How do I let a good man down

I don't know how to love a man that will stick around.
I don't know how to feel right when things are safe.
I don't know how to be loved.
I don't know how to act when things are healthy.
I can't seem to live the life that I want.
There are some nice boys in my life that like me.
And I don't know how to love any of them.
One guy that has been through a lot of tough things in his life.
He makes me feel safe and he takes care of me.
But I get the overwhelming feeling that I will fuck him over.
That I will fuck everything up.
I don't know how to handle someone that is that nice.
For his sake, I can't get close to him.
And I've already started drifting away.
Another guy that says he likes me and seems honest and true in his intentions.
He has interests that are similar to mine
and his sense of humor and oddness is very much like my own.
But I am afraid of him and afraid to get close to him
because I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I'm still trying to figure out what the catch is.
Then there is a guy that I talk to alot
that is coming to see me all the way from Seattle.
And now that it's becoming real, that I will actually meet him,
I can't help but feel distant and scared of reality as it draws near.
I have wanted to be in a relationship for a long time.
I have wanted to find a nice, kind man to spend my days with.
But whenever someone gets close to me
I don't know how to act.
I don't know how to be liked.
I am the one that does the liking.
I am the one that puts myself out to be hurt.
I don't know what to do if things don't look like they will fail.
I don't know how to be in a healthy relationship.
All I've wanted for the last 6 years is to be in a healthy relationship.
Now that I have chances to do so,
I don't know how to accept them.
I can't be with someone that respects me.
I am only attracted to those that I have no chance with.
I only want those that will hurt me.
I have tried rationalizing it.
I have tried forcing it.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know what is wrong with me.

T9 Dictionary: My Words

These are the words and misspellings that I have added to my t9 dictionary.
baby
Bah
bagel
Beavis
Bff
Benton
better
Chow
bisquit
bistro
bitch
bitches
bitching
bitchy
biter
chutney
Blah
Bleh
Akira
clit
bloag
Coary
Bologna
boob
boobs
boner
comfy
boning
bonkers
coot
convienence
cranberry
crappy
bratwurst
appt
bullshit
bummed
bummer
cunt
burrito
cutie
autism
Aydin
facebook
fag
damn
dammit
farrell
eastbound
farting
dbt
fatima
dearie
definatly
eek
dick
ditching
folky
email
doodle
doozie
dork
dorky
douche
freaking
fricking
frisky
fuck
fucka
fucked
fucker
fucking
duluth
futon
ew
haha
icky
hankering
gayhill
heck
heehee
hexagon
gigiddy
giggly
girlie
gmail
gnarly
hola
homie
googley
honkey
hooray
hotness
hottie
ipod
Grouper
IUD
Jay
Jeaux
Kellie
Kenny
kilt
jinx
kisser
Joeclyn
nachos
nah
magnolia
nakie
mascot
Nate
Maya
Mayhill
Mawk
neato
meds
meh
meow
nerdy
netflix
mew
mhc
Micheal
Mictlan
OKCupid
Okkervil
mofo
mojo
Nokomis
Mmmm
Nopers
mopey
MRSA
nummy
mutha
nyah
rah
salsa
sammiches
Santogold
scrabble
scrounge
patootie
reals
Pele
semen
penis
sesh
sexiness
Shatner
Shawnie
Sheesh
sigh
shit
shitty
sinus
pissed
pisses
pissing
slut
snarky
smhs
smooches
romp
pooped
pooping
romps
spendy
splurged
Staci
Stacy
Stevie
quickie
stinky
stoner
runny
sushi
pussy
swindle
taco
taffy
vcr
vh1
that
theres
Tina
vhs
tits
trippy
tsk
walrus
wanker
yay
weening
wiener
Wendy
whacha
whachu
whoa
woot
wontons
yuck
yucky
xui
yum
yummy
wuss
yuppers

A,B,C's and 1, 2, 3's.

So.
School.
I'm finally, begrudgingly entering the world of academics.
As hard as it is for me to bring myself to do so,
you would think the world would cut me some slack and make it easier to enroll.
But nope, I'm a Phelps, gotta do everything the hard way :)
I enrolled into Metro State, but I was denied.
It's quite a blow to shoulder.
I was a decent student through high school,
and I did a year of college as a post secondary student through my senior year in H.S..
I ended that junk with a 3.0 GPA.
Not too great, but not terrible either.
But then once I graduated, I felt the pressure to go to college for something.
I started taking classes to be a chiropracter through RCTC.
But then one of my friends got his own place,
he was the first one of us and it was such a new and awesome thing
that one of us had a place where we could all go and get really fucked up and not care.
So I started skipping class to get drunk and do acid and
smoke pot and do coke and blah blah blah drugs.
And then I couldn't make it to class anymore because I was always so hung over,
or it got to the point that it was embarassing to be there because I had skipped so much.
So that ended my college attempt with a GPA of 1.75,
because I pretty much just dropped out within my first semester.
Noooooooooooooow it's present day and I applied to Metro State
and I had to take a placement test to see where I would have to start out with things.
I ended up doing very well in the english portion of my tests,
however, math totally got me and I failed that part miserably.
Hey, cut me some slack, me and my friend Josh thought it would be genius
to take every single one of our required math credits all within our 9th grade.
So, I haven't had any sort of a math class since the ending up the 9th grade.
I graduated in 2000. . .so it's been since. . .1997? Or so? 12 years? 13 years?
Yeah, I'm not surprised that I bombed math.
In the end, I didn't get accepted into Metro State.
But I was recommended to start out at MCTC a Minneapolis community college.
Fine, whatever.
I have to start with some developmental math classes to get the juices flowing again.
and I can do all my generals there,
then transfer over to Metro State once I have recovered my GPA enough.
Which, the whole transfer thing is kind of nice because MCTC and Metro state
share a campus at their Minneapolis location.
So when I transfer, I'll basically just get a new logo on my student ID,
and I'll keep going to the same campus as I was all along.
Whatever.

This is what gets me though.
I wish that it was easier to go to school.
Why do I have to be held to this standard?
Obviously my math skills suck, otherwise I wouldn't be going to you to sharpen them.
Obviously I don't know what it takes to be a social worker right now,
that is why I am applying to this school to learn how to perform in that field.
So why make it so hard?
Why make it so expensive?
In the collective community that we human beings live in,
does my education not provide a means to a greater solution?
School should be free.
And it should be open to all of us.
Teachers should be paid handsomely,
and by having school be free,
well, figure something out.
We give away scholorships and grants and all that crap,
just give it all directly to the teachers.
Whatever, I don't know what I'm talking about.

Also, I don't want to go to school.
I really don't.
And it is something that I have fought for a long time.
I don't want to be measured up to others.
I don't want to feel like I am stupid.
I don't want to feel pressure to perform in a way that is acceptable to a teacher
that doesn't know me and won't have time to appreciate my individuality.
I feel like attending school will be the ultimate stripping of who I am.
I will become another backpack toting drone that is lost in the crowd of academia.
I know who I am.
And I'm smart on my own.
But my natural intelligence won't be apprecaited there.
It is hardly appreciated by someone that knows
me deeply enough to know my natural talent.
My best friend.
The schooliest-scholar of them all.
He who says I have contempt for educated man.
How much he hits and misses with that statment.
I DON'T have contempt for educated man
in the way that I hate them for being smart.
Not at all.
I have great admiration for someone that can fall in line and do as they are asked.
I have respect for someone that can stick it out and commit to something like that.
I respect the fact that they are able to take the criticism of grades and handle monotony.
However,
I have contempt for someone that will not see me as their equal because
I have not been through the same generic routine.
I lose respect for someone that talks down to me because I didn't find my path sooner.
I hate being told that I am not adequete because I have not been in school.
I am just as smart as you,
and possibly even more so,
because I am doing all of this on my own.
So fuck your education.
Without it, I would like to see how we would stack up.
So when I graduate, be forwarned.
Because then I will truly have contempt.
And it will be for educated man.
Because once I get my receipt/diploma,
I'm fucking coming for all of you.

