'm lacking.

this weekend was absolutely perfect. even the rain.

... especially the rain.

drive.

pink, plastic, tulip petals
peel back candy-coated olympic medals

marking silver, second place procrastination
in this race we almost win
but always lose

it's perpetual
never-ending
impossible to come in last

but this is the last time
i'll be able to let you look at me like that

highway speeds
leave windows down and hopes up

and bitter-proof seat belts
hold hasty second-thoughts at bay

100 miles per hour away

... i used to get car sick in this sort of thing.

Choose Life.

Tonight I watched trainspotting with Fuzzy. I know, I'm a few years behind. Shut up.

The acting was acceptable. The accents were a turn on. The going through withdrawal scene was kinda freaky. The ending was cute. That monologue is stellar. It kept me entertained. It kept me guessing. It was "well done," whatever the fuck that means... but that's really about it.

Thought-provoking? Yes it was, but for the "wrong" reasons. No, it didn't make me hate society and the cookie-cutter lives most people live any more than I already do. No, it didn't make me want or not want to do hard drugs any more than I already do or don't. No, it didn't make me really think about what I'm doing with my life and what exactly IS important to me.

It did get me thinking that I really must be getting bored with movies that romanticize the FUCK out of drug use. And violence. And, oh, I dunno... love and sex too. Since we're making a list now, let me put pop culture and the lives of the rich and fabulous on there too.

The film may have been revolutionary for its time and rock a killer soundtrack, but come off it. I'm not going to live as a junkie and I'm not going to live as suburban zombie. There's something more than these extremes (that we constantly rewrite with slightly different interpretations) out there. There has to be. And I guess those that do actually find it don't need to make a fucking movie about it.

Stop Slacking, Elizabeth!!

Sigh.

I really do irritate myself. I talk such a good game and then don't follow through with half the crap I really want to do.

However... I do have news about everything else that's going on:

Band Camp went really well.
My girls had their first parade on Monday, and they are doing such a great job. Our first half-time performance is on Friday night and I'm uber excited. I've been designing and sewing the flags myself for the first piece, and could not be more proud. Sewing was one form of creative expression that I've never really dabbled in, and I'm not going to lie... I am really diggin' it. I wonder where I can get my hands on a sewing machine. I'd love to get crafty with my room and my clothes and stuff.

TJNR is pumpin.
I've managed to get out of my posting funk over there (finally!!), and some things are changing to make the whole site a lot more appealing.

Among Starz is almost ready to be released.
Mister Web Designer Man and I have been working pretty hard to get my personal site back up. He is doing such a great job with the design, I can't be too mad about how long it's taken. Please check out the link to the right and lemme know what you think of it so far.

We are now in stage one of The Black & White.
You should all check your email and get back to me on that... Ewee, I don't even HAVE your email addy, so if you can get that for me, that would rock solid.

So while this site is pretty dry on my end, make no mistake... I am still pumpin.

just sick of waiting.

it's been over a month since my site was taken down over at the black and white. i have been waiting to get the new address, among starz all put together and ready to unleash to the masses, but you'll notice that niether of these links actually work right now... and it's time for me to stop waiting for things to fall into place. my writing is suffering because of it- mainly in the fact that i'm not writing anything.

so for now, this is where i will be... but i hope not for long.

Jasimare01: I am sorry things are poopy
AmngStarz: they arent
AmngStarz: things are good
Jasimare01: ok captain happy
AmngStarz: the plan is way better now that it doesnt involve any sort of codependency
AmngStarz: im serious
AmngStarz: this is karma's way of helping me clean house before i move
AmngStarz: so i can focus
AmngStarz: on me
AmngStarz: and my dreams
Jasimare01: ok well then I am happy for you
AmngStarz: the sting... as much as i hate it... will drive me
Jasimare01: I hope it does
AmngStarz: tragic optimism
AmngStarz: its kinda pathetic

am i co-dependent?

Just do your thing
If it makes you feel better
Go on and sing
If it makes you feel better

funny how true this hits me right now
i feel absolutely worthless
but belting my words out loud
it's gonna help me through this

Shufflin' feet
Snuck up on me now
This young man's lost his way
He don't believe
All the stuff they told him
He's caught up in the fray

tangled up in this sub plot of a mess
read between the lines and find bold, black and white text
plainly stating
that you've been procrastinating

He said I've got this great big
Bag full of dreams
And I don't know what to do

i've wanted so much for so long
still finding all sorts of excuses
blaming my circumstances
begging for second chances
with maybes, whatevers and no uses

I said a wise man gave me
The key to life
And now I give it to you

i can't believe i thought i could trust any of you
like you'd treat my dreams as if they were your own
like they mattered at all
i thought connections like these were far between and few
but i'm done letting all that apathy bring me down
i've got no further to fall

