Monday, June 29, 2009

♫ Because My Give A Hoot's Broken

Do you ever feel like people are standing in line, waiting for you to fall? That maybe, some people seek out interest in your life, because they need something to talk about? It seems, when our own self doubts or consciences attack us, we find a way to find faults in somebody else.

I have to say, recently, I’ve been that girl. I’ve been the one backed in to a corner. Talked about. Called, just to get something to talk about. Not a genuine call, but one that gives them something to take further. To be honest, I let it get to me.

Funny how things change.

I’ve come a long, long way, in the last oh...three or four years. Thanks to some big mistakes, some great friends, and some awesome ex-friends, I’ve been down quite the road. I realized, that the more you burry yourself in other people’s lives, and feelings, the quicker you lose track of yourself, and your own mistakes. You’ve got to be honest with yourself, before you have any right to be honest to anybody else.

Thanks to time constraints, the clock is helping me bite my tongue. I’ll leave you with two awesome quotes*. They should make you smile. They aren’t to be taken so much literally, but to plant a little bit of thought about what you are made of:

"....Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater. If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby. If you give her a house, she'll give you a home. If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal. If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her. So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit."

"Being a bitch, means I won't compromise what's in my heart. It means I live my life MY way. It means I won't allow anyone to step on me. When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it, I am defined as a bitch. The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone's maid, or when I act a little selfish. It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I "should" be. I am outspoken, opinionated and determined. I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that.

So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won't succeed. And if that makes me a bitch , so be it. I embrace the title and am proud to bear it."

Happy Monday!

Yours Truly,

*Disclaimer: The language above may be offensive. Feel free to insert "brat" wherever necessary.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

♫ Because we DON'T ♥ Mosquitoes

I hate mosquito bites. And for some reason, it seems they are generally drawn to me, more than others. So, out of sheer curiosity, I went on the hunt, to find any website that tells me what they are drawn to...whether it matters if you are male or female, pretty or ugly, pregnant or non, perfumed or dirty, etc.

So, thanks to being covered in the annoyance, twittering about it, and having such a cool knowledgeable boss (no, I am not a kiss-ass), I did some research. I’ll name some facts, for every one you already knew, you get a point. Let’s see how knowledgeable you are about these annoying little creatures:

#1. Mosquitoes are an insect!

Not just an insect, but one with a history. The little bugs have been bugging for 30 million plus years. Honing their sensors on what tastes sweet, they’ve matured from plain ol’ "bugs" to downright "pests".

#2. They are drawn to Carbon Dioxide, Visual Sensors, and Heat Sensors.

Their chemical sensors work up to 100 feet away. Quite the distance for having such a little nose, eh? Part of our breathing, and also certain chemicals in sweat, can draw them in. Don’t wear clothing that contrasts with a natural background. They’ll see you, and stalk you. They also have little heat sensors, letting them know that something is alive and blood-suck-worthy, and not dead and a waste of time.

Moral of the story: Wear camouflage, while holding your breath, and avoiding work. For best results: Live in Antarctica.

#3. They have three main body parts.

The head, the thorax, and the abdomen. For all that boring goodness, visit one of the websites I post for source information.

#4. Their bites itch, as a minor allergic reaction.

The irritating itch and swelling of bites, does not come from the size of the mosquito. It’s actually different depending on the person, and how their immune system reacts. The mosquitoes insert saliva while sucking (doesn’t that just sound lovely?). Our immune system reacts to the protein in their saliva, and has an allergic reaction (raised annoying little unattractive bumps).

#5. Don’t scratch the bites!

This should be a given, but we just can’t resist! It makes it feel so much better! Oh wait. It really doesn’t, does it?

So...(here is where the really cool boss comes in to play), I was given a list of at-home, at-work, at-play, remedies. I will list my favorites, and give you the link to play with on your own time.

A. Rub a bar of soap over the bites
B. Put a piece of scotch tape over them. Not only will it stop the itch, but if you do scratch it, it will only scratch the tape, and not spread it all over your skin.
C. Ice Cube!
D. HOT Water
E. Nail Polish, Because, let’s face it, everybody wants to look all pink striped all day long.
F. Toothepaste
G. Tea Use a hot tea bag and place it on the bites. Does tea cure everything?

List is long enough...check out this link:

Annoying Bite Relief

This concludes my mosquito lesson. Please let me know how you scored, your own remedies, etc. I spared you the pictures of my elephant sized one, I prefer you show the same courtesy.

Yours Truly,

Sources of knowledgeable information:

Wikipedia Mosquito Page
How Stuff Works
Coolest Boss Ever's Twitter Page

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

♫ This part of my life... this part right here?

An update. First though, an apology. Im sorry that this writer has such a block lately. I’ve gotten a few letters of hate for not getting things posted daily. I do apologize for my lack of blog. I will get it back on soon, I promise.

So, for lack of better things to write about, you get to hear more about my life. And not so much in the "here’s the third person perspective, now relate it back to you" way, more just the "listen if you want to, this is how it’s been" way.

This part of my life... this part right here? This is called "happyness." (spelled wrong because I stole it from a movie)

I feel like Im floating. Like Im on a high called life. Like a normal person, I still have bad days. But when I look around at everything going on, or the things I have to be grateful, they tend to outweigh the things that drag me down...and that, is a first in a long time.

#1. My sister.

This girl, whether she knows it or not, is being a lifesaver right now. She’s a built in army in my little house. She slumbers in my bed while living between college and work and play. She laughs me to sleep every night. She loves my angels like nobody else. She puts up with my whining. She is sympathetic to my past. She understands every move I make, and if she doesn’t, she supports me anyway. This relationship is growing, and at top notch speeds. She found this boy, that makes her laugh like I’ve never seen her laugh. And the best part (from my perspective of course), is that he is friends with my boy. So we get to be inseparable, as often as needed.

AND...she had this mission to bring out the girl in me. And is succeeding. We got stuck in this little crepe’ store in a mall during a tornado a few weeks ago, and I managed to get so stressed out that my OCD so nicely kicked in to over-drive, and she helped me compulsively buy a skirt, a shirt, and high heels. This shopping virgin, is de-virginized.

#2. My girls.

They are growing like weeds. Not the weeds that you want to hack down with wireless weed eaters either. No. The kind of weeds you actually pay for and plant and nurture and grow. The sunflower kind of weeds. Yes. My girls are my sunflowers. I hear nightmare stories about terrible 2’s and 3’s...and so far, they are 4 and almost 3, and neither have ever been terrible. Of course, they have their moments of independence...and it’s generally first thing in the morning when I can’t tolerate it, but they are never kicking the floor, biting my leg, screaming at a spine-chilling level, or deserving of the term "brats" (not brats, like the things you eat, braaaats.) Thank God. These girls, are my reason for living.