It has been a 10 year adventure,
living my life and taking it as it goes.
I never knew what it was that I would want to go to school for,
so I just kept on living and learning things about this world and myself
to really figure out what it is that I wanted to do with my life.
And I feel like all of this has made me a much stronger person in life.
I KNOW what I want to do now.
And knowing it, as strongly as I do, I have the passion to pursue it.
Had I signed up for school 5 years ago, out of pressure or whatever,
I would have dropped out again.
There is no doubt in my mind.
But now I know.
And I have all the life experience behind it all to fuel my insight.
I'm ready.
Well, no, I'm not.
But I know I need to do this.
Otherwise I'm going to be stuck working at a shitty group home for the rest of my life.
Fuck that.
I'm sick of going home, smelling like piss, shit, incence, and cigarettes.
I'm sick of being ineffectual and feeling like what I do pointless and mundane.
I'm ready for the next chapter in my life.
And school is just like the bridge between now and my future.
Fuck.
I hate school.
Already I hate it.
But atleast I get to go school supply shopping. Rock!

Magnolia

I wonder what in my life defines me.
Or rather, what it is throughout my life that defines the stages therein.
I know there are significant things that impact who I am.
My parents and brother are the biggest influences I have.
I know the love they have shown me and the support they always give me
is a determining factor in the way that I react to my surroundings.
I know that my closest friends also help form the person that I am.
Dennis, Anne, and now Ashely show me a lot of things about myself and the world.

I wonder with the things that surround me,
what it is that sticks out to me,
what it is about me that makes those particular events to be more 'life changing' than others.
Why do I pick up on *this* instead of *that*?
I think there are things within my personality that make me favor some influences.
I don't have an example, so this will be a horrible paragraph of nothing,
but I feel like the way that I am causes me to see things
in things that some others wouldn't.
I am optimistic,
I tend to pick up on the best part of a situation and expand upon it.
That is a good example I guess.
I am predisposed to always see the goodness in something.
I get bitter and resentful
and sometimes it causes me to dwell on some of the negativity,
but for the most part,
I can't help but see the beauty, love and miracles in the small things that surround me.

So, I wonder, how does that effect the things that shape me?
Will I tend to strive to see the happiness in all the things that impact my life?
What happens when something bad happens?
Hee hee :)
I know the answer to that,
I will delude myself to see the goodness in the bad as well.
My optimism is like a fantasy defense mechanism.

And how will I shape the lives of those I come in contact with?
I always hope that I leave a positive impact.
I will never really know, I suppose.
But, I have the rosey, sunny outlook that leads me to hope that
I can improve someone's day by a tiny, little fraction
by smiling at a stranger on the street.
Or holding the door open for someone.
Or being the first person to say hello while passing someone in a store.
I try to be helpful when possible.
I don't know what kind of day people are having when I interact with them,
so I try not to press upon them the bullshit of my day/life,
and I try to cater to what is going on with them at the moment.
Maybe by smiling at a person in the grocery store,
I will somehow make them believe that young hooligans
that have piercings in their face and dark make-up around their eyes
are nice, friendly people that aren't half bad.
Maybe by holding the door for someone will give them that small break they needed.
I don't know.
I'm just trying to make a small dent.
I know I can't change the world.
I know I can't change anything buy myself.
But I hope that I can atleast be a positive influence to those that I am around.

Photo Kids.

I think kids are interesting.
I like to strike up a conversation with kids when I can.
It's pretty rare, I don't know many people with children,
but I enjoy the innocent honesty that you get from a child.
This writing, however, is not about what they say,
already I am getting off topic. :)
I am interested in what they see.
I have decided that when I have kids,
I will make sure they have a camera at all times.
I'd probably prefer to go with some disposable 35mm camera,
something that wouldn't matter if they lost it, broke it, whatever.
I am curious about what pictures little kids would take.
I am interested in the angles they'd shoot at.
I'm sure that most of the pictures would be impulsive snaps
that are out of focus, fuzzy, blurry,
and the targeted object of the picture would probably be half out of the frame.
However, I think it would be interesting to go through a roll of child's film.
I want to know what catches their eye.
I want to know what they thought was worth capturing in their shutter.
I want to know what they are seeing in the scenery.
In a way, I want to be able to see something through the eyes of a child.

I would have albums and albums of their photos.
Granted, I would hopefully have a child that willingly goes along with their crazy mom.
I would have walls that are filled with frames holding their photos.
We could use their photos for collages.
We could use the photos to create pages in books.
Cards for relatives.
Something for them to look at when they are older.
Something so they can see what they saw when they were a child.

And who knows,
starting a child off this way might lead to something more.
I think the more confidence the child has in pursuing their vision could be a good thing.
Maybe that confidence would lead them to be more artist.
Maybe they would embrace their creativity.
Maybe.

Keep'n It Real

In all the things I claim to be or not to be,
the one this I can say that I am is real.
Even when I am living in my fantasy land
and dreaming about things that may never happen,
there is a realness to it.
There is heart behind it.
I will tell you exactly what I think of you, it, this, that, whatever.
I do so in a tactful way, I'm not a hurtful person.
But I pride myself in doing what I think is right.

I can come off as an intense person.
I can be very overwhelming.
And those characteristics have been somewhat of a hindrance to me.
But I won't apologize for it.
I like that I get carried away.
I like that I can be too much.
Because that is who I am,
and I'm going to keep it real.
I don't suppress myself and try to be something I'm not.
I might scare people off,
but I figure I want to get it all out in the open right away anyway.
I don't know how long I have, or how long any of us has.
I don't know how many opportunities I am going to have with people,
so I want to do everything right away.
I want to say it all.
I want to leave nothing behind.
I want no regret.
No stone unturned.
I want you to know everything about me rightthisverymoment.
Because moments are all we have.
And I'll be damned if I don't seize every opportunity I have.

So for people that can't handle me,
I feel bad for you, son.
I'm living life to the fullest that I can.
I'm not holding back.
I'm saying all the things that are on my mind
and trying to make that connection.
Ah! A connection.

I want to embrace everyone and everything.
I want to feel everything to the depth of my being.
I want to share all of this with everyone.
I want to share my love with all of you.
My smiles, my laughter, my stupid pervert jokes.
I want to envelop every person in my joy
and bring them along for the ride.
To be real with people,
and hope that people will be real with me in return.

So far I come off as slightly misunderstood.
Or so my BFF Dennis says.
"Guys just don't understand you."
I don't know if it's just guys.
And I make no claims to be some enigma or mystery.
I'm putting myself out there.
Someone is going to get it, someone will get what I'm about.
When that happens, it'll be like fire works.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

I still have a forlornness inside.
But I'm burying it as deep down as I can,
Sometimes when you ignore something long enough, it'll go away.
I've decided I need to commit to some things in life.
1. Music
2. Bettering myself
3. Getting better with my finances.