And I said
Just do your thing
If it makes you feel better

forget honesty
forget all about me
you can go your way and i'll go mine
somehow i don't doubt that you'll end up lagging behind

You're running that race
A little bit faster now
Towards your finish lines
Such a disgrace

i can't believe
you wanted to play this game with me
you knew this back when it was time to begin
that even when i lose i'm still gonna win

You missed all the beautiful
You can't buy back the time

and i know you don't really care
but fuck, i'm just so, so scared

cause all i want is to make somethin beautiful
to see something beautiful
to be a part of something real
cause that's what's beautiful

So stop and love
And dance and live
And laugh until you cry
Don't wake up to realize that
Your time has passed you by

i realize now that i,
i've spent too much time
worrying about everybody else
working for anything-
and everything
except myself

Just do your thing
If it makes you feel better
Go on and sing
If it makes you feel better

my thing will have nothing to do with you ever again

never again
will i waste my honesty
on all of your lies

you can cling to your fears if you want to
but to your heart and your soul... you must be true

this heart says my love is true
but this soul says it doesn't matter cause i don't need you...

my morning mess

shoes on but not tied
hair washed but not dried
pants pulled up but shirt nowhere to be found
and this one blasted word, playing in repetition,
serving as my only sound

hi.

hi.

hi.

this is silly
stupid
a cycle i am just about to begin again
where nothing but more longing and frustration are produced
but that idealistic retard inside me just keeps saying, liz!!

... this one will be different.

Why Can't It Be Like The First Week?

Everything seems so much more exciting and meaningful when it is new. Fresh and unknown. Unraveling the center of a rosebud one gorgeous petal at a time.

Why do I believe everything to be so pure and genuine just because I don't know all the details yet?

People have warned me. Warned me that we are all damaged. That the only things hiding inside those petals are secrets that just smash any picture of the perfect rose all to pieces.
And I have learned, from my own experiences, that the only thing I can count on in regards to something new is that it won't be a smidge like how I hope it will be.

I don't mean that in a pessimistic sort of way. Just an honest way. Intentions, expectations; they just cloud reality and make these scarlet ideals that much harder to grasp.

Nothing in my life is new. The house. The family drama. The complications with colorguard. The "I want him to like me for the special and unique snowflake that I am" drama at work. The perpetual unsatisfaction with the males in my life. The almost being a writer. The dirty laundry from a wardrobe I've had the majority of since college. Even the discussions I have over coffee with people I thought I'd left behind.

Maybe that's why I just have to keep jumping. Keep changing it all. To somehow sustain this illusion that ignorance can coat my eyes and my heart in. This illusion that life and love are so much more than boring old repetition. That someday, something will take my breath away when all the petals fall off...

and it'll be just perfect in that imperfect way.

counting down the days...

this is what dreamers do
leave their boring lives-
just pick up and move

risk it all
on some far off city view
where all our dreams-
our visions
are supposed to
come true

most of the songs are written about california. leave the east coast. become a surfer or something.

but see... my california is boston.

yep. boston, massachusetts... home of the red sox.

the nation's second most expensive city to live in.

i know, i know... boy, can i pick 'em! but that part of the challenge is not the point.

the countdown has begun.

i'm about 3 weeks into this adventure... and just really starting to internalize what i'm actually planning on doing.

in may of 2006. i'm moving to boston.

shit. i just typed it out for the first time. i just made it real. made it tangible. provable. made it possible to think that i might come back to this blog sometime later in my life and know that i failed or chickened out.

no no. positive thoughts. baby steps. but oh i'm all goose-bumpy now and i seriously cannot wait.

...here i am, though:

counting down the days.

a friendly reminder:

i'm still doing this twilight thing. it's really neat, really eye opening and i think that shenry and i are doing phenomenal jobs.

but i just get the feeling that no one is even noticing... let alone commenting or joining in the fun.

please change that.

the emergency broadcasting system

this is a test.

blogger is making it easy for us sillyfaces to share our crappy pictures with the world.

hence... another picture of my feet. in slippers. yay.

get ready for it ...

because the switch is a comin'.

on mediocre bands that play boring concerts:

"i'd rather produce something lame than never produce anything at all."