Kyanne: My 4 year old, is now up to the average 3 year old height, that's right, she's catching up folks. According to the doctors, she'll stand at a tall 5'2. She played her first T Ball game yesterday like a pro, well, someday pro with her best friend, and one of mine. She also puts herself up to the task of getting me out of bed every morning, and getting her sister dressed. Im telling you, if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't make it to work at all.

Leyna: is a firecracker. Finding her independence, she challenges me every single day. Lately, her favorite thing to do is look at worms from a really far distance then scream like a girl (who's kid is this?!), and "shake her booty". (Picture Below) Her least favorite thing to do is go to bed, especially, when everybody else is having a party out in the living room without her.

#3. My man.

I gotta say...he continues to throw me through these unexpected loops. He’s stronger than anybody I know, more sensitive than he’ll ever admit, and don’t tell anybody, seriously growing on me. He calls me "Baby Girl". And I cant get enough of it. Him, and his amazing family, continue to support us, take care of us, love us, and accept us, and everything we bring to the table, regardless of what we throw at them. They so kindly share their homes, pack all of us in to tight quarters to sleep and shop, gather around their tables, and share their mosquito’s (kidding, kidding, though...the one bite on my elbow that is the size of a golfball, is definitely not Wyoming-made).

#4. Home.

They say home is where the heart is. Well, my heart is either massive, or very talented, because it’s spread all over the place.

Part of it, is in Cody, Wyoming. Thanks to Facebook, I have reconnected, or been able to grow and keep friendships alive from this homeland...and...big yay!, I get to go HOME next week. (thank you Linda for opening your home, setting us up, and spoiling us rotten) I get to see my friends, both close and long-lost. I get to see the mountains. I get to breathe it all in. AND I get to share it with my man, and my girls.

Another chunk of it, is right here. Not so much Cheyenne WY, I gotta say, I’ve never felt at home here, but wherever my girls are, and my family, and my bestest best friend is, will always be home. Though I plan on dragging both my girls, and my bestest best friend with me, wherever I land next.

My job. Sick, right?! I love my job so much, that I would consider it part of my home. I mean really, I spend 40 hours plus there a week, it’s a good chunk of time. I’ll admit, I’ve been a little discouraged lately. But I really do have the coolest boss ever, the best co-workers, a fabulous walking buddy that I’m getting seriously attached to, a top notch espresso barista, and a superb chat buddy.

This girl, is happy. For lack of any better word. And I owe every single one of you for it. Thank you for making me realize, that right here right now, I am right where I belong.

Yours Truly,

Monday, June 22, 2009


So, over these past few weeks leading up to the big move I have had slight and insignificant panic attacks. They usually strike at the same time each day- when I'm laying down with Mal, waiting for him to fall asleep, letting my thoughts wander. Not such a good idea. With these down times and free thoughts come the words some have (unintentionally) hit me with. They all differ in their tone, meaning and conveyance. Nevertheless, "It's going to be so hard for you" doesn't exactly strike confidence into this girl's heart.

So, rather than focusing on the failing economy or the masses that are also seeking employment and housing, I am focusing on the goodness of God. His providence, care for His children and promise to supply all of my needs. And in doing this, I also remember the past times when it seemed as if all was hopeless and going nowhere. In England, the Lord showed me over and over that He would take care of me.

It's a silly, sheep-like thing to forget how many times He helped me and go on panicking over every day's little worries.

Note to self:

Sarah, dear, you are a child of the Living GOD, the Creator of the Universe, the Master Mixer (remember that blog?), the God who is bigger than any piece of currency or credit check. He holds you in His hands and will never let go. Trust Him. Remember how often He has proved Himself to you and meditate on His promises. When He leads you beside still waters and causes your cup to overflow, then you will shout His praises to the people and tell them of the good things He has done for you. Thank Him, now. Show Him that you trust Him, completely. He knows of the things you need, before you need them! He has gone before you to make a way and will bless you because He. Loves. You.

Psssst. This isn't just for me, ya know. Anyone, anyone who is a child of God can take these words and use them for their own edification.

In saying this, I would like to give thanks to my Saviour, my Shepherd and my Lord for all that He will do for me, Rase and Malachi. Jesus, I know that you know my heart's desire. I thank you and praise you for the wonderful things you have done. I trust you. I know that you are for me and I ask for you will to be done in my life. You are so good to me and I will always give glory to You for the blessings you pour our out on me.

1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,

3 he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Comfort Zone

Naomi couldn't have said it better. Cheyenne was a place I hated to love. Hailey, on the other hand, is a place I love to love. It's green, surrounded by mountains and has more trees than we know what to do with.

Still. I feel so... out of my comfort zone. I've been here before- I grew up here. But, I half expect them to be as they used to be ten years ago.

I love this place, but my comfort zone has been tested. My sandbox messed up, if you will. I know what it is. I'm missing all of my lovely peeps that had to stay in the windy city. And it's only been four days!!

So, why is it that we find the best people in the worst places?

*ding- lightbulb!*

I know why. To make those places bearable. My lovies- you made the worst place a haven for me. This is not a "I'm moving on and shall find other lovlies to fill you place and make my new home the best ever" blog. It's giving honor to whom honor is due.

You rock. Because in the desert, you were/are my oasis.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

♫ For All You 20-somethings...

Perhaps it is because I haven’t lived through another decade yet, but in my opinion, your 20’s is the hardest transition a person goes through. I know that deaths are difficult, I know that mid-life crisis’ must be hard, and menopause cant be fun. But you must go from depending completely on somebody else, to finding your independence, in a matter of years. Please, correct me if I am wrong. I am not saying that life gets easier, or that you don’t have to make choices through your whole life. I am saying that from the moment you turn 20, life as you know it, changes forever.

Most 20 year old's are in college, they are leaving home for the first time, they are drinking legally for the first time, they are getting married, having babies, getting unmarried, finding a real job, losing jobs, losing interests, finding wings, hitting bottom, and realizing, that whether we like it or not, everything revolves around money, that we don’t have. We lose friendships from the past, and build new ones for the future. Society demands our opinion, our maturity, our immaturity, our young minds, and our decisions. Parents request we find our independence, after teaching us to be dependent (not a mistake folks, just part of life).

The hardest part, is everybody is going through it, and every single one of us feels alone.