Music will be the easy one.
I want to discover more bands.
I've been slacking a little on that.
I need to resume my massive amounts of downloading.
I need to start reading up on some of these new bands.
I need to put money towards concerts instead of stupid shit.
I need to push myself to go out alone and check out shows.
People aren't always going to be available to go out with me,
so I need to not let that hold me back.
I live in a great city for music, I need to get more into it.
I think that music will be my salvation.
It has already pulled me through enough situations,
so now I need to give it the respect that it deserves.
I need to pursue it and stop waiting for it to come to my door.
There are some great concerts coming up, I can't wait!
Soundset is going to be awesome, I have tickets for that already.
I want to get tickets to Rock the Garden (Yeasayer, Calexico, Solid Gold, Decemberists)
Cloud Cult is playing on Saturday, I want to check that out.
Plus Youth Group, PJ Harvey (oh my god!!), Animal Collective with Grouper, Low, Lady Sovereign (eh, maybe), Santogold, Doves, Camera Obscura, Gogol Bordello, Lucero, Julie Doiron, Grizzly Bear, Mewithoutyou, The National. . .shit dogg.
I'm going to be a busy girl.
And that feels good.

With bettering myself, it's gotta be healthy.
I need to start taking care of myself better.
I figure, if I eat less, I'll have more money for concerts :)
But I need to get into the habit of doing something active each day.
Whether it's walking, going for a bike ride, or having a 30 minute private dance party.
Something to get my heart going.
It would be good for me to be more healthy,
just for life quality reasons.
But I feel like I would have a better chance in the dating world if I lost some pounds.
I always told myself that I want a man that is going to fall in love with me for who I am,
not what my pants size is.
But I don't feel like guys are really giving me a chance to get to know me.
I hate that.
I hate that I am succumbing to the pressure of body image to try and get a date.
Because I don't really want to be with someone that is shallow like that anyway.
But.
I really don't know what else to do.
I kick some fucking ass,
but guys don't see that.
They can't see past the physical part,
that I'm chubby.
So, I'm going to make it easier on myself by making it hard on myself.
Stupid shallow boys.

Getting more financially secure is a hard one.
I've got unpaid bills floating around out there that are dragging my credit down.
I'm sure I'm not going to be able to buy a house until I'm like 50.
Which is sad.
I couldn't even get a loan a few months ago for $4000 for my truck.
My parents had to co-sign.
It's so embarrassing!
I'm a grown ass woman!
I still like spending money on stupid stuff.
Well, not entirely stupid stuff.
I'm just not smart about things.
I eat out way too much.
I don't go out to the bars too incredibly much,
but when I do, I go bonkers and get way silly and drinky.
It's probably a good thing that I don't have a crush in Duluth to go see,
that'd be so much money to go see him every few weeks or so.
Spending money on gas and food is one thing,
but damn, I'd have to stay in a hotel everytime I go visit?
That would get to be waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too expensive.
I probably would have had to spend $200 every time I visited.
That is just too much.
So, good. I guess.

I've set up a lot of plans this weekend.
Which will do me a lot of good.
I need to get out more.
I need to get out of my head more.
I have been thinking a lot lately and it makes things more painful.
I don't understand the way the world works.
I don't understand people.
Part of me is really sick of being in this transition that I feel my life is in.
But then again, part of me is really excited about the lack of responsibility I have.
In the fall I'm going to be going back to school.
That is going to be such a huge change for me!
It's going to be hard and I'm really going to have to focus.
I'm going to have to buckle down.
So right now would be the time to have my hayday.
It's probably better than I don't have a boy in my life,
because during school, I'm going to have to focus on good grades instead of him.
It'd be nice to have a summer fling though.
I'm kind of at a high point in my sexuality.
Maybe not the peak, but I'm definitely more sexually preoccupied than I've ever been.
So it'd be nice to have a boy to work some of that out on.
I want a boy that lives around some sweet bars.
Because then we can walk or ride bike down to the bars and hang out til bar close
and then walk/ride back to one of our places and have crazy drunk sex.
Awesomeness.
And it'd be nice to have a boy to go pursue music with.
But all that stuff is kind of fleeting.
At times I really want it, at times I don't.
I'm not sure what it is, but I feel completely fine spending time by myself.
I really enjoy my personal time.
I like being able to make stuff and tinker around with art projects.
I like being able to walk around in my underwear and rap to P.O.S.
I like not having to do the dishes all the time because someone is coming over.
I like living in my own little world that I have created.
I like the sound of my own little world when there isn't someone talking and disrupting it.
I am happy when I'm by myself.
Most of the time.
And when I'm not,
I have kick ass friends to call up and drag out.
It all works out.
I just needed to stop being emotional.
I got attached to a routine.
I got attached to waking up to cute pictures and texts.
I got attached to a feeling.
I couldn't even say that I got fully attached to the person,
because he wasn't really there anyway.
I got attached to something I created.
Now that I'm rational again, not pre-menstral emotional haha,
I can see all the things that I have that are better off.
And I can see what I have going for me for this summer.
I can see all the fun things I have to look forward to.
And I'm happy.
I feel content.
I've adjusted and am moving on.
It feels good.

Let this be the epitaph for my heart.

The ending of this boy interest has been something like a 5 headed dog.
Each head taking turns to gnaw on my bones.
Optimism, Hope, Paranoia, Bitterness, and Sadness.
I had the optimism and hope fueling this fantasy of a long distance crush.
I know, deep down, that it would be hard for me to be in a long distance relationship, so it would have to remain casual. I can't imagine not seeing my boyfriend for weeks on end. I can't imagine not being touched by someone you like that much for that long. Or to share their presence in a room. Or go do some fun activities together. I'm a physical, affectionate person. I need to see you, I need to touch you, laugh with you, enjoy your mind and your body. I'm that way when I like someone. There is only so much you can do with a cell phone. To miss someone, to be apart from the ones I love, it's like a piece is missing from me. I couldn't miss someone like that. Not a significant other.
That is my real side talking.
However.
When I have a crush on someone, I go balls to the wall. I am picky, so where there is someone that I like, it's intense. It's this feeling of "Where have you been all my life?". I get this a lot with new friends, new crushes, whatever. I have an overwhelming, intense personality. I go head over heels. I live in a dream-like state that is fueled by love and giddiness. I turn into a 13 year old girl. I get optimistic. I think that me and my crush can make it through anything. I imagine us being super heros when we are together and that we are going to take the world by storm. I lose sight of the logic in situations. "What? I only have$150 to last me the next 10 days? Aww. . but I really want to drive to Duluth. Fuck it, I don't need to eat for the last 4 days before we get paid again." It doesn't matter to me. There is no such thing as real world consequences. And the hope that I get, oh man. The hope is what removes gravity from my dreams so that I am floating around in the crazy delusion I live in. Each compliment I receive from my crush is like the sunshine on my face. Finally! A boy is seeing all the things that I am! Finally! I am the lucky one! It is my turn to get chosen! Yes!
But.
When you live on cloud nine. Floating around in your hope non-gravity air.
Paranoia is like lead weights on my ankles that drags me back down to Earth.
A seed has been planted and it tears me up.
And I feel it growing in the pit of my stomach.
I start to wonder about the girl that gets to be with him instead.
I wonder what she's got that is so special.
I become bitter.
What about the things he said to me?
What about all that stuff about being so smitten with me?
All the compliments become back sided because I was the one that got rejected.
Gee, I made you feel the way no one has for a long time?
Hmm. . .I'm sure. That's why I'm the one that got left behind.
I get really sad.
At first it's because of him.
Because I miss him.
Because I was looking forward to seeing him.
Because I really liked him. I really enjoyed this whole last month.
But then eventually, it has nothing to do with him.
I knew better. I've been grounded by all this negativity long enough to start thinking logically again. I knew better than to fall for a boy that lives so far away. I got carried away again, and I can recognise that now. I fall easily for a pretty face that whispers kind words into my ear.
I fall for the opportunity to be swept off my feet.
I fall for the opportunity to be romanticized.
And now, him bailing out, it's just a painful reminder of the rejection I've been facing.
It's been a rough year for the Phelpsie.
I'm trying, man, I'm trying!!
This whole dating thing is fucked.
I can't read people's minds.
I would rather just say it like it is.
"Hey, do you like me?"
"Yeah, I like you enough."
"Ok, do you want to kick it?"
"Sure."
"Alright. Do you want to make out later?"
"Mos Def, princess."
It's all that easy.
And yes, in my fictional conversation, he'd call me princess before we suck face.
So, in this sadness.
It becomes less and less about him,
and more about aaaaaaaall of them.
And that my search goes on.
Now I'm just numb.
I've been gnawed on by the dog.
I feel emotionally unavailable and I'm kind of just running on auto-pilot.
I'm beyond feeling anything right now.
It's just so sad and disappointing.
I like him so much.
But what are you going to do.
Suck it up and go to the liquor store.
Then drink that wine until you drown him out.
Because this love was all mine anyway.
Just because he doesn't like me doesn't mean that he can take it away.
Now, shoo dog, stop bothering me.