"everything is a self-portrait"

she's a modern devil
with a hard-top convertible halo
that she brings out for cocktail parties
... and sunday brunch

he sits next to her
on the passenger side
and she's always assumed
that he was just along for the ride

and if right is correct
then her hand is left
... to be wrong

but she rocks the boat anyway
because she likes to feel like
... she's moving

and when you're moving
it's easy to pretend
that the direction
you're headed in
... is forward.

he still thinks
that he's a lucky guy
watching her in pat-n-leather
shedding all those peacock feathers

but then again
what does luck
have to do
with anything?

never mistake the moon
for a ray of light
but sometimes, i guess... we all are fooled
by reflections late at night

i'm almost certain...

that other people exist just so we can keep our own hopes and dreams alive

and the world will live as one

tina is right... little signs are everywhere:

today at the pub, that very song she quotes in her post was played multiple times over my 6 hour shift. no one ever picks it off of the jukebox. ever.

... except today.

my dentist and i are really starting to bond.

today he got his finger stuck on one of the pointy things he had sticking out of my tooth. neither of us made it out of this session without shedding blood.

with only three more appointments to go... i'm thinking i should make him a mixed cd or something nice before our infatuation period is over. seriously... the man always leaves me tingling.

novocaine wearing off is the almost the coolest feeling in the world- second only to the vibrations of a drill against your face.

time to pop a half-dozen advil before the numbness and tingles are replaced with searing pain. work will be quite fun today...

i hope i drool on someone's plate.

baby steps...

all four blogs are set up and rollin'.

you have no idea how much this makes me giggle uncontrollably... yet want to go hide under my covers all at the same time.

here comes the hard part, folks: the content.

we each have to ride this initial burst of excitement as long as humanly possible. ramble on just for the sake of rambling. type it all up even when you really don't have anything to say. leave comments. post responses. come up with challenges for yourself and the rest of us.

set this bar higher than you can reach and then don't stop jumping, stretching and piling up anything you can stand on to try and touch it.

keep.moving.keep.bleeding.keep.the.dream.alive.

the fuzzy panda bear is right.

i won't be able to fall in love with anyone else until i am in love with my self. it really isn't enough to front like it... i really have to feel it.

every night it's another dramatic conclusion that contradicts the one from the night before. yet every night i go to sleep excited and full of anticipation on what tomorrow night's will be.

something tells me that this is what life is supposed to be like... and i've just now figured that out.

on time ... and how much we need.

AmngStarz: i think it takes approximately 4 minutes to fall in love.
jamesaddicshun: hahahahahha
jamesaddicshun: probably
jamesaddicshun: its the rest of the time spent either rationalizing it or pushing it away
AmngStarz: 1 minute for phermonal/sexual attraction
AmngStarz: 1 minute for chemistry and connection through body language
AmngStarz: 1 minute for social/mental exchange through eye contact
AmngStarz: 59 seconds to get scared
AmngStarz: 1 second to say "hi"

word of the morning:

quix·ot·ic (kwk-stk) adj.

1. Caught up in the romance of noble deeds and the pursuit of unreachable goals; idealistic without regard to practicality.
2. Capricious; impulsive: “At worst his scruples must have been quixotic, not malicious” (Louis Auchincloss).

[From English Quixote, a visionary, after Don Quixote, hero of a romance by Miguel de Cervantes.]

stone get's credit for this one. it's absolutely perfect. sheesh!!

oh it's just bloody BRILLIANT!!!

i'm so flipping excited.

life is gorgeous right now... and i love how it always seems to take this turn upward after a period of poopiness. growth, change and life really do develop out of stagnancy, fear and death.

i want to share all of it with you folks out here in internet land- i really do. but sometimes my writing just can't do it justice... and i won't lie- i've been really busy and uninterested in typing up journal entries.

not spending even an hour in front of the computer every day has been very liberating. that, along with not spending hours on the phone every night, has helped me let go of a lot of self-perpetuated depression.

possibility in itself has truly become the love of my life... and right now my horizon is full of it.

changing the focus of my hopes and ideals from that of love and relationships to that of self-exploration, creation and discovery... that has put me in control of my destiny. that has finally given me the permission i have been denying myself since adolescence to really live the way i want to.

moment by moment. day by day. my journey now has direction and purpose and i can't wait to meet my ever-changing and developing challenges for myself head on.

there is no better place to start...

then right smack in the middle of things.

now, i know that upon first read-through that might not make too much sense.

scientific fact tells us that the brain is most likely to remember the beginning and the end of any series or experience (the serial position effect is how educated people refer to this phenomenon).

but if we relate this to real life (and smaller words)... lists, movies, trips, books, songs, relationships, sports games... even life in general is always about the birth and the death. the first and the last.

why is it, exactly, that we don't seem to recognize the importance of the middle? it all just gets lumped together and overlooked. first speculated and then summarized.

come on, people!! the process... the journey... that's where all the good stuff really happens. and knowing that we aren't hot-wired to stop and take note of all of these moments of the in-between... it's going to take a lot effort on our parts to really appreciate and grow to understand their significance.