Luckily, we’re not alone. And, though I could go on and on about how to survive, I was blessed (Thank you Ashley) by a fabulous article today, that said it better. A guide, to survival. And a written form of support, that helps us understand what we are going through, and realizing that regardless of how much you think so, you are most definitely not alone.

I beg you, especially if you are in your 20’s and trying to transition to reality and adulthood, to follow the following link:

10 Tips For Twenty Something Transformation

Yours Truly,

Idaho! No, you-da-ho!

This is just a little check-in to narrate how our drive went. Ugh. For those of you with Facebook, you've probably already seen my pictures of the clouds, the crying boy, the Idaho sign.

Yep, we're here. After a day and a half, 600-something miles and four hours of non-stop crying on Malachi's part (not a carseat baby, apparently) we've made it to our destination. I'm mourning the days of an eight hour drive from Cheyenne, Wyoming to Hailey, Idaho which I could do with one fill up and no kid. Sigh.

Here in Hailey, it's been raining as much as it was in Cheyenne. So, it's green everywhere. Remember the scene in Land Before Time, when the little dinos finally discovered the Great Valley? That's what my home looks like! I heart it.

Anyway, thank you all (Jay from the best smoothie shop this side of the Mississippi, Naomi, Lisa, Ashley, Jennifer... mom, dad and Jane) for your send off. It made leaving harder, to see your tear filled eyes, but more hopeful for the future. Since you've all promised to come visit me!

And, thank you, Susan and Jimmy for opening your home to us! We do appreciate it more than words can say.

So, until any particular adventure presents itself, I'm going to let Nomz spill her creative gut. :)

Monday, June 15, 2009

♫ My Sazaran: A Fresh Start

My Sazaran.

Most of you know Sarah as my co-blogger. Some of you may know her as a co-worker. Some, are lucky enough to call her friend. I, have been lucky enough to have her as all three. She’s quite the woman, isn’t she? Let’s list why:

# 1. Her passion for life is absolutely contagious. You can feel it in her writing, you can see it in her eyes.
#2. Her inner strength is overwhelming. I’ve seen what this girl can handle, and it is nothing short of miraculous.
#3. She’s the only person under 5’5 that can handle having a 10lb kid mostly natural (see her latest blog for thatstory.
#4. She’s a woman of God, and proud of it. The biggest part of this, is her faith in Him. It takes a special kind of person to have faith that all pieces will fall together.
#5. She’s quite the mamma. She’s got one of those bouncy beautiful perfect little boys, the kind with big brown eyes that can melt even the iciest of souls, but, her passion was also passed along to this little man, and he’s proven himself challenging. She’s the only one I know that’s up for the job, and she’s doing it like a champion.
#6. When you’re lucky enough to be called her friend, she will risk everything she has in her, to stand tall for you.
#7. For being so little (I promise mah dear, no more short jokes), she has the strength of an army, a voice that commands, and more love than most hearts can hold.
#8. She is a firework. There is no other word that fits this girl better.
#9. Her eyes are stunning. And her lips perfect. Let’s face it, she’s downright beautiful on her worst day.
#10. She’s one of my best friends, and from the moment she walked in to my life, it changed forever.

This pretty little lady of ours, is making another move. I’ll admit, when I pulled around the corner to her street today and saw that big ol’ moving truck in her drive way, I broke down. She’s become family to me. She’s a sister, and that little boy of hers, is practically one of my own. And I had to pull it together, get out of the car, and realize, that the thing she needs more than anything else, is to realize we are all behind her.

I’ve been faced with two goodbyes this weekend. One, that will be permanent that we will breach another day. And miss Sarah, and her fresh start that is just begging for her to begin.

I hate how goodbye’s tend to feel like an end. People make them out to be more like a death, rather than a new life. Most goodbyes, are not the end of the book, they’re just a new chapter. My Sarah, Im behind you every step of the way. I can’t wait to see your new life take off. I will miss your laugh, our Chickfila gatherings, our Plato’s closet adventures, and your strength. Thank God, technology has brought us to this blog, Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, email, texting, and more. This is goodbye, now we just get a different view of the life you’re already living. I miss you so much it hurts, but I am so grateful that God brought you to state that you hated to love, because I can’t remember what my life was like before you were in it. This isn’t really goodbye at all...just a change of scenery.

Yours Truly,

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Happy First Birthday, Malachi!

Mah boy is one. I can't believe it. My sunshine, my reason for waking, my heart- has successfully lived the first year of his life with only minor bumps and major moments of joy.

And here I reminisce. WARNING: graphic content. Disclaimer: Malachi was 98% bigger than any other baby at 41 weeks. My experience is not normal.

Malachi was one week late, exactly. Friday morning I was to be induced, but other babies had decided to come naturally and so, I got bumped. Fast forward to Friday night, in the delivery ward and (if I hadn't been in that zone) I would have chuckled and muttered something about always getting my way.

Without the desire or expectation of a medal, I wanted Malachi to be born not under the influence, so I opted to deny an epidural. Really, women, if you want to have your babies naturally- know that it is totally possible. It's amazing how the body totally takes over, when preparing to deliver a baby. I went into this zone for each contraction; by far, the most concentration I have had at any other time in my life. It's easy to deal with the pain if you're able to remember to breathe.

Enter Rase. My hero. If it weren't for him, reminding me to breathe, I surely would have passed out. He also greatly helped me with the back pain of each contraction.

I'm telling you right now, had it not been for the hospital's amazing shower and hot water tank that is the size of my house, I would have been lost. I think I spent six hours with the water blasting right on my stomach.

Whilst waiting for the "grand opening", I practiced every delivery position my brain could pluck from the pages of What To Expect. You name it, I did it: sideways, squat, standing, on the medicine ball, on all fours- everything.

This one thing I was not told about labor. When a woman's cervix dilates, that woman will shake- uncontrolably. It's true. Think of the worst case of the chatters ever- without the cold- and that's your body doin' it's thang.

With each of my contractions came such agonizing back pain. Enter Rase. My hero. He applied counter-pressure to my back on command. Poor thing fell asleep between each contraction, though. Jealousy has never been my thing... psh.

Then came the time to push my little watermelon out of that lemon sized hole. Nothing worked.

Another warning: if you have a weak stomach, skip this next paragraph.

If you have a high sense of morality and cannot even fathom the thought of someone other than your husband seeing you naked, you'll get over it real quick while delivering. After having your hoo-ha hanging out there for everyone to gawk at for a few hours, you'll think back to that naive girl and laugh at her silliness. Seriously. I think I had 15 (?) different people come in and out of my room while I sat, butt naked, on the bed remembering to breathe. Also, the whole pooping thing while pushing? Yeah, shit happens. Hey, I'm just being truthful. I kept apologizing over and over- but after the doctor politely informed me (whilst cleaning up after me) that it showed I was using the right muscles I thought, "What the hey, I might as well get it all out now." And I didn't blush from then on out.