listening to: Magnetic Fields

From point 'A' to 'B'

I want to know how I can maintain this:


"I'm just going to throw this out there, consequences be damned. When I checked out your page, and then after reading your messages, all I could think was "This is the person I've been looking for, and I never knew if they were real or not." I've spent way to much of my life settling for someone that didn't want what I wanted or liked what I liked or enjoyed what I enjoyed, and it's really nice to know that there are people out there who are looking for that too, I just have to find them. Even if I never meet you, or hear from you again, at least I know there are people like you out there. So thanks, sincerely, for that."

"You are an amazing person Laura, and I don't feel even a little bit bad about being completely smitten by you.
I want to clarify that a bit:
I'm not smitten with you because of how you make me feel, though you make me feel wonderful about myself; like, "who could stop me?". I am smitten with you because of who you are. Because of what you do and what you say and how you say it. Having read your messages, and read your blog, and looked at your beautiful pictures, I would be head over heals even if you wanted nothing to do with me. I have never really felt that way before, and I was married for four years..."


I want to stay in this moment.
But I feel like my spell is already fading.
I wish I knew how to keep a man.
I wish I knew what trick that all the other women know.
I should keep my mouth shut, men love mystery.
I should get more interesting hobbies,
men love that. Right?




You got me. You got me really good. Now wtf are we going to do about it?

Snow.

I could watch the snow fall for days.
It's hypnotic.
I wish I could be trapped in a snow globe with Mum playing.

Swoon.

A boy wrote this about me, for me:

My impression of internet Laura.

I should perhaps preface this
with saying that I have learned more about her since,
with saying I do not 'believe' my impression of her now
with saying I can’t 'know' her,
even If we had spent lifetimes together,
but you are a student of people too,
and know how from the merest glimpse
the depth of what we can divine about these amazing creatures.

So, this is what I projected about our subject,
internet Laura:
(I hope you can forgive me if this waxes poetic;
this is copy&pasted from the text file I deposited my thoughts in,
and this prose was simply what served my purposes at the time,
though I must add, likely obviously, that I claim no poetic aspirations :D)

she tries to be calm and composed under pressure
to take life in stride
to have perspective
to appreciate life
to be curious and learn,
look into the blackness, look into the sun

she find herself often lost in day dreams
in blissful hazes of wonder
and sometimes she gets lost, plumbing the depth of life
sometimes she finds herself depressed
because life has treated her poorly
because her love has gone unreciprocated too many times
because of no apparent cause at all
because…

she watches, she watches
she watches people - sees them,
she even sees them for what they can’t admit to themselves they are
in their splendor, in their complexity,
in the darkness they make for themselves
in the tiny worlds they live in
in the blinders they don to guard themselves from the vastness of the world around them
and in their inextricable one-ness with it.

she are easily amused,
can amuse herself for hours on end
with the things that other wouldn’t look twice at

she can be by herself, though she can so love others
her energy, exuberance and wit attract many people to her
who if they care for her, or invoke her better natures,
may find themselves cared for and loved in turn

she can be down to earth to and rational
trying to evaluate life objectively
and in the same breathe floating off in the galaxies of thoughts

that her mind is a beautiful place
though it can be frightening, the places she goes

that she has a wicked sense of humor
that comes out in loud laughs and coarse language
in the verbal absurdity and conceptual irony
and sometimes, simply in a vibrant twinkle in her eye

that she is sensitive but also resilient

that she may want someone to share her life with
but she is better suited than many at being alone




He hurteded his hand, so he was typing single handedly.
For me :)
*yay*


I'm listening to: Pedro The Lion- The Longer I Lay Here.
". . .someone to help me help myself. . . ."

Me and My Cat.

I just said the phrase
"....as I just demonstrated."
to my cat.

And, earlier, I got kinda excited when I made it from the faucet
to the designated water bowl spot without spilling a drop.

My exciting morning rages on. . .

Is it 1993??

I found this treasure troll ring in the snow bank.
What in the hell?
Flashback to 1993 when I used to be obssessed with freakin' trolls!!!

Growing up.

How do I move forward when I don't know what direction I am facing?
Is this where I am supposed to be?
I normally really don't care,
I kind of just go with the flow,
life will point me in the right direction.
But I've kind of put a timer on myself as of today.
I need to know what I want to go to school for by April 10th.
Path #1
Go to Metro State for a bachelors in social work. Then move onto getting specific training/schooling for working with children and young adults that have autism. Ideally my
role would be focused relating to the indivduals through art in it's many different forms.
Path#2
Go to school to become a veterinarian. Schools in the area that offer vet programs are: UofM, MN School of Business, and Argosy U. Ideally I would like to become a certified veterinarian and be able to open my own animal clinic. I am sure that would mean I would also have to take a minor in business management so I could get a bank to loan me enough money to open a private clinic. I loved managing a store, I just hated the corporate side of it.

I love helping.
I think that if I were to continue to help people, I would get burnt out on it.
Path #1 seems like it would be really awesome. . .but I worry about getting worn out.
Path #2 seems like it would be really awesome. . .but I worry about my credit history
and whether or not I would ever be able to take out a business loan to open a clinic.
I don't know.
I am going to seek out some vet clinics in the area and see if they need a volunteer
for a couple days. That way I would be able to see what goes on 'behind the scenes'.

So.
Yup.
Time to do some thinking.
April 10th I am scheduled for my placement testing at Metro State.
So if I want to get a BA in social work. . .I'll keep that ball rolling.
Otherwise I'm applying for the other 3 schools to see if I can get accepted
into the veterinary technology program for an AAS.
Meh.
I don't like thinking about long-term stuff.

I make no claims.