... consequently

i will not set the scene. i won't even introduce the characters. it doesn't matter who we are or how we got here. and "here" isn't that vital either.

what does matter is that we are all dedicating our lives to the arts. to self-discovery through expression and creation.

and well... we want to share our journeys with each other, and with you.

no matter how the stories began... or how they might end.

words from the gut:

i honestly don't know what i am more upset about... the fact that it is over... or the fact that i called that shit from the beginning and managed to fool myself into thinking that i was wrong.

that i actually chose a fantasy world that i knew deep down would never exist... i CHOSE it. i said "please, come tear my heart and and make me more disillusioned. i'll like it. i swear."

and i did.

i adored every make-believe second of it.

such an idiot. fuck me.

surprisingly accurate...

SoleiLuna23: dude
SoleiLuna23: I envision you (if you were an inanimate object) to be a big desk
AmngStarz: ....?
SoleiLuna23: with papers and files and notes and messages and junk all over it
AmngStarz: lol
AmngStarz: thanx.
SoleiLuna23: haphazardly thrown down, chaotic
SoleiLuna23: yeah

i wonder if dawn has any idea how big a compliment she was giving me. hehe.

verse.

still hanging on to the possibility
it's not you and it's definitely not me-
i'm just still in love with what could be.

we are all creatures of habit.

i was doing really well until the sun went down and the pay per minute switched to unlimited nights. i was still doing well until i got out of my closing shift to first cut, finding myself at 8pm with nothing to do for the majority of the evening. i was just ok when i went over to their house for dinner. i was hanging on when i checked the messages and knew i needed to make a cameo at the pub again. i was dillusionally fine after the beer and the impending triangle of lust/doom. i was bitter when i looked at my phone to see no "missed call", but felt safe during the first half of the movie.

i wasn't ok when i realized this wasn't so safe at all.

fuck it- you know what?

all of this shit may make for good stories and good drama and may serve as muse and inspiration for wistful and longing poetry and lyrics that everyone fucking knows i'll never be confident enough to sing... but IT'S JUST NOT ENOUGH.

the first day in three months.

i'm still alive, yes. still functional. more so, even. do i just miss him because of the habit? the comfort? am i going through withdrawal?

do you need to rebound from an imaginary boyfriend?

pushing away, quite literally, the man of your dreams... i never thought i'd actually have to do that shit.

so unhealthy. so retarded. and for what? for fingers never felt, lips never kissed, sex never smelled, time never spent, memories never made and promises never kept?

why am i constantly denied the reality of this love that i dream?

some say it doesn't exist. others swear by it. but i don't want a third opinion. i don't even want my opinion on it.

i just want his.

maybe i thought that i couldn't give up all of this trivial crap i managed to get sick of again ALL IN ONE PIG FUCK of a day.

i don't want this back. but i don't want what i had with him back. i don't want to fall into my same old habits again just because they are there and i'm so brilliantly good at them.

i don't want to go back to the waiting. the crying. the needing.

but you know what's the worst part of it all, my loves? what makes me feel so helpless?

no matter what choice i make... that shit is still gonna be there.

why?

Last night we got a really late rush at work. There were only two of us on the floor and we just got slammed. Amidst all of this madness, being that school has let out for the summer... a lot of college kids were in the mix. I found myself in the middle of a pub life vs. high school life vs. college life vs. starbux life all-out brawl.

My first boyfriend ever showed up. He and I have been crossing paths since 4th grade, but each time it still hits hard. He nearly shit his pants when I ran him over with a drink tray in my hand... and then I nearly shat mine when he introduced me to his fiancé.

Quite a few people from my high school class were there, most of them trying to make eye contact with me as I scurried past.

Cross country love's brother was there too, accompanied by a "big party" that kept coming and going, leaving me paranoid that don might actually show his face.

Three of my old starbux coworkers were also there, one celebrating his 24th birthday. This retard actually expected me to hook him up with shots and food and extra special attention just because I coexisted with him behind a counter back in '99. To try and explain why this would never happen is futile, but can be summed up with one statement: He got fired from that job when he pulled a knife on the manager.

The pub regs did nothing to calm this situation at all... trying to figure out how I knew so many people there that night, and drawing even more attention to me by giving me SHIT the WHOLE time.

Don't get me wrong here... I thrive in dramatic situations. But give me a break- a girl can only multi-task to a certain extent.

...

Normally, I would take all this as some sort of serendipitous sign. Say something mystifying like "things are stirring" or "the karma has already started".

But last night... all I could think of was "I don’t need or want this shit right now, and I’m not going to let it get to me."

So I didn't.

