The Vote Is In: ... He Likes It.

Grey Matters: i can hear your writing.
Grey Matters: its audible.
scarletideals: ?
Grey Matters: i can hear it because it has its own natural cadence to it.
Grey Matters: its not mine, so it doesnt sound like me in my head.
Grey Matters: i can hear you read it.
Grey Matters: even tho i cant.
Grey Matters: what im failing to say is that your blog is good.
Grey Matters: me gusta mucho.
scarletideals: no no u didnt fail
scarletideals: i get it
scarletideals: thank u sir.
Grey Matters: plus there is this KILLER beard in one picture.
Grey Matters: heh.



Grey Matters: your 'labels' on the right hand side are cute.
Grey Matters: he-man woman hater! grrrr!
Grey Matters: i dont see the big time farter, or toe sucker.
Grey Matters: the rest seems accurate.
scarletideals: hey hey
scarletideals: i fart a LOT
scarletideals: you just cant hear it
scarletideals: and i do suck toes.
Grey Matters: thats SO not big time!
scarletideals: yes it is
scarletideals: ask my brother
Grey Matters: and whose toes?
scarletideals: a few boys i have dated
Grey Matters: their request or yours?
scarletideals: the first time he asked to suck mine
scarletideals: and i kicked him in the jaw
Grey Matters: from the intense pleasure i hope??
scarletideals: it felt really good, despite that... so i returned the favor
Grey Matters: okay - so now i just disagree with your definition of "big time". i wanna HEAR a big time fart. smell is incidental. you can smell an infant fart.
scarletideals: fine
scarletideals: i will do my best
scarletideals: to save some good farts for you

Lunch With Lilac

There is just something about sharing a meal with someone you feed off of. Nourishing your body and your brain at the same time is so effing energizing. Go figure.

So this girl I know. Lilac Melody. She's one of my bestest friends in the world. We beer wench together. We make music together. And soon, soon, SOON... we will reside together too. Like- in the same dwelling.

It might just be key to surround yourself with the people who foster your creative thinking and get just as jazzed as you do talking about the future and dreams and the like.

Another Tasty Treat From The Gang @ oneword: map

i can see the changes in my location and my destination rolling out in red carpet right in front of me.

all i have to do is continue taking steps.


every day. every minute. every single chance i get.

i look around me and see so many things i have yet to do and know that my journey is really about to begin.

This is not going to be a pipe dream. A phase. An idea that never comes to fruition. This is going to be my life, folks. And thank-FUCKING-god she's a part of it.

This IS Work

Business. Let's get down to it.

Today's oneword: soak

he stood at the end of my parking space with his hands in his jeans pockets. his hoodie was up but served no purpose as his entire being was soaked through the wet fabric clinging to his skin. His aqua-green steel eyes blazed through the the rain drops and caught mine and my hands froze on the steering wheel and i knew he wasn't going to let me drive away this time.

I said "his" way too many times. But other than that... I really like that little scene there.

Anyway.
So once or twice a week I attend first period at the high school to work with their show choir. See: clumsy choreographer. My current challenge with them is the upcoming spring concert. Wait for it...

... it's a Disney show.

I am responsible for writing the work to 2 numbers specifically (an ensemble performance of "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid, and a full group rendition of "The Circle of Life" from The Lion King), as well as helping the student choreographers with their pieces, and the over-all flow of the entire presentation.

The cynic in me wants to scream "SHOOT ME NOW" at the top of my lungs and run as fast as I can towards something that isn't over-done, synthetic cheese. But let's think about this. I have an opportunity to produce some classy-ass, wholesome shit here.

Heh.
I can't stop giggling at myself and the fact that I GET PAID to do this.

Wake. The Fuck. Up.

My cell phone alarm just went off. Not because I was napping and didn't want to sleep the evening away... but because I needed to be reminded. To take my birth control pill.

This is only my second dose and I'm already so very aware of my body... waiting to see what, if any, effect the hormones will have on me.

Everything about this feels so sneaky. So private. Like I shouldn't even be writing about it because "these types of things" don't need to be discussed in public realms. I even lied to my father about what my prescription was for... and that is just something I can't do very easily.

Part of me feels like an idiot for even mentioning it. At my age, I "should not" just be discovering the wonders of birth control... and documenting the fact that I am so late to the game makes me want to feel sorry for myself.

I can't help it that I am excited to explore and write about this new aspect of my life and my love... even if half the people in the world are shaking their heads in pity for me while the other half are shaking their finger in anger at me.

I just don't like how this feels. Not one bit.

Just 5 More Minutes!

I should have been out of bed an hour ago. But I have this guilty pleasure of wasting time in these lucid dreams that I end up forgetting the second my bare feet hit the red carpet floor of my room. This is my daily ritual, no matter what task I should be focused on first thing in the morning.

Before I set off for my 10-4 shift at the irish pub, I wanted to make a point to blog something, and my snoozing has robbed me of the precious minutes needed to complete this task. There is always an excuse, but I AM trying to get back into the habit. With this new period in my life, I want to have a bit more influence over my own activities. Interesting concept- giving up on passive aggressive living. So despite my late start, I will press on.

Today's oneword: retreat

it's quick and crass and you know that in pulling back you will only spread this pain wider and deeper and it's a shame because you all had such good intentions but where good and bad are relative it doesn't really matter what we set out to do...

only what we did.

Hit home a little harder there, sxb* (who, by the way, still needs to get his blasted comments fixed). This whole blog is a retreat on my part. Bringing my writing back to what it used to be for me. A self-serving escape.

I hate how the term "self-serving" has such a negative connotation. It's just that I used to write for me... until I lost sight of that in all of the attention I was getting. Then I served the masses until I was dry and now there is hardly anything left.

Hrmn. That last sentence pretty much sums up my current feelings on my job at the pub as well as my writing. I guess that's why I'm pulling back from that environment too.

This... and by this I mean me... must be nutured slowly, until my words come back to life.

The "He"

If I was sadistic enough, I could categorize the periods in my life by the male(s) I have been "in love" with during that time. That being said, I feel as though it is only fair that I explain the current state of being this blog begins itself in.

For the first time in my life I am in love and vulnerable. I do not have complete confidence and control over this "relationship," and I really don't know what to do with myself. So much so that I hesitate to even call it a "relationship" without putting quotation marks around the word.


His name is Grey. Grey Matters. He is, despite his name, so much more than the comfortable shade of gray he makes his home in. There is no need for me to wax poetic about all of the little, big and medium-sized things I find in his eyes that lead me to love him so- SEE?!?! Cheese ball much?

Anyway. This is the revisiting of my first love. My first a lot of things. We have come and gone in and out of each other's lives since the fall of 1998... and the spectrum of our relationship is gargantuan, yet still continuing to grow at mammoth speed.

This one could really hurt me. And I am very fearful that he will. Mainly because in the way that I wasn't ready for him in high school... he is not ready for me now.

I am counting down the days until I have to say good bye. Not because of some fear that he will leave me but because he IS leaving. Quite soon, actually. For Japan. And don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have it any other way... but I am anxious. Anxious to see if our paths will ever cross again... and if they do... will this love be as real and big as I think it might be.

I am counting down the days until I have to say good bye. Until I have to end this period and wait for a new he.

Because for the first time in my life... I don't want a new he.