I've decided to break away from as many labels as I can.
Obviously there are some I can't escape, but those that I can't, I wear with pride.
I am a woman.
I am a daughter.
I am a friend.
But the other ones. . .who cares?
Who cares who I pray to at night?
Or if I pray at all?
My faith is my business.
My faith does not define me.
Who cares which party I vote for?
Or if I vote at all?
I will not be defined by my president.
(for the record, I do vote. . I'm just sayin')
Who cares what my sexual orientation is?
My sex is my business.
And who I fuck doesn't define me.
Who cares what my job title is?
My job definatly doesn't define me.
It is a means to a meager living.
Where I live?
Who I talk to?
Whether my skin is white or black or darker or lighter?
Who cares about my age?
Who cares what I do to this body?
My tattoos, piercings or scars do not define me.
You may look at me and you may judge me based by my appearance.
But I will tell you this much, I'm sure you'll probably be wrong about me.
You don't know me.
And telling you that I am a christian,
Or an athiest,
or a buddhist,
or a republican,
or a socialist,
or a doctor
or a teacher
or a fucking dyke,
does that help you understand me better?
NONE OF THAT WILL DEFINE ME!!!!!
I will not make it easier for you.
I will shrug off your labels and indentities.
I won't sit nicely in your boxes, pigeon-wholed by you catagories.
You're going to have to get to know the real me.
Not by some means of an easy reference sheet defined by labels and components.
I won't let you skip through the process of stripping me down, layer by layer,
to see who I am at my core.
We are losing a beautiful experience
by simply offering up the Cliff's Notes version of ourselves.
But I want people to take the long road.
I want people to read the entire book of me.
I'm not a catagory.

Modern Girl. Modern World.

I'm a 27 year old Minneapolis woman who is dating in 2009. Here is my candid experience. It is sure to be an ongoing, prolonged story. Hopefully not prolonged into my 40's, however.
I will, somewhat shamefully, admit that all of these men have been found via online dating. My best friend, Anne, recommended it based off of some success stories from other friends. So, I thought, why not. Here are my experiences. Honestly.


Dude #1:
-------------------
Very nice gentleman. First date, I picked him up at the corner of the main street by his house because I cannot, honestly, for the life of me, figure out how to get to his place. I have MapQuest on my phone and I still got lost. It's dumb. I mean, I am. Anyway. I pick him up. Immediate, snap judgement, he's not bad looking. We go to Chatterbox for dinner. Conversation is good, we're having a good time, he's making me laugh, I'm making him laugh. It's good. I can't remember what he ordered, but I ordered some kind of chicken dijon foccacia sandwich. As I'm placing the necessary condemints on my plate to maximize my eating experience, he asks me "Can you handle gross stuff?". I'm thinking, I have worked at group homes for the last near-2 years, so I say "Yeah. What?". I pick up half of my dijon chicken sandwich as he says "I get massive boils." I take a big bite out of my sandwich as he launches full on into a detail description of his boils and the conditions and history of these things that grow on his body. It's not that he gets them all the time, just in humid/tropical climates. So, like Florida or Hawaii. By the end of his story, and the end of my half of sandwich, I'm not hungry and I'm not interested.
I tried it out. I tried to see if there were interests we could share. A common ground that we could bond over. I tried to be intimate with him. Well, that wasn't so hard, he was a good lover. But all in all. . . . I just thought. . no. I can't. I can't get over the whole boil thing. I want to go visit some tropical places! I don't want to have to lance some boils and drain some pus while I'm in paradise. Sorry babe.


Dude #2:
------------------------

This guy is funny. I felt funny talking to him. Our witty banter was easy to engage in. And he was into really cool stuff! I didn't feel half as cool as I thought he was. I mean, some smoker dude that goes to film school, works at a co-op, progressive political activist, listens to good music, and makes his own cool music? Total score! Witty mother fucker too. The first time we had sex, I wanted to girl-out and cuddle with him and he pulled away like he was going to get up and, what I figured was that he was going to go out for a cigarette (so cliche for me to think of that one, but he smokes a bit, so whatever, fuck you) but in actualality, when I made a disagreeing whimper to his departure, he said "I have to go poopie." I don't know why, I mean, really, but I thought it was pretty adorable. I know, right? Not right. Defecation. But the fact that he said "poopie". It kind of hit me in the soft spot. Well, he called me after our 6th date and called the whole thing off.


Dude #3
---------------------
This one kind of got me. I was pretty sad after the myspace break up letter that I got from this guy. No, this happened this year. Not in '96, when I was 12. I, the 27 year old girl, received a Myspace break-up letter from a 26 (?I think 26?) year old man.. He's a pretty cool guy. I mean, take Dude#2 and turn him into a non-smoker, awesome writer, musician. And make him a punk-rock real estate agent on top of that. With a big beautiful house that he lives in. Fuck yeah. That was this guy. I was totally into him. Very funny, very witty. Good kisser, never got to the sex part, because, as I mentioned, the Myspace letter, that happened around date 5 time. Yup. I guess an online break-up is kind of like "as it were in the begining, so shall it be in the ending" or whatever. . not so ashes to ashes and dust to dust though.


Dude #4
-----------------------
Wow, this date was something else. First date. I took this guy to Little T's for dinner, then we decide to go to the Triple Rock for some beers. Here is a snipet of our conversation:
Him: So, tell me something about you that hardly anyone knows.
Me: I buried a cat alive once.
Him: ****Look of horror on face****
Me: ***launch into story of my 14 yr old self that had to compassion kill a suffering, death-flopping cat that got ran over but I was too scared to carry out any other method of death***
Me: So, tell me something about you that hardly anyone knows.
Him: I shit my pants 2 weeks ago right before a job interview I had.
Me: **eruption of laughter quickly muffled with attempts to be sincere while inquiring more**
Things ended up not working out.
Not because I'm a cat killer. And not because he's a pants shitter.
Probably because when I thought someone tells you "I Love You" on the first date, they usually like you for more than a friend. Silly me.


Dude #5
---------------------
This only lasted one date. He seemed like a fun guy when I was emailing him. Witty, clever, superlative meaning funny. His pictures looked carefree and silly. A man that thinks dressing up for concerts is fun?? Awesome! I met my soul mate! Not really, but you know, close. Anyway, so I decided to go out for some mexican food with him. We ended up talking about him the whole time. Damn english professors. Always yacking about themselves. I'm a leo, I need some spotlight, dammit. ;) He had an interesting necklace. It was made of bones. Human bones. Yes, for real.


And that is where I am at right now.
I am now taking applications for dudes.

Unconditional.

I fuck up
and you still love me.
I take advantage of your kindness
but you still give more to me.
How could you still respect me
and all my screw ups and lack of responsibilities?
How could to still love me
when I burden you so much?
I'm a 27 year old womanchild.
Your time of raising me should be over.
Do you get sick of me?
Do you wish that I could get my shit together?
Do you ever wish I could be more like your married, child-bearing nieces?
When I call, is the first thought you have "how much money does she want this time." ?
I swear some day I will do right by you.
I swear some day I will take care of you.
Bear with me mom and dad.
Bear with me.
I'm almost there.




Listening to: Okkervil River- "He Passes 33"

Tired.

I'm tired.
After the last 2 weeks,
I feel like I have nothing left to give.
I'm spent.
I have been everything I could be to all that surround me.
I have made it through the obstacles of February.
And now. . .I'm tired.
Phycially.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
I have nothing left to offer you.
For now.
I'm ready to go home and cry.
Break down and become hysterical.
Then I can rebuild and ready myself for the storm that approaches.
I can do nothing to stop the things around me.
All I can do is take care of this body, mind, and soul
so that I can be more available to help those that are in need.