Not while I was serving that loud, snobby bitch her bass ale and hardcore cider so she could make her OWN snake bites and rip us off. Not while I was sweeping off the patio at 2am, trying to steal the glasses out of the hands of all the durnk idiots we were kicking out.
Not while I was taking shots of GM after hours to passify this ass of a coworker who was making attempts to get me to go home with him, while SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO HIS GIRLFRIEND that he LIVES WITH.
Not while I was driving home, trying not to explode over the phone because I'm ALWAYS emo. Not even when he fell asleep on me, leaving me to toss and turn, thinking about how I have to do this all over again tonight.

I still haven't let it get to me. And I won't ever. Because there is no point. It's just too much in too short a period of time.

Maybe he's right. Maybe "why" isn't really as important as I want it to be. Or maybe it is, but if I keep getting lost in the "why" I'll miss out on all the "is."

you finish the story.

We all blow a lot of smoke and pretend to be apathetic. As if not caring makes us stronger or less vulnerable.

I am constantly told that I care too much. That I am too aware and defensive. Even today, on a forum I frequent, I was told that I need to "lighten up."
People are unnerved, I suppose, at how much I actively seek out vulnerability.

But the way I see it is that every second I am not being effected and involved, I am wasting. True, I don’t care what you had for lunch yesterday or what sports team is winning what game (unless it’s one he cares about) or how much those shoes cost or how many lbs I’d have to loose to fit into a size 8 again... but there is one thing I will always pay attention to.

My interactions and relationships with the people in my life. The people who were in my life. I will always care, I will always put myself out there, I will always get hurt and I will always remember what happened between us. No, I won’t remember to call and I won’t remember all of the details to every story that you ever told me. But I will always remember you and the color you brought into or took away from my life.

There is distance I consciously put between myself and everyone else. Not because I am apathetic and not because I am afraid of getting hurt. It’s really because I’m sick of dealing with the boring logistics of this world. Thank you notes, for one.

Voicemail messages for two.

Having to try and explain to someone:

"Yeah, you are really awesome and we click and you are here right now and I’m lonely and god your facial hair looks fucking hot and no I don’t really care if you call me tomorrow so there is really nothing to lose, but no... I’m still not going to hook up with you because I am in love with someone else. Someone I haven’t met yet. Someone that I’m not even sure exists but every churning ounce of blood in my body tells me that he’s out there and that he’s doing his best to come and find me even though he is lazy and spoiled and used to having everything so easy but that I am the challenge he has been waiting for and that he will dedicate the rest of his life to taking on and he will love every blasted minute of it even when he finds out that maybe I’m not the fantasy he had in mind, he can’t explain it but he still wants me anyway. And yes, he is my everything, his flaws and fears inconsequential because the fire that he protects by playing everything so close to the vest is real and true and burning for something more than just his business world of casual sex... the energy just exudes from his words and I hate to go Jerry McGuire on you all here but I love him for the man he almost is and have reserved a front row seat and have popcorn stocked up for when he conquers his demons. But even if he never does, this whirlwind of love and lust and wonder is..."

"i am completely misunderstandable"

drunks can spew the most poetic things. it's a shame they never remember them.

i don't really know where to begin.

my trip to connecticut this last week has, in that very cliched way, "put things into perspective." spending so much time with my family and getting so much love and support from the important people in my life has really got me wondering why this sort of intense caring and positive energy only seems to show itself in rare times of socially accepted rites of passages.

because really, i don't want to settle for that. i want more of the good stuff... and this new kick of motivation to go out there and find it is already leading me to places i have forgotten existed.

the hurt and the healing is still all coming along slowly, don't get me wrong. and unfortunately, my uteral issues are perpetuating this high-strung emotional state... but i imagine things should be good to go in 3-5 more days. especially if the weather continues to be as gorgeous as it has been as of late.

sunshine is definitely the best thing for a hopeful heart.

just can't help it.

when i can't sleep at night and the house is quiet... i like to walk down to the kitchen naked.

there are no curtains on the windows... and for the two minutes i stand in front of the open refrigerator with that stale, cold light pouring over me... it makes me tingle to think that someone might see.

yeah. this really does make it all worth it.

a bit from an email that made me cry for the 80th time this month... but this time the tears were joyful:

You have no idea what you have done to us. I know we were all the awkward lost little girls who had no sense of self. You need to know, that you have given us that. You have let us be who we are, and you made us realize that its ok to be that. You have helped us to form friendships that will last us forever. You have given us memories we'll never forget, but most importantly you have given us the love and support we needed from a "big sister" when parents and other adults were inaccessible. You may not see it, but you truly have transformed the lives of a group of girls, and there arent enough words to tell you how much that means to me. I'm still unsure of what my future brings, but I do know that I have enough faith in myself and enough support, that I know I can get through anything.