Twelve hours of labor and two hours of pushing every other minute, I was exhausted. Enter my other hero- Dr. randall a.k.a "Godsend". With a swoop, she came in, measured my cervix, pushed on Malachi's head ("kill me now" was the very thought I had when she did that) , appeared two inches from my face and said every so convincingly. "You are getting an epidural because I have to deliver Malachi with foreceps or perform an emergency c-section".

I dumbly nodded and agreed to the needle in my spine.

Ladies, gentlemen, mommies and daddies-to-be, if you are in my position and are ever offered STADOL, "just say no!". Seriously. They gave it to me via IV to hold me over until the anesteologist arrived. I went from being coherent and in pain to drunk and in pain.

I don't remember hearing my baby boy cry when he entered this world- although, I'm told he shouted for all the angels to hear. I barely remember the doctor putting him on my stomach and I barely remember mumbling something along the lines of, "Hi, baby bee!"

I digress. The epidural was heaven. Enter Rase. My hero. His sweet encouragement while I was hunched over and acknowledgement of "such a tiny needle" would have helped, had I not been too drugged to notice the drug going into my spine. From then, I just wanted a quick nap. Just a few hours to gain strength and try again later.

No such luck.

Malachi came out in a half a dozen pushes, with the help of two giant salad prongs angled just so inside my birth canal.

My son, my first born, my baby bee. He had arrived. He was a beautiful, healthy 9lb 2.5oz bundle of joy. Totally worth the next episodes of hemoraging, fainting spells, blood tranfusions (only one actually).

Today, I wouldn't trade anything in the world for the memories and adventure that I had in giving my son a life to live. He is my everything.

I love you, Malachi! Your Daddy-do and Mommy-do wish you a HAPPR FIRST BIRTHDAY!

We'll call this blog "Closure"

The time has come for a new chapter in this girl's life. Rase and I came to Cheyenne with barely a leg to stand on and, three years later, we're leaving with six.

Cheyenne has been the place I've like the least- I will attribute it to my crappy job, the wind, the snow, the strange people that seem to come out of the wood-works and the overall unfortunate happenings that have involved my family.

Ironically enough, the friends I have gained have been my favorite. I have had so many amazing friendships here that leaving makes me feel as if I'm leaving a part of me behind.

I love you- in that blogger, sista, friend-to-confide-in, shopping student, girl-becoming-her-own and all around goddess way. You have inspired me to be myself and to try my hardest at everything. This blog rocks and it's because of your ability to share. When I grow up, I want to be like you. :)

*The Beverley Bunch*
Thank you for letting me be a Klingon for these last couple weeks. Like I've said, there is no way I will ever be able to put into words the gratitude I feel for you. From the very first time I met you (literally!) you have helped me (us) in any way you can. You will always hold such a special place in my heart. And I do expect a visit. :)

*Miss Ashley*
Where have you been my entire life?! I wish we had met sooner, I absolutely adore your face. You must come visit me in Idaho, pu-lease?! :)

My park buddy! My brunette buddy! My adventure buddy! I'm so glad I convinced you to poke a hole through your nose and insert a pretty metal nose ring. :) Don't cry when I leave! It will only make me cry and feel absolutely horrible for needing to be gone from this place. Of course, you will let me know when you're going to take that road trip and we'll pick up with our adventure where we left off. :)

Please, please remember the things I told you. You are forgiven. But, if you want to see things change, you have to be willing to make changes of your own. Pursue Christ- let Him deliver you from the enemy and work out your troubles. He can do it better than you can, anyway. LYLAS.

*Sierra Trading Post*

You caused quite a lot of stress in my life and I am in no way sorry to leave you.

I can't wait to get away and, at the same time, I don't ever want to leave. So, I'll just suffice it with this song. Don't get me wrong, this girl is not a Miley Cyrus fan. But, for some reason, this song has completely and totally inspired me and has made me think of Cheyenne in a very fond way. After all, we don't grow without a little tribulation, right?

♫I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I'm not breaking
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on

'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be a uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb, yeah!♫

Psssst! Don't you dare think this will be my last blog! ;-)


Wednesday, June 10, 2009

♫ Take Me As I Am

♫Slow to trust but I'm quick to love
Push too hard and I give too much
I ain't sayin' I'm perfect
but I promise I'm worth it♫

I don’t think lyrics have ever been so fitting. The rest of the song goes on to say:

♫If you want it
Come and get it
You'll understand
You take me as I am♫

I am a package deal. And I will never change for anybody, ever again.

And that’s not even the best part of the song. Well, maybe it is for me, but the part that I really want to touch on is:

♫We all live with the scars we choose
They might hurt like hell
but they all make us stronger♫

I think, this can be taken two ways.

The first, is our physical scars. We learn at a young age, that owwwies are fixable. Whether they are big enough to need surgery, or small enough to require a certain kiss, they’re mend-able, most of the time. But, regardless of size, we’re never exactly the same, ever again. We have something to remind us what we went through to get it. The mistakes we made, or the day it happened, or the people that were in your life, or the ones that aren’t anymore.

Some hide scars, thinking they are unattractive. I think though, that they’re boast-worthy. You lived through that?! Or there is at least a chance for a good story from them. You are a walking billboard of what you’ve been through, and I think that our scars define our strength, and our past, and regardless of where they are placed, how big or small, they are something to learn from, and be proud of.

The second, is emotional scars.

We all have a past, or we wouldn’t be where we are today. We’ve learned to get up and brush off those that broke our hearts, broke our bones, crushed our emotions, or on the other side of things, been our strength and our guides. Either way, we learn. We learn to love, we learn to let go, and we learn to move on. We learn that individuality and independence is key to survival. We’ve realized that no matter how hard we try, it’s not a fun go at it alone. It’s important to surround yourself by people that are true, and real, and deep, and honest. Even more so, that you try to be the same.

The problems arise, I think, when we don’t let scars heal. Physically speaking, if you don’t let a wound heal correctly, it will fester, infect, and irritate your body to the point of killing you. You have to nurture it, take care of it, and let it heal. Emotionally, if you do not move on from a troubled past, it will haunt you, infect your future. It will creep up on you when you’re not looking. And you’ll take your past out on those closest to you, because it has a grand way of bringing up all those old emotions.