But, fuck, it's hard.
I feel anxious.
I just want to cry.
I want to be the one that gets to 'lose it'.
I keep praying that no one wakes up.
I thank every silent minute that slinks by.
Sleep, sleep, sleep. . .

Catch Up.

But he's 43.
I'm 27.
Which doesn't matter now.
But it would
when he dies before me.
And leaves me all alone
to catch up to him.
In our side by side plot.

Could I still love you the same,
knowing that you'll leave me someday?
Knowing I'll have to live out my last years
alone in a house full of memories and old ghosts.
Our children old and grown
With healthy families of their own.
Mortages and bills
Jobs and obligations.
No time for grandma
who's only responsibility is to remember to take her pills.
Pills to keep healthy
To stay alive.
Pills to keep smiling
to want to survive.

Each day I'll think of you.
And wonder if we'll really meet again.
In some after life.
Reincarnation. . .
will you still pick me as your wife?
Will you find me?
Maybe this time we'll have met as babes
and be given back the 16 years we missed.
Maybe we'll be souls
like boundriless entities of energy
that is and are all that is and was around us.
Every living breathing thing
every dead and dying form.
Every smile that fades from someone's face.
Everywhere and every place.
All the time and at every moment.
To be everything and nothing.
Not to know if you are me or I am you.
To be one.

But you're 43.
And I'm 27.
This is a love
that could never happen.






listening to: Andrew Bird-Noble Beast

Pele's Promise to Benton.

Ward Robert Phelps Jr.

I didn't really know you.
I don't think I saw you for the last year and a half leading up to your death.
I have some little memories that are insignificant
in comparison to the accumulative great moments of your life.
I'll remember the way you said grace at our dinner table.
Your rich, low voice that seemed like it came from a rock quarry or cemetery.
(kind of Johnny Cash-ish in a way)
The tinge of Utah that still clung to it in accent.
The way you precisely articulated each somber word
as you blessed our meal, our coming together, and each of us individually.
How you always said grandpa-y things to me in salutations.
Like "Well, who's this pretty girl over here!?"
Or "Now aren't you the prettiest girl I ever saw!".
Even after I got my tongue pierced.
Then my nose and lip.
You still said I was a pretty girl,
even though I know you really didn't like that stuff.
I'll remember how a few times you got emotional when you said goodbye to me.
You told me not to "let those boys take advantage" of me.
How in the world you ever knew my dating history was beyond me.
But you did.

So, I have those memories of you.
Not much.
But I am so grateful for you to have raised a son like my dad.
I have one of the best dads in the entire world.
I've always appreciated my dad, I've always known that I was lucky,
but working in the line of work that I do now,
I see the effects of having bad moms and dads.
(obviously mental illness comes from many different factors, but. .)
Having great parents has always kept me grounded.
I have great role models for parenting, marriage, and compassion for people.
I want to grow up and be just like my parents.

Now, whether my dad grew up wanting to be a mirror image of you,
or whether he said that he wanted to do everything different from you,
I don't know.
As far as I can tell, my dad and you had/have very different ideas of parenting.
And either way, I feel that it all is directly influenced by you.
I am not a good reporter of family history,
but from what I gather,
you and my father had a very strained relationship.
My dad was a bad ass and you were a disciplinarian and religious man.
My dad fucked up a lot and you cut your losses early on.
So when my dad knocked some girl up and then married her,
you turned your back when he needed you support.
My dad isn't a man that holds grudges,
but I think it is something that really formed his outlook on who he would be.
My dad has never turned his back on me.
I know that man would drown trying to hold my head above water.
I know that man would burn himself alive trying to save me from the depths of hell.
Everything I've ever asked for,
Everything I have ever needed,
my dad has sacrificed and scrapped up what he could to provide for me.
I know you were a good man,
and that you provided a home for your family.
I know you tried and I know you did what you thought was right.
And I bet it was hard having a son like my dad.
But he turned out good.
You raised a good man.
I love him. =
Thank you Grandpa.
My life is full of love and happiness because of where I come from.

Snow

Right now I'm waiting for the snow to dry from my hair.
It's clumping my hair into tendrils and snakey curls.
I like the thought that my hair now has been styled by the snow,
And that it is wet with something that fell from the sky.
From a cloud.
My head is always in the clouds, now it just feels more official.

The snow is falling in such mass quantities that I can hear it.
It's not the silence that you know of snow as it falls at night.
It's the lightest sound.
As it lands, it sounds like glass breaking at a very quiet quiet volume.

To play in snow,
no matter what age,
brings you back to your childhood.
I have always felt like a young girl again when I have stomped around in it.
Or to toss a handful in the air for the wind to catch.
To catch a snowflake on your tongue.
There is just something about it.
Something fun and carefree.
My friend, who's a grown-up (?), walked outside
and caught the contagious liberation from maturity that snow brings.
He laughed and threw some handfuls into the air, at me,
slipped, skittered to a stop, kicked mounds of fluffy snow,
twirled, giggled, yelled, threw his hands into the air
and had the biggest grin on his face,
for a moment, completely in the moment,
and in a moment of a memory,
of what it is to be a young kid again.

I love things that can do that to me.

Him.

I want you.
I want you to want me.
I want to call you and talk to you.
I want to go to your house and fuck you.
But I want you to ask me to.
I want to know what you're doing.
It'd kill me, but I want to know if you're dating.
I want to know what you think of Bon Iver's new album that just came out.
We never listened to Bon Iver together,
But I'll always think of you when I listen to it alone.
I miss you.
I wished you'd miss me too.

Pele.

My cat stares at me while I go to the bathroom.
Now I stare back.

The Olden Days

So, as I was bouncing around in my truck on the way home,
riding out all the potholes and monster gullies forming on 94;
I wondered, who fixed the roads in the olden days?
I mean, back in the covered-wagon-lead-by-horses days.
Laura Ingalls Wilder era.
Haha. . .my history references amaze me. . *sigh*
But anyway,
I'm wondering who fixed the dirt roads when they would get deep holes
or suffer from erosion and what not.
I mean, come on, you played Oregon Trail!
Broken wagon axel, wagon wheel, broken wagon tongue?
I remember playing the game and thinking that it was a sucky inconvience,
but to go through that in real life?
I wonder if it was common belief that it was shitty to run into a giant hole
and that if and when any of the wagon folk came upon a big nasty hole,
if maybe they all got out and shovled some dirt into the hole
and packed it down to even it out.
Because they know that it's crappy, so they are trying to be thoughtful
and mindful travelers.
Like maybe that was a rule of the road back then,
because if everyone did their part, the roads would be all maintained.
I wonder.

Revolution

First thing:
Brandi Carlile's cover of Creep. . oh man.
It's on right now, I fucking love it.
I wish I wasn't at home so I could sing along and hollar.
"I don't care if it hurts! Because I want to have control!!!"...
"I want you to notice, when I'm not around."
Yeah.
Fuck yeah.
That song rocks my socks.
Hee hee. . . just to keep you all updated on my soundtrack :)
I'll post my playlists one of these days, because I think I've got it down.