Most importantly remember that you always have us to turn to.. even though we may be some dumb high schoolers, we've got your back.. I am honored to have been a part of the two groups whose activities have driven my senior year. I can honestly look back on this year with no regrets, because I put myself out there.. I tried my best. I wish I could give you the kind of support and encouragement you have always given us, in whatever weird form. You are an amazing wonderful person, and I wish you much healing and happiness.

logistics.

thank you again to everyone who has contacted me and let me know that my family and i are in your thoughts and/or prayers. my brother and i are driving up to connecticut in a few minutes... we will be there for the viewing, funeral services and family gatherings until sunday. sorry to everyone who would like to have attended... but nonnie is going home. i'm sure you will be there in spirit, much like she will be.

i think it might have been the butterflies in my tummy that came back.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22) Finding the right partner is less important than being the right partner. You can change your feelings toward loved ones by assuming that they are doing their best. Tonight, something owed to you comes back.

this is how i'll remember you.

... even if it wasn't all smiles.

my grandmother died yesterday at 5pm.

i arrived at the hospital at 6pm. she was already cold and blue by then. i couldn't understand why on earth her mouth was still hanging open or why her eyes were still only half- shut.

SOMEONE CLOSE HER EYES AND HER MOUTH. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO MAKE HER LAY THERE LOOKING LIKE A FUCKING ZOMBIE LIKE THAT??

don't you REALIZE that her family is going to see that and be haunted with that image for the rest of their lives... if they are lucky enough to be touched by something so deeply that they DO remember it forever?

it was already like her skin had given up and sucked straight into skull. she had lost all that weight from her last spurt of pneumonia.

i remember our last interaction.

i said, "i love you."

her eyes were wide and her voice rang with the tone of some innocence i look forward to revisiting.

"thank you."

she said thank you-NOT i love you too. who does that? she hadn't been delusional. just a little slow on the uptake. that was a week ago. my mother and i went out to dinner afterwards and saw fever pitch. i thought of him the whole time.

this morning i knew. my mom tried to wake me up- after all, it was 2pm. she told me that we both wasted the day away... and that she was so tired of going to the hospital every day. i told her she needed to stop. i told her not to go today. i knew that if she went today she would get sad again. but i had no clue just how sad.

on my way out the door she guilt-tripped me again. when am i going to make time to see my grandmother. i said tomorrow morning after church and before work... and that maybe we could even get my brother to go.

i haven't really talked to my father in 2 weeks. he didn't answer his phone any of the times i called him today, almost pleading for him to come to the hospital with me. i had known that i needed him there even before i knew she was gone.

shake it off.

when this shit hits you in a few days you're gonna cry again. most likely in the middle of a shift at work or in the car on the way to connecticut for the funeral or when you are trying desperately hard not to be an annoying drama queen on the phone with him but you just. cant. help it.

this was the end of an era yesterday. the winterguard send off party. the one you couldn't prepare for because you were at the hospital with a dead grandmother and a mother that you know will never be the same ever. ever. again. the girls understood. they won't be bitter that you couldn't put together cute party favors or paper plate awards for them.

but you will.

no one will understand this post and will ask you to clarify and will send condolences that you really don't need or particularly want because that just confirms that there are people out there who still care about you despite all of the distance you have put between yourself and everyone. else.

i wanted to kiss her but i was afraid to come close to her zombie face. so i just stroked her hair and looked at the wall.

i have to put together a photo-collage for the viewing and then something elegant and inspirational to say at the funeral. the family will be there. you can't fuck this one up because they know you write and speak well when you make an effort and if your grandmother who raised you passing away doesn't deserve a bit of effort then you are not as compassionate a person as you might front to be.

all i want to do right now is have sex and have it hurt. a lot. so i can have pleasure and pain and distract me from everything that i have been running away from for 23 years and some days and hours and even tonight as i talked to this kid who was arrested for having syringes and steroids in his car while he was collecting money from some girl he kinda knew and got a flat tire for running up against a curb they didn't even ask him if he needed help or a ride they just knew he had shit that wasn't right but after his detox experience he feels really good now and wants to take me out for coffee sometime in efforts to try and seduce me when really all that will happen is that he will fall in love with me like they all do and i will have known from the beginning that it won't work but that i saw a spark and a possibility that maybe he is the one who will change into that something that i am pining for and gave it a shot anyway because i was bored and lonely.

everyone feels so lonely. everyone looks so lonely. she was so lonely because we couldn't bring ourselves to visit her in the home everyday. how do you go from spending your entire life surrounded by family to barely seeing them from week to week, not being able to worry about them or make them dinner or ask if they need an extra $20 for gas?