This could turn in to a lengthy lecture, and an impossible task of convincing people to move on, when really, it’s important that you do so at your own pace. The point really, is that we all have scars. Both kinds. And you’ve got to learn to love both, and really, be proud. Both physically what you’ve been through to make you a stronger person, and emotionally, where you’ve came from to make you a better person. You’re a package deal too. One that's completely lovable, just the way you are.

Yours Truly,

Over The Shoulder Bolder Holder

*An upper decker flopper stopper.
*Boobie Baskets

No matter what you wanna call 'em (surprisingly,I wasn't able to locate more than four nicknames??) it is vitally important that you know how to wear one. Apparently, 80% of all women are wearing the wrong size. I wonder, how is that possible? After wearing an undergarment for 12-15 hours a day, you'd think one would notice if something doesn't fit quite right. Then again, when a trusted Victoria's Secret attendant tells you you're one size and you're actually another- I can see where things would get confusing.

SO, I did a little research and found out the following when it comes to bra size and fit.

First things first, here are some signs to look for if you're not wearing the correct size brassier:

1. You have "four boobs", where two little bumps spill out over the top of your bra, making it look like there are two sets of twins under your shirt.

2. There are red marks on your shoulder and/or back after you take your bra off.

3. Your bra slips around your rib cage or rides up/down- this is especially noticeable when wearing a strapless!

4. If your bra is too tight, it will make you look like you have "fake back fat"- definitely not nice.

5. When your boobies are holding hands (the uniboob look), the basket is woven just a little too tight.

When in the dressing room trying on that new (expensive?! Can I get an 'Amen!') lacy bra, here is how to make sure it will be fitting you just like a... er... bra.

-Adjust the straps to the maximum length.
-Lean forward into the cups and rest your breasts into the supports.
-Reach behind to hook the bra on the middle hooks of the closure.
-Put the straps on your shoulders.
-Position your breast in the cup by slipping a hand into the cup and lifting the breast while lining the underwire on your ribcage along the natural crease of your breast to prevent pinching of the breast tissue.
-Tighten the straps so that they support the breasts lightly without cutting into the skin or putting too much strain on the shoulders.
-Adjust the straps every time you put on a bra.

Yay! See how easy that is?! It does seem like rocket science in theory, but when you actually put it into practice, not only is it common sense, it actually works!

Finally, here are some boobie-licious signs of a good fitting bra:

1. The strap between your breasts should lay flat against your skin- no gaping or room for fingers, ladies!

2. The strap "behind" the cups should lay precisely between your elbow and shoulder.

3. Your shoulder straps should fit snugly, but you should be able to slip one finger easily between your skin and the strap. They should not slip off of your shoulders.

4. Your breasts should not spill out the top or sides.

5. Underwires, should be flat between your breasts and should not be sitting on your breast tissue at all. If the wires do no lay flat, go up one cup size.

To determine your size (for those of us not quite comfortable with a stranger doing the measuring):


Measure under your arms, high on your back, across the top of your chest. If this measurement is an even number, this is your band size. If an odd number, add 1" to determine your band size.


Measure loosely around the fullest part of your bust. Next, subtract your band measurement from your bust measurement; each inch represents a cup size. For example: if your band measurement is 34" and your bust measurement is 36", the difference between these measurements is two inches, and you'd wear a B-cup.

Pssst! No measuring system is fool-proof. If you're not sure you got the right measurements, jot down your findings, take 'em with you and try on a few different sizes at the store. Finding a good bra takes some work! Also, keep in mind the above signs for good and bad fit and remember that a woman's size will change about six times in her life! Don't get too down if you can't keep the same size from the time your twins show up to the time they show down.

For other useful hints about boobies and their holders, visit these sites:



As I have learned from experience, recently, you get what you pay for! If you shop at Ross for a $3 bra, you will get about one wear out of it. Or else it will drive you so crazy that you will want to rip it off in the middle of the store (which I do not recommend). However, if you save your monies and spend about $40+ on a bra you will be very happy with the results and your body image will thank you. :)

Monday, June 8, 2009

♫ Jalapeño Weekend

Ok, so we’ve been over how much I hate when two pieces of food have a party on my plate, or in my mouth, and touch each other prior to consumption. I know it all goes to the same place, but I like to taste it all separately. I have my theories on this oddity, but we wont go in to that, for fear of offensive material.

I tried two things this weekend:

Jalapeño’s stuffed with peanut butter. As far as I know, this is an original recipe by one of the coolest uncles ever. Not my uncle. Just an uncle. And a great uncle. And a grandpa of one of the cutest little girls in history. And a speed racer. All in one. This package deal, is properly named "Rocket", and can be seen below.

Ah hem. The point is, he makes these amazing little treats called "Peanut Butter Jalapeño’s". Yes. I bet you never would have guessed?! Anyway. Party in my mouth, but one that I actually enjoyed. I do apologize, I do not have a picture. It’s pretty basic though. You buy these Jalapeño’s, and you cut them in half, and you spread peanut butter everywhere, and you put them on a plate, and you devour.

Bacon Wrapped Jalapeño Poppers. Not only were they made by one super cool chick, they were actually enjoyable even with all those little ingredients on one toothpick. Similar to above, these tasty little treats are jalepeno’s cut in half, stuffed with cream cheese, wrapped in bacon, and grilled. Holy goodness. The picture, thanks to the lovely orange plate, gives them no justice. But they also, are a must-try. Even for you other OCD eaters. Surely my sister and I are not alone in this strange fetish.

One thing I will never try again:

Fish flavored crackers stuffed with gummy.

This girl, regardless of her quirks, will try anything once. Especially if dared. So when my boss so nicely said "hey, this is really gross, you should try it", I did. Duh. These oriental (which we are calling burnt fish flavored) crackers, sandwiched with a red gummy bear did not have a good party in my mouth. In fact, they through the kind of party that people start watching the grass grow, pianos tune, and fish swim. The kind of party, where only illegal treats have the ability to come in and rescue it. Which is why, the party ended before it was actually over. No, I don’t have a picture of that either. Sorry. I thought about taking one of my trashcan, and then I remembered that I probably love most of my readers.

Happy Monday!

Yours Truly,

Friday, June 5, 2009

I ♥ England

England, age 17-19

This country, my home away from home, makes my heart happy in so many ways! It's green nearly all year long (tulips do bloom in February!), it's surrounded by ocean, and it's where I spent the best part of my spiritual growth. For almost two years, I lived, worked and attended Bible school- then, called School of Life and Ministry.