Okies. Song is over, I can focus again.
I just had a great night out with some co-workers
And it's like meeting some familiar strangers.
Because going out with these co-workers,
you're not bound by the shackles of work.
You can think and act freely without worrying that a client might overhear you.
Me and one of the ladies that came out tonight talked at length about vibrators,
and not to say I didn't think she masterbated or something,
I mean, to correct that, I just never thought of her and masterbation ever at all.
So to talk with this person, who is bubbly and sweet and fucking great
about dildos and vibrators. . .it was interesting.
Then to have another girl chime and and give us her expertise on the subject,
well, that is a whole 'nother thing!!!
I guess that is a slightly graphic way to say that I had fun discovering these people.
People that I know and rely on in the workplace,
but to see them in a different light
and to be able to appreciate them in a different, more personable way.
I don't want to compromise my leval of care for the clients I work with,
but dammit, there are so many interesting co-workers I share time with at work
that I want to talk and talk and talk,
and as bad as it is, I get annoyed to be interrupeted with client-care!!!
Because I want to have 1:1 time with my co-worker!!!
Hahaha. . so awful.
I will blame my divulges on the couple beers I had.
If anyone asks.
I don't really think this! Right? It's the 3 Blue Moons talking.
Oh lord Laura. . .

Okies, onto my original original thought. . .
Writing children's books.
Let's go this way.
Recently an awesome friend brought up something about writing children's books.
He'll write, I draw.
Great. I love it.
I was thinking more about this.
Two different thoughts within this whole children's book vein.
1. How awesome was Shel Silverstein in real life?
I mean, The Giving Tree??? Dang, it's like how I live my life!!! I always want to give. Give until there is nothing left. Reading this story as a young child really helped shape that, in a way, I think. I found that to be so beautiful. All the tree wanted was the boy's company. . and she wanted for him to sit, but when he couldn't, she accepted that. I love it. Selfless giving. I like to think I give selflessly, but I don't. Not like that. I get something out of it. I feel great and I feel happy knowing that I made someone else happy. Whoa, this is not about me, back to Shel. Have you seen the pictures he has on the backs of his books? He looks like a beastly beardy man!! I wonder what he was like in his day-to-day life. He had to be one nice son of a bitch, because anyone that can put those kind words and insights into stories like that. . I mean, you have to be nice as a person, but also creative to put those morals and values into a story that will impact people. . .I bet he was nice. I wonder if he got a chance to be a father. I bet he was a good father. A charming quality in a man is if he will make a good father. The ability to say grown-up things in a child-like way. I think kids can handle big real-world problems, you just have to break it down into chewable pieces so they don't become overwhelmed by new ideas. Children would have the best reaction to real-world grown up bullshit. . kids say what they think without the worldy politics influencing their words. I'm excited to have kids someday because I'm excited to be able to talk to them. Just to say "Hey, what do you think about that?" They are infinitly interesting.

2. I want to change the world. I thought a great way to do it would be to model good behavior through raising some decent kids. My children that have hearts of gold and magical powers will heal the world by their rightous acts of goodness. I was thinking, another way of doing this. This whole healing thing. I should expand. Me and my pack of kids won't be able to reach every child and needing person that is out there! We will be amazing, but we'll still just be human. I was thinking. . .what if I could write a children's book that had such good content, that it could influence children to be better people? Share more, love more, smile more, be more thoughtful. . I don't know. How amazing would that be!?!? To influence people when they are young and impressionable to grow up and be more helpful to strangers and to be more accepting of their world and all the people in it. I feel like a level of revolution or positive change has to happen in our youth. They are the future, if they were brought up to love everyone and accept people and to have unconditional compassion. . .what a world we would live in today! So that's what it is. . .I want to write a book/collaborate on a book that encompasses some good moral values that could help bring forth generations of good people. That's not so hard right? Haha. . yeah.

Ironically I am finishing this posting on this song:
Pedro the Lion: Blueprint of Something Never Finished.
Haha

Moustaches

Today feels like a moustache day.

Please.

"Can you just come over here and kiss me like there won't be complications tomorrow?"
"You know I can't do that."
"Please."
"No."
"But I want to feel like I have no bones."
"You know that there is no such thing as 'no complications' when it comes to us."
"Can we just pretend that there isn't a tomorrow, just for tonight?"
"You need to stop calling me."
"I know."

The world is as you are

I just heard a quote.
It's my favorite for the moment.
"The world is as you are."
Fuck yeah!!!

It is to say:
"Life is what you make of it."

Right?
Because I am the controller of my fate.
I see the world as I want to see it.
If I'm having a good day,
it's because I released myself from all the shackles of need.
I freed myself from the clinginess to control things.
I am accepting things as they are.
If I'm having a bad day,
It's because I am creating my own misery.
I am the only one that can change my life.
I am the one that creates my path.
Any set backs are just obstacles.
Any obstacles are just power that I relinquished to someone or thing.
To be really happy,
To be totally free,
Is to see that the world is as it is,
And that I create my happiness or misery
By the way that I interact with this world, this life.

Damn!
That line is sending vibrations into my body!


Oh, I had Horchata for my first time today.
My life is changed forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Horchata is a cold, sweet rice-milk, flavored with cinomin)
Seriously, go to this mexican restaurant:
La Poblanita
Lake St & 17 Ave S
1617-1623 E Lake St
Minneapolis MN 55407
It's so good.
Pretty darn authentic.
Cheap food, huge portions!!
Great strawberry milkshakes too :)
I've eaten there twice and have been very pleased.
I'm not kidding, go there.
Go now!

Get Gone

I am feeling that travel itch again.
I need to go some place different.
A change of scenary.
I don't have money saved up,
so just a little trip will do.
Drive off somewhere,
look at stuff,
sample the community,
take some pictures,
breathe in other people's air,
and then check into some crappy motel somewheres.
I really want to go to a lighthouse.
I am finding a certain romance with lighthouses lately.
And maybe it's just 'Dan in Real Life' that started it all,
but I find a symbolism in light houses that mirrors
everything I have ever wanted in another person.
A light in the darkness.
A vigil over chaotic seas.
Something solid and stoic.
There are 5 lighthouses up along Lake Superior.
It'd be a 2.5 hour drive.
I could do that.
Weather grant me passage!

Maybe if.

Maybe if I gave more,
he'd see my selfless acts
And see a beauty there that he couldn't live without.
Maybe if I smiled more often,
he'd see how happy I am,
and feel that he needed my smiles around to cheer him up.
Maybe if I cracked more jokes,
he'd see what a good attitude I have
and he'd keep me close to tell him to keep going when he's down.
Maybe if I had cooked a better dinner for him
he'd see what a good homemaker I am
and he'd realize how nice it would be to have someone that'd take care of him.
Maybe if I made him more trinkets and affections
then he'd see my creativity
and love me for my ability to see art in all the angles of life.
Maybe if my butt were more shapely and my gut more slender
then he'd be able to look past the outside
and love what I have on the inside.
Maybe if I had sang along with him in the car that night
he'd hear my voice
and feel like he wanted to sing along with me forever.
Maybe if I kissed him the right way
he'd never want to stop.
Maybe if I had tried harder
Maybe it would have all worked out.
Maybe he just hasn't seen the best parts of me.
Maybe he doesn't know what he passed up.
Maybe if I would have shown him all the sides of me
that make me more beautiful inside
than she is on the outside
maybe he would still be here in my bed
rather than chasing after her instead.

CLOUD CULT!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!