i don't know how she held on so long.

but thank god she finally let go and we can hurt and bleed and cry for her and ourselves and all the time and money and energy we put into this beautiful downfall of a woman and a life and a family that can't keep pretending that it doesn't hurt when no one hugs like they mean it.

writer's block has been my best friend since i moved back into my mother's house and i thought the new software would fix it. i thought the lap top would fix it. i thought falling in love would fix it. i was wrong. my grandmother fixed it.

i owe her big. for this post, and for the fact that i can rest easy now, knowing that she is there to take care of my cat.

one of the kitchen staff refused to make me lunch last week because he said i was too fat and needed to go on a diet. i cried. one of the bartenders only talks to me about how much he hates my cell phone etiquette and how nice my boobs are. i cry about it. i know way too many men who actively cheat on their girlfriends but still think that they love them. i cry for the girlfriends and for myself because as much as i want to just hook up with them anyway i can't because i don't want to contribute to the downfall of love.

i have been running a lot. my feet have lots of blisters. but i'm still slow.

my hair is getting really long. when i use my curling iron i really do have porn star hair.

colorguard is now home to me. i'm really fucking good at what i do... and i'm finally comfortable and confident enough to say that out loud. it's a shame that you can't hear me.

my mother has kind of stopped living. and i'm excited to see her rebirth in the midst of her mother's death. maybe my own too.

but i'm really scared that after this post i will go back into hiding again. that i won't be able to think and write like i used to back when i checked my hits everyday and flirted incessantly with internet windows.

there are still so many secrets. even though there weren't any when i started. maybe there won't be any when i'm finished, either. i hope.

For Anybuddy Interested:

Monday, April 25th @ 7pm, my winterguard will be performing for the last time this season. If you are in the area and wanna check out what I spend the majority of my free time doing... holla at me over IM or email and I'll give you the details.

Hope to see some of you there.

How is it ...

That some writers are worshiped for showing their underbellies... while others are credited for hiding theirs? I guess we are celebrating the full spectrum of author vulnerability- writing for every author being such a different thing.

I wonder what it is, to me, exactly. Sometimes I write to escape. Sometimes to connect. Sometimes just to vent to that all-accepting blank page or screen without fear of backlash. Sometimes to feel intelligent; proud of myself. Sometimes to question everything I think to be truth. Sometimes to wallow in self pity, other times to brag. Sometimes to figure things out... to slow down the whirlwind of thoughts in my head and actually try and learn from them.

I fear that writing is not as intense an experience for some of the writers out there who make a hell of a lot more money doing it than I do. And who do a hell of a lot better job, too.

Those cold writers. Those matter-of-fact writers. Full of judgment and criticism... I hope their lives are not as distant as their words. Imagine living so alien to your own emotions. Is it really that some of us search for something - anything - that can be used to mask how we really feel?

Can we writers get so caught up in the masks of our own metaphors that we just perpetuate these dillusional bubbles that we create, live in, and casually refer to as our "comfort zone"?

This just isn't fun anymore.

I'm sick of fighting EVERY SINGLE TIME we talk. Sharing intimate moments with you, only to turn around and be hard-core rejected the next minute is NOT exactly the way to win me over. Either you want me or you don't, boss.

Make. Up. Your fucking mind.

You'll find that I can be an extraordinary friend. And a mind-blowing girlfriend. But only when I know which one I'm supposed to be.

Until then... don't be surprised when I am unsympathetic to your cause.

i have no idea what you are talking about.

I often refer to "falling in love with internet windows." Considering the lack of success I have had with this phenomenon... I must have subconsciously told myself that phone calls would be different.

My idealism's ability to mask stupidity never ceases to amaze me.

Bubba was in a motorcycle accident on Friday.

... a bad one.

He was going straight down a road when a young kid made a left turn onto that road... and smacked right into him. The car hit Bubba on the left side, and he flew up and over it... leaving skin deposits on the windshield.

He broke his femur clear in half, his right eye is swollen shut and he has 40 odd stitches in his face.

I’m going to go visit him on Wednesday, and I must admit- the whole thing scares the shit out of me. I just keep thinking that he could have died.