One my first day in the Land of Drizzle, I walked for miles taking in every ounce of the culture that my soul could bear. I love it's quaint little hominess- the way that there are still villages standing from some three hundred years ago. The homes displaying that lovely style of white paint and dark slats of wood on the outside. *Sigh* Shop keepers still wave to passers-by and little children are still safe to play in the lonely streets.

Perhaps the reason my reminiscence is so dreamy is because I lived with the most caring, loving family God could have placed me with. They were truly set on showing me the proper and still-pure side of England. I fell in love with Veronique the moment I played dolls with her and counted the days until Natalya's introduction to the world.

If you're ever in Folkestone, England and need a warm, caffeine boost- skip Starbucks and head straight for The Chambers. A coffee house upstairs and a pub/restaurant downstairs- this was my place of employment and has to be in my top two places that I've worked. I adored the location- set on the street corner so that I could watch the people for one short moment in their life as they passed by the large, store-front windows.

Some would argue that England is just a little too rainy for their tastes. They do have their fair share of sunshine. It's all the same to me, really. Rain is so cleansing and relaxing. Even when it pours, I love it. When you're surrounded by green, instead of white or brown, it's easy to go without clear blue skys for a little while longer.

As amazing as this all sounds, it pales when compared to the work that was worked in my heart when I gave myself over to the will of the Lord and went to SLM (Life Bible College). I went from nothing to everything I could possibly ask for (and more) through Christ's all consuming fire. I do not mean material things or even superficial desires... I mean LIFE. He truly picked me up from the ashes I wallowed in, cleansed me with His all-healing blood, set my feet upon His Rock and made all things possible for me!

If I were given the chance to go back to Folkestone and live- even help with the church- I would be on the next plane to plunge in all the way. Are you reading this, Lord? *wink wink*

God bless the Queen.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

I ♥ Africa

This girl was born to travel. If there were one place that I could choose to spend more time in, it would be in an airport. There's just something about it. Maybe, that it's filled with new and interesting people to meet, high priced souvenirs to gawk at and plenty of adventure to be had!

I haven't gone to many places, but the places I have been to will forever hold a special, envious place in my heart.

Over the next few blogs, I shall tell the story of each place I have been. I hope you enjoy and are inspired to get off of your country's soil and seek out the world. It is an amazing place.

Africa, age 15:

I went with my dad to Ghana, Africa during my freshman year of high school. In my opinion, if any parent wants to impart the importance of thankfulness and contentment to their teenager, I think they should ship 'em to Africa for ten days or more.

The initial impressions I had, of this country so close to the equator, were the smells. After fighting my way through the airport personnel and stray Africans trying to make money by carrying my luggage, I was hit by the heavy air. I'd never in my life smelled anything like it- a mixture of what I can closely describe as pot and body odor. Africa is hot and the air is saturated with human sweat.

Unfortunately, or not, mine and my dad's luggage were left in Germany, our pit-stop to Ghana. But, the insurance he had (it had been his twenty-something trip and knew the chances of lost luggage) provided us $500 for each piece of luggage that did not arrive within 24 hours. We had four pieces each; also, the airlines gave us $100 each for the "inconvenience". Then, $1,200 was worth about 1.3 million Cedes, in exchange. We had to carry around our money in backpacks- the only condition for the insurance was that we had to spend the money before we left. Psh.

Obviously, Africa is a poor country. But, the reality of how poor it is doesn't sink in until you can see the depression for yourselves. Americans, or more specifically- Caucasians, are free game for any African. Don't take this the wrong way, Ghana is probably the safest country a 15 year old white girl could visit. Crime involving another human, is low; their crimes are more like stealing and cheating- ways to survive. What I mean by "free game" is that Africans see white skin and think money/prosperity. So, they will do anything to obtain that money. Be it marriage, service or begging. {Begging on the streets of LA is nothing, nothing compared to the begging in Africa}.

The women in our group were proposed to dozens of times a day. Men, hoping to marry a white American and go to "the Land of Milk and Honey" would demand marriage. And, the bigger the woman, the better. When you live off of $1 a month, you don't have a lot of food to eat and are, thus, hungry and skinny. Imagine what a larger American says to a skinny African.

Anyway, I digress. With the money we had, we were able to bless everyone (almost) that came into our path. My shoes were also left in Germany; so we went to buy shoes. In the store were two women, one pregnant and both with small children. We were able to buy the mothers, children and children-to-be multiple pairs of shoes. I doubt that they had ever been given any gift so costly and so unattached to any conditions. Well, that's not entirely true. We did offer the opportunity for salvation- another precious gift.

In another store, PEP, we found that a boy had been caught shop lifting clothes. He had been taken in the back of the store and was being beaten by the personnel. My dad, being my personal hero, went back to investigate. He stopped the beating, spoke to the little boy (via a translator) and had him apologize. Then, before we left, he purchased the little boy and entire new wardrobe: pants, shirts, shoes, socks, underwear and made him promise not to steal anything else. I think the words my dad used were, "From now on, you are not to steal. Instead, you must ask Jesus to give you what you need and He will give it to you."

At every stop light, we handed out bills to women and their children with large bottles of water.

For me, though, the most interesting and touching part of the entire trip was when we were able to visit Akosombo, a village right out of the pages of a National Geographic magazine. The women, expecting our visit and crusade, made sure to cover their bare breasts. Ohhhh, the children of that village! They were so small and beautiful. Whilst the other team members were bathing in antibacterial lotion, all I could do was sit on the ground and let their little hands touch my skin. They had never seen a white adolescent before and wanted to know if the white would rub off. One little girl let me hold her. I will never, as long as I live, forget her deep brown eyes and her soft skin and she hesitantly let me scoop her into my arms.

There are so many more memories that I have of Africa. But, why spill the beans when I could let you experience your own? Twice a year, my dad goes to Africa in an effort to minister to those who need salvation and provide medicine/water/food to those who can't afford it. If you want to help out, or go to Africa yourself. Email me at for information and I will be happy to send you some!

Truly, one can become so comfortable with life that it is easy to forget the needs of others. Africa taught me one lesson above all others, I. Am. Blessed. Some day, when Malachi is old enough to stay with his grandparents, I want.need.desire.beg. to return and help, once more, the nation that captured my heart.


Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Family Ties

John, Sam and I are all three years apart. Our childhood together was interesting. Being pastor's kids and under constant teaching from the Bible, we fought more than a couple a canibals over the last love handles of a fat kid. I'm not kidding.

John once hit me in the face with a doll house, causing one of my baby teeth to die and turn grey.

I got back at him a decade later by almost running him over with my VW Jetta.