I realized how much I fucking love Cloud Cult.
I put their album down for about 3 weeks, and this morning I revisted it.
--->Which as a side note, is my favorite thing to do.
I take a cd that is near played-out for
me, by means of myself -really, and I bury
it and put it out of my mind for awhile, then I go back to it and listen to it again.
It's like falling in love again.
It's like the saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder".
Yeah, that happens, for sure. Or when I bust out something from the vault,
(It's surprising how much of "Very Unnecesary" by Salt 'n Peppa that I
remember the words to. ) and I get to time warp myself back to the time that
I listened to that album/artist. Ok, tanget over, moving on.
I was listening to 'Meaning of 8' on my way home. Damn!!! What a remarkable cd!!!!
Everytime I listen to it, I still love it. Dare I say that it is my most favorite cd of all time??
Shit dogg, it's getting close. There are songs that I get a little choked up on when I sing along with them. And I like that. I like that a song written by a stranger can move me personally. It applies to me in my own way and by my own relation. Knowing some of the background with this particular band makes it clear to what events the lyrics are translating, but still, the music seems to embrace all situations as such and gives you a means to overcome the dire straights that you're going through. This band has suffered something so great and yet Craig, lead singer dude, is able to sing "I guess I'm lucky." What the fuck? I mean, he lost his 3 year old son. It was totally unexpected and unavoidable. To me, losing your child would be the worst pain ever. I can't imagine. But here is this husband and wife on stage, bleeding their hearts out for us all to enjoy. They invite us into their world by means of beautiful music. Beautiful, uplifting music!! "It's a song, Life is like a song, It's a song, a hummable song" Fuck yeah it is!! This band moves me. This band makes me feel that no matter what, as long as you LOVE - you will overcome. As long as you take it in stride, keep your head on level, and LOVE everyone you encounter. . you'll be okies. Oh, and recycle. They seem to like that too.

So, it is with everyone that is important to me, that I must pay hommage to this band. I need to show the love I have for them to them. But I don't want to come off as some creepy groupie weirdo girl. I have enough trouble seeming like a creepy weirdo girl :) haha BUT I really want to give them something. The whole band! Something to say. . .thank you. Something to show my gratitude. Sometimes I don't feel like my words are enough to show someone how thankful I am that they are in my life. Sometimes I have to make things to show them how appreciated they are. I want to do that for Cloud Cult. For showing me that it's darkest before the sunrises.
Damn. Great fucking band.

"Take Your Medicine" is one of my favorite songs. It's great. It was this song that really broke me down a few weeks ago when I had a hard night at work. I was driving home and it came to the latter part of the song, where the lyrics go:
"These are things that I keep hidden in my belly, I can't see them but they control my life. For a moment you can see right through me, see right through me, Help me make this right."
Damn. I bawled. The whole drive home. Pounding it out with a closed fist to my chest. ."Help me make this right." with my hot tears streaming down my cold cheeks. I'm sure all the people that I drive by on 94W at 9am think I'm nuts. Everyday it's something different that I'm rocking out to in my car. Everyday it's some sort of antics for the morning commuters to be amused with.

*sigh*
But yes. I love you Cloud Cult.
Thank you.

Dogs.

It works

This is a test. This is only a test.
I can blog from my phone.
Fuck'n A man.
Oh, and that isn't a test, obviously, it's a fire.
More wacky phone photos are sure to come.
Now get out of here.

Super Connected

*yay* one of my favorite Broken Social Scene songs.

I'm craving a beautiful experience.
I have the feeling of needing to be known.
Perhaps that is why I started to write blogs again,
aside from wanting a profile so I could make
comments on *other* people's blogs. hee hee :)

But, I want to deeply know another person.
I want to have a close close friend to confide in.
To share with.
I want someone to know my ambitions
And the goofy trains of thought that run through my head.
I want a co-creator, co-conspiritor.
A co-pilot on adventures and travels.
Someone that knows who I was, who I am, and who I'm trying to be.
Someone that I am fiercly loyal to and that I can trust and rely on.
Someone who accepts me on days that I am a bitchface.
And someone who doesn't take advantage of me when I'm being nice.

I have amazing friends.
I have friends that are there for me.
I have friends that I tell secrets to.
Actually, I'm really excited because
I finally have a girl friend that I hang out with once in awhile.
A girl that I can text/call when I'm having a bad day.
We bitch to each other about men.
Make snarky comments about things.
And knit together :)
I have not had a close female friend since my friend Anne moved away.
My friend Anne is the most beautiful amazing passionate person
that I have ever gotten the chance to get close to.
I admire her strength to live and pursue her dreams.
She and I felt so deeply for each other.
I told her everything.
I miss how intense our friendship was.
I miss hugging her and holding onto her for dear life.
I miss knowing that no matter where or when,
she would come for me, she would be there for me.
I want her to come back, the distance has hurt the connection.
I miss having someone to cry to.
Someone to sing with
(I love singing, but I'm terrified to do it in front of anyone)
I miss having someone to celebrate with.

As I date around to try and find a good guy,
I realize that I'm really just looking for a best friend.
I mean, if I get to have nakie time with this friend, bonus,
but really,
I'm just trying to find an unwavering intense friendship.
Someone to talk to for hours and hours and hours
until we're both just sitting there in silence
completely in awe of the revelations
and ideas that are being exchanged.
I love having talks with people that almost require
that moment of silence to digest everything.
I get to have these moments from time to time.
I have a pretty great group of friends as it is.
I guess I shouldn't be greedy by hoping for more.
Maybe I used up my one great friend that life granted me.
Maybe all we get is that one person that keeps us from coming apart.
Maybe I was so lucky with Anne
that now my friends will be just normal, adult friends
that talk about normal adult grown up stuff.
Friends that keep it light and just want to talk about how my day was.
Or what diet they are trying.
Or what they are planning on doing this weekend.
Which is fine.
I will take every interaction and appreciate it greatly.
A friend is a friend is a friend.
I feel like I'm getting whiney.
And ungreatful sounding.
Bah!
Where did my teen years go?
With the friends that I had that felt it all.
With the dreams that I had that were unmarred by reality?
I am still very much the person I was back then.
But it seems like everyone else grew up.
I don't want to grow up.
Ever.
I still want the friendships I had when I was 17.
Oh!
Another great Broken Social Scene song.
"you used to be one of the rotten ones and I like you for that. .
now you're all gone, got your make up on, and you're not coming back. . ."

*sigh*
breathe.
keep creating.
everything that should happen, will.
as long as i am open to every experience
as long as i embrace every heartbeat and breath
as long as i appreciate all the people that have walked through my life
i will be better at who i am
i will live more fully
i will see more clearly
be open.

As You Wish.

I'm happy.
I had a really great date last night.
I went out with a boy that, I think, likes me.
I mean, I'm pretty sure he likes me.
It was a great date.
And he wasn't afraid to show me he liked me.
It was just so refreshing to be with a guy that was open about what he was feeling.
It's been a long time since I've had that.
Like, romantically.
Someone that told me "I like you".
And grabbed for my hands.
And looked at me when I wasn't looking.
And asked me "Who are you? How are you real?"
I'm smiling, thinking about it.
I got very caught up in every moment of it last night.
Someone was curious about me.
Someone looked at me the way that I look at people that I've had crushes on.
(It was like role reversal of the normal situations I'm in, haha)
He would smile at me, and then look away while smiling, and then look back.
I mean, it was a cute, shy kind of thing.
But also in that way, you know, that you're looking away
because you feel silly for how big your smile is.
And how goofy and googly-eyed you must look.
I like this person.
And they like me.
And that is just. . .amazing.