He really could have died.

does it even matter?

i don't know what i'm doing. i miss my site. i miss my friends. i miss my mom and my brother and i can't deal with the hurt i feel every time i try to talk to them. i've been trying to post on another webpage and it just isn't working. i'm not what they are looking for and they are not what i'm looking for. i don't really know what i'm looking for at this point... but this current whirlwind sure isn't it.

i am the distance that i put between myself and everyone around me.

i really do just want to move somewhere else and start all over. in a town where not everyone remembers that i used to pee in my pants when i was young, or that i turned everyone in for skipping class to go smoke pot in my car, or that i worked here, there and everywhere, or that i hooked up with him and her but wouldn't give so and so the time of day, or that we used to be such close friends and now we don't talk anymore.

it's too fucking much. i'm living on reputation and speculation. i'm not falling in love with anyone or anything that is helping me grow. just stunting my growth. making me question myself and everything that i thought i was all about.

i miss how it used to be but i don't want to go back there. i hate how it is now but can't see a way out. i dream about what it could and will be...

but dreams haven't done anything for me thus far.

maybe it's time to stop dreaming.

short and sweet.

i will not have regular acces to a computer for an indefinite period of time. don't expect much, if anything at all, if you continue to come to this site. currently, i do not have a place to live, and am consequently switching my focus to trying to rectify that.

don't call me and ask what's going on. don't offer me your floor or your futon. don't worry about me. it will not help... it will just make me feel worse.

catch you later.

Pardon the mess, my darlings!

Being that my computer, while equipped with brand new software ::kisses Theresa::, is retardedly slow... this new layout could take a very long time to get working correctly. I know it's the same, damn code- shut up! Unless you are a computer wiz dying to make me a truly new layout, we have to deal with what we have.

So yeah. Let me know what you think of it.

I'll give you a theory of change. Let's start with your underwear.

Those left standing will make millions writing books on the way it should have been.
-Incubus

There is a feeling in the pit of my stomach. My immediate response is to use the word "bad" or "ominous," for poetic reasons. But after a moment or two of contemplation I think I might have to go with "big" instead.

Things are stirring.

Things that haven't moved in a long time. There is some cracking and bending and everything is out of practice. It's very exciting... But a lot of work and pain lies ahead. I fear that my winterguard might be the first to feel the wrath of what is coming. Shortly after that, my ego will most likely be the target.

The mission, if I choose to accept it, is to push that waste of conscious aside to make room for all that now-mobile stuff I mentioned earlier.

Now George Michael is singing about faith in the background. I am almost ashamed that I can't decide if I like this original better than the Limp Bizkit cover. Don't shake your head at me. I'm not afraid of being trendy.

I need a favor. Your favorite posts of mine. I'd like to link them. Highlight my brilliance a bit.

This has accident written all over it. But if I do crash, make sure to take pictures...

because at least we know my underwear will be clean. I just changed them.

just for mister zanello.

i had no idea that my permalinks were all messed up until this comment was left under my last post by a very mysterious, very inspiring little weblogger. you can see the donkey, if you like, and give him a shout out for helping me out. some of you might remember lee, creator and webmaster of poplish (a site that i should be contributing to a lot more). he actually just revamped everything and made it FREE for people to post! hint hint. nudge nudge.

anyway- i might be bad at the whole "coding" thing... but this little error is just unacceptable. so yeah. i fixed it! now each and every post has a little webpage of its very own. too cute for words. enjoy it my friends, for we all know that without the archives... this site would be useless!

the asian sensation:

click here to find the comedy video listed under G Love & Special Sauce: Milk and Cereal. sorry folks, i had to take down the code to save myself from poking my computer monitor with sissors.

i just couldn't get enough of this. heh.

oh, pity parties are the greatest.

... and i'm so fucking good at them.

bottom line:
i've been lonely these past few weeks. i just want to feel wanted and important to someone that i want and who is important to me.

i HATE it that i need people like do. but damnit, i just do.

all the enjoyable, enlightening conversation in the world doesn't mean shit if you never have it in between kisses.

happy new year!

INGREDIENTS: Chamomile flowers, spearmint leaves, lemon grass, tilla flowers, blackberry leaves, orange blossoms, hawthorn berries, and rosebuds.

With the coming of the new year it appears that I have magically turned into an organic spirit of the earth. How charming.

DIRECTIONS: Pour boiling water over a tea bag and steep 4-6 minutes. If desired, add a touch of honey and a squeeze of lemon.

Or two spoons of sugar and a honey lemon menthol cough drop.

Okay... so maybe I’m not exactly an organic spirit as of yet. Maybe I’m just still sick and after a night like tonight, I needed a cup of Sleepy Time Tea (the cough drop was an accident. It kind of fell out of my mouth into the cup).

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Funny how karma started early this year. That quote is written underneath the flap of the tea package I just opened.

Right, so. Resolutions:

#1. Do not let crushes develop just because you lack other options.

#2. Smile, nod and always thank everyone for their good advice on what you should be doing with your life.

#3. Stop pussyfooting around and get on with your dreams.

Challenges abound in 2005. Hope the same goes for all of you. Cheers.