When Sam was just a little bun in the oven, I remember getting into trouble for something and being sent to my room "to pray about it". Rather, I prayed (knowing that Sam was a boy) for a little sister. I begged for a little sister. I guess my penance was the unchanged gender of my little brother.

So, I got him back. Sam surely got the worst of it. John and I were ruthless. We once gave him a wedgie so extreem that his underwear ripped in half (we each got a side, lifted him up and shook him until he fell to the floor, comando-style); got him to eat yellow snow by explaining that we had made ice-cones in the front yard; convinced him he was adopted; I dressed both of them up in old lingerie, complete with a makeover and red toenails (yes, I got the lecture from Dad that boys do not wear dresses and makeup).

All in all, I'd say we were fairly normal kids. And our parents were concerned. Psh.

Today, we are far from the harmonious family that my parents worked so hard to raise. However, we do stand up for eachother when it comes down to the wire. I may talk crap about Sam and give John a hard time every time I see him. But, I do love 'em and am grateful for them.

I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at. ~Maya Angelou

♫ Happy Birthday, My Sweet Girl

My sweet girl turned four this morning. Technically, she doesn’t turn four until around 6pm tonight.

Miss Kyanne:

She wasn’t planned. This little diva of mine, was a birth control baby. Determined to join us, and change my life, she’s left me wondering what I ever did without her. Bouncing blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a crooked smile that will send you to heaven in a moment, she is the light in my day. I couldn’t ask for a better toddler. With the exception of her quirky texture issues (she refuses to sit on the grass, eat certain foods due to texture, and wear certain fabrics), she is the easiest child ever born. She is my strength when I feel like I cant go on. She is innocent, brave, and already, my hero. This little girl, is a rockstar. Not only does she love every bit of music she can get, but she can sing in tune, dance to a beat, and never ever misses the chance to say "turn it up a big one, mamma!". Never stop dancing, angel, never. Lover of shoes, hater of actually wearing them, and fashionista already, this girl, is all girl. But one of the toughest you’ll ever meet. Is there a better combination?? Her laughter is forever contagious, and her heart is nothing but sweet. Something about the way she looks when she sleeps, is home, no matter where we are.

My sweet girl, my world begins and ends with you. I cant believe it has been four years. My baby, I cant wait to see you grow, pray over you while you dream, and love you while you change. Youre my rock. I am so proud of you.

It’s on days like this that I am reminded that I am exactly where I need to be, right now. I am blessed to have such amazing people around me, that are willing to adopt me, my girls, and my family, regardless of history or fault. On this day, I am reminded that:

I have the coolest sister ever.

Kyanne woke up this morning and said "I caught FOUR today", and then "I want to wear my pink dress and yellow shoes", that apparently, my sister is hunting down today, just because that’s exactly what my baby wants. That, and she remembered to call us first thing this morning to wish miss Kyanne a happy birthday. Kyanne, in return, sang to her entire office on speaker phone, one of her favorite songs. Miss Danielle leaps at the opportunity to spend time with my girls, and rarely considers it a task. PLUS, the girls have her hair. Thanks for passing that along my dear.

The girs are blessed with an awesome gramma and grampa

Regardless of my current lifestyle, my mom and dad continue to step in and be the best grandparents they can be. Braving two toddlers at one time regularly, getting their pretty little hairs cut, and spoiling them with truck rides, horse and dirty barn adventures, and candy, God put them on earth to be grandparents, there is no doubt.

Miss Theresa

Somehow, the strength in this lady, is contagious. Not only did she step in and take my girls as her own, she is passing along amazing manners, one on one interaction, park adventures, and anything their little hearts desire. She treats them like they are her own, greets us with a smile every morning, misses them when theyre gone, and still has this southern drawl that me and the girls cannot get enough of. She’s one of the prettiest people I know, both inside and out, and her beauty runs deep. We are so blessed to have her in our lives.

My bestest best friend ever, and family in tow

Not only does my best friend love me regardless, she loves my girls with everything in her. Not only that, but her mom, and entire family, have taken them on as their own little girls. "Gramma Jo", and her brothers, mean the world to my girls. We’ve always had duplicate Christmas’, birthdays, and holidays. They are my second family, and have proven, that it’s not the blood that makes you family, but the love that flows between you.

Mah Boy

The absolute best jungle gym around, "Brand-it" lets them climb all over them, cuddle him until their eyes are heavy, and throws them higher in the air than anybody. Oh their laughs when he’s around, I cant get enough. Being the best hugger ever, he swooped Kyanne up in his arms this morning and wished her happy birthday. Plus, his dog, being the cutest puppy ever, got them out of bed for me this morning. I am lucky to have found such an amazing guy.

Miss Cindy

"Brandit’s" mom. Her and I are new friends, and it seems, that we have an awful lot in common. She has stepped in and adopted every piece of me, and everything I love in my life, and taken them on as her own. She holds the strength of an army, being the glue that holds everything together, she stands tall, even when the weight on her shoulders is impossible to bear. Her family is the most warm, loving, and accepting place, that I’ve ever visited.

My Co-Workers

I am reminded every day that I love my job. I wouldn’t trade my job for anything right now. It’s not only what I do though, it’s the people I work with. My cube partners, my copy girls, my IT dudes, my co-blogger, and my Chad...are lifesavers, shoulders to cry on, supporters, and encouragers. They are an army behind me, regardless of my life outside of work. I couldn’t make it through the day, without every single one of them. Plus, when I bring my girls around, they spoil them rotten.

The list could go on and on and on...but this blog is getting lengthy. It’s amazing how life has a way of showing you exactly where you need to be. I am surrounded by people that love and accept me for me, and proving, that the decisions I’ve made are taking me in all the right directions. Im surrounded by love. So much, that it’s overwhelming. Thank you for making my little girls day something special.

Yours Truly,

Tuesday, June 2, 2009


It's been a tough week for me- emotionally, mentally, moodily. I've wanted to crawl into a hole and wait until the world blows to pieces (all of my most loved people and friends with me, of course). I can even think of a few sayings and hand gestures for those who I feel have made my week so bad.

Thank God for hairstylists.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who feels all of life's grunge wash down the drain whilst the the stylist cleanses my hair with über-nice smelling shampoo and conditioner so soft you'd swear a caterpillar were in the bottle making the stuff from its silk.

I've always thought of a hairstylist like a bar tender. They are great listeners. You sit in their comfy chair, read their gossip magazines and let your insides spill. And they just nod and snip. Nod and snip. And, if you have an angel for a hairstylist, you know your insides won't be spread around the town.

Then comes the cut. If there were ever a better way to let a little change slip into life, without wreaking havoc, it's with a haircut. Just think: your hair goes every where you go (uh-duh) and can even seem as baggage. You know, that day when you got fired and then your dog almost bit your kid? Your hair was there... and cutting a little bit of it off is like cutting a little bit of those bad experiences off. With new possibilities growing in.

Ahhhhhh, if I had enough money, I would never do my own hair. I would just visit my stylist every few days and let her work her therapy.

So, this is just a shout-out to Sierra at Chella Bellas. You. Are. Amazing. Thank you for helping me cut off this week, this weather and this sour mood. I love my hairs! And as Miss Ashley would put it, "I think I have a crush on my hair". Nomz loves her, too, and you'll know why when you see her golden tresses sparkle in the sun.

Sierra, even though I'm moving (sniff) I will tell everyone I can (in a reasonable vicinity) to let you work your magic on them.
SRSLY, people. She's the beeeeeest.

♫ Am I a "Wine-O"? Not Yet!

It’s dawned on my recently, I love wine.

Ok, she sheepishly admits, I’ve liked it for a really long time. But, I’ve always heard "Wine-O" in a bad way. Like, enjoying wine, makes me more of a girl. Well, enough people have told me lately that I need to be more of a girl anyway, watch me go.

Wine coolers do not count. Sorry. I’d rather drink beer, thanks.

Wine though, is absolutely satisfying. I have five favorites.

#1. Boones Farm. Truly. There is something about being able to buy an entire bottle of wine for five big bucks. And it tastes like punch with a punch. And there is absolutely nothing better in the world, than drinking it with my best friend while we giggle ourselves apart. Yes, even us tough girls do that every now and then. Plus, this tasty little concoction was introduced to me in college, and im a little bit attached.

#2. Electra. There are several shades, apparently, and the two I’ve had are pretty awesome. Mah boy introduced it to me on Valentine’s Day, and I’ve developed a bit of an addiction to it. It might hold some sentimental value, but Im pretty sure the stuff just rocks.

#3. Pink Truck. I have no idea where my bestest best friends boyfriend got this stuff. He got it for the bottle, and the stuff was a grand half way mark of red and white. I drank almost the whole bottle, including the glass shards, by myself.

#4. The orange stuff. I really cannot remember how this came up, or what the stuff is called, but the women im beginning to love more and more all the time introduced this fabulous wine to me and my sister in the biggest wine glasses I’ve ever seen. Actually, I didn’t realize they were big until I saw how much of the bottle fit in them. Anyway, we asked her what kind it was, and all I remember, is my sister telling us four times that it was the orange stuff.

#5. The kind I haven’t discovered yet. That’s right. I plan on, in the near future, buying myself a pretty little wine rack for my perfect little corner in my kitchen, and becoming quite the connoisseur. I want to be the swirling, sniffing, lip tapping, wine tasting snob that you see in all those fancy restaurants. I want to cook with wine. I want to dine with wine. I want to be a girl about wine. Wonder if it comes with that cool accent that you see in all the movies? Do they bottle English accents?? Hmmm.

Please do list your favorites to get me started. I know plenty of you drink it regularly, I’ve seen your super cool wine racks and collections. Help this girl in the making, out.

Yours Truly,

PS. If anybody can find me that cork screw, the "orange stuff", or another bottle of Pink Truck, I will heart you forever.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Let it be

I feel, ironically, the need for some serious alone time. Maybe, a secluded forest or a deserted island. Some place where Thoughts come easily, unhindered and in the company of Resolution. I'm in a slump- this is what change does to me. Like I've said, I can handle the slight changes that do not rearrange the cosmos- hair color, wardrobe, living room arrangements. But, this whole moving thing has really brought an overcast to my brand new summer. Ugh.

I can't help but think, during these precarious days, about what could have been.
What if I had married the other one? (To those of you reading this, I am not referring to what you think...)
What if I had given birth to a different, easier baby? One that doesn't need to be held constantly or would wean easily.
What if I had stuck with my choice in college, rather than taking the easy way out?
I'm plagued with these thoughts. With barely a soul to confide in- for fear of making their own burden of Life a little heavier. This blog is just a way for me to get those thoughts out. It seems that the more I harbor them and dwell on what didn't happen, the more restless and discontented I feel. Musing over and over, this last week, I've come to realize that there is no point- absolutely none- in wishing or dreaming of what could have been. What is now is what I have been given.
What good would it do to study every blade on the other side of the fence? Would I want any other life? Who knows what I would have been unsatisfied by, then? With those other choices? Might I have been the same person I am now? Would I be happy? Or as happy as I am now?
The Lord knows best and I must trust His providence. Let it be.
When I find myself in times of trouble, Jesus comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness He is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

I've listened to this over and over. It's so calming and helpful.

♫ Haz Monday Blues

Monday Blues? This kid’s got’m. And apparently, they’re contagious. That, or my sister has found her own reason to be bluezy. Hmmmm. Either way, because of the melancholy, I have little energy to blog.

So, I will tell you, that I keep a journal with me, literally, everywhere I go. And I don’t write in it every day, it’s not a diary, you wont find any outrageous secrets in that one, but you will find quotes. And lots of’m. I keep a running list of them. I figured I’d share some of my recent ones with you. And I want you to let me know your favorites, both from my list, and those I should add. Enjoy!

"Jealousy isn’t always bad..helps you realize feelings about things that you might not have noticed otherwise-Teh Reese

"It’s always good when you can fight with a boy and still like him afterward." -A!

"Something tells me that the first mousetrap wasn't designed to catch mice at all, but to protect little cheese 'gems' from burglars."

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." Thomas Edison

"Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities; remember, things could be worse. You could be one of them!"

"I am determined to bloom where I am planted no matter how rocky the ground."

"The moment we cease to change is the moment we stop living."

"There's always something waiting at the end of the road, if you're not willing to see what it is, you probably shouldn't be out there..."

"It might be hard and it will hurt, but sometimes you have to let go and put things behind you in order to get what you need out of life."

"When he kisses you he isn't doing anything else. You're his whole universe..and the moment is eternal because he doesn't have any plans and isn't going anywhere. Just kissing you...."

"I’m selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle. But if you cant handle me at my worst, than you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best." -Marilyn Monroe

"It’s true that we don’t know what we’ve got until we lose it, but it’s also true that we don’t know what we’ve been missing until it arrives."

"He’s so old, his toupee is going bald."

"The really happy woman is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour."

"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up."

Yours Truly,

Search the Daily Offensive!