I Made My Baby Cry.

I often elude to Joni Mitchell's song River in my posts and thought maybe I should share it with you. Because it's beautiful. And once again, Philly is full of snow. This calls for River being played on repeat for some reason.

I might love it if there was a river outside my apartment that froze over every time it snowed. We could all skate around on it and then come in for hot chocolate afterwards. Instead there's a catering company, an old swimming pool filled with dirt and dead bodies (at least it looks like it) and an old school banquet hall surrounding my gorgeous complex. Reality bites sometimes.

There's one part where Joni sings, "but it don't snow here, it stays pretty green," which makes me want to be where she's singing about: California. I've never been.

Philly's grey and slushy, and now being covered over with white. Which is pretty, but it's also getting pretty damn old if you ask me.

Spring and summer, please hurry up and arrive soon. I miss you dearly.

Download California and Both Sides Now if you like River.

Sometimes You Just Need A Happy Ending Massage.

Things I learned this week while I was anti-blogging:

1. If you've been going to bed at 3 AM since the day you were laid off on November 13th of 2009, try as you might, you will never fall asleep before 3 AM again. Accept it.

2. Start baking. Get all Julie & Julia on your ass. Make cakes and cupcakes with a funny friend who doesn't judge you for eating most of the batter. Whatever you do though, don't start knitting. Only menopausal women do that. Draw the line at dying your cupcake icing pastel colors and taking pictures of the fruits of your labor.

3. Hold on to those real friendships that last, despite lapses of communication. The true testament of a friend is one who wants to help, listen and who doesn't mind becoming your cheering squad when things are looking blue.

4. Reading a book that brings you into its world is basically crucial when you don't feel alive yourself. Good writing has the power to bring color back to your cheeks after your eyes meet a sentence that takes your breath away. Need an example? If you're a chick, read Erica Jong. If you're a guy, read her too. She writes vividly about sex. You'll dig it.

5. Talk to people even when the only words you feel like using are expletives. Isolation is a dark and scary place. Also, it may cause you to stop brushing your hair for days on end. That's never good if you don't have enough money to get your hair cut. Split ends = death.

6. Shut the TV off. No seriously, do it. Put the iPod on and blast Joni Mitchell until you can almost feel yourself zooming away on the river she wants to skate away on.

7. Don't depend on anyone else to help you find a job. Do the foot work. If you've been blessed to stumble upon a brilliant writer friend who reaches out to help, take it. But don't think that the recruiter who calls you 5 times whispering sweet nothings on your voicemail about how perfect you sound on your resume will actually do a damn thing for you. She won't. You are your greatest asset.

8. When you find yourself talking to Main Line Jews like they're your best friends, trying to push them to buy a Banana Republic credit card and pants they don't need just so you can make your sales goal at your part time job, (because somehow making it has become the reason you wake up each morning), take a step back and think: what do you really need? The answer is simple. Push your sales to the max by purchasing a necklace, a vest, a long sleeve tissue tee and an orange citrus candle. Then look fabulous wearing it all. Bask in the fact that your apartment smells like a fruity wonderland.

9. After you've purchased items of clothing that you can't afford, remind yourself that being poor makes you resourceful. Top Ramen is actually really good, so is tuna out of a plastic bag. You might even lose some weight. Score.

10. Don't take yourself seriously. If you're in a rut, admit it and move on. Laugh about your mistakes, your blunders and your insanity. If you're really mature like I am, make yourself feel better by reading the horribly written blog that the meanest guy you know authors. Life could be worse. You could be wasting your days away in a cubicle, still anticipating black out weekends (the aftermath of which make you look 10 years older than you really are) and having no chance at happiness. At least you know how to spell.

PS - Incase you're wondering where the explanation for the title of this post is, as well as the photo, I'll never tell. (I will say that I have not, nor will I ever engage in one). However, if none of my above suggestions work for bringing you out of depression like they've done for me, then maybe you should.

I'm wearing my t-shirt tucked in today.

I have felt creatively blocked. That's a nice way of saying I haven't had the desire to write since Sunday. Probably because I found out my ex-boyfriend now has access to my blog and I created the blog because I wanted something he could not touch, that no one could touch really.

Anyway, no biggie. Stranger things have happened (like the fact that my father also reads it thanks to my dear sister). Thing is, I am a brat for trying to restrict a public blog to only certain readers. Who do I think I am!? A princess of course.

When I have nothing to say, I lean on Maddie for some good stuff.

Here she is waiting for me to get off the computer and play with her, sitting politely. When I think about it, she's actually the princess. Our apartment is really her world, I'm just living in it. I'm a fool to think otherwise.

A Poem

"It takes a spasm of love to write a poem."

- Erica Jong, How to Save Your Own Life

It's love's holiday, so it's only fitting...

This one's for the loved ones.

Those who gaze lovingly into their partner's eyes.

Those who's noses grazed rouge rose petals

given to them by the one.

My eyes went green today

thinking of you.

i'm uncertain

what i am, where i am, who i am

when it comes to love these days.

I resent the one who waits and waits

after seasons pass, yet I remain

with an unchanged mind.

I fear the one who's friendship promises

an easy connection

and flowing communication.

As of late, I've been foolish.

Listening to "i'm in" and believing it.

Been to places that don't accentuate my hues,

instead that splash noir on my canvas.

I find myself, on this cold holiday

remembering many times I shared

myself with another.

And now alone.

Free? Somewhat.

Yes, this one's for the loved ones.

Those who opened cupid's door

to passionate embraces,

to chocolates wrapped in heart-shaped boxes.

Those with the ability to look into another's eyes

And feel what only lovers feel.

I Could be Brown, I Could be Blue, I Could be Violet Sky.

This song is great for temper tantrum-like dancing, which may or may not include throwing your couch pillows around, making your dog stand on her back two feet and jump around with you, ripping off articles of your own clothing one by one, screaming the lyrics until your throat hurts and then doing it all over again until you just can't stand it anymore! (After you've eaten a bag of Hershey Kisses, two boxes of candy hearts and 3 heart lollipops).

Or, I mean, you could listen to it like, how normal people listen to it. Sit at your computer, tap your foot to the beat if you feel lucky, maybe bob your head or something. Smile if you start to enjoy the song. Hum the lyrics once you start to know them.

But acting like your on speed is SO much more fun! I'm off to shower and contemplate reasons why anyone in their right minds would actually like me.

PS - This one's for you my dear Little Red, Kate Funk. I heart you very much.

Untitled.

"And it stings when it's nobody's fault cause' there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name. It's only the air you took and the breath you left."

I am hesitant to write what I think I need to write about so I have been avoiding my precious blog. However, this blog is bullshit if it's not real so here goes nothin'...

I broke up with someone this summer. This was my most serious relationship yet, in the way that I had never co-habitated before. However, I now see why I had never co-habitated before. I am not the co-habitating type. At least not right now.

This person was extremely comfortable to me at first. We had known each other in college and had made similar life changes following. I ran into him in the least expected place and was instantly intrigued because he was the first person I knew who at my age, suffered from the same affliction that I was starting to come to terms with suffering from myself.

We hung out as friends for about two seconds, and next thing I knew, we were inseperable, then completely infatuated, then completely in love. We moved quickly because we thought this was it for us.

We were warned against what we were doing by those who knew better. But we ignored their warnings. In my heart, I kept wondering if they were right. I had a realization before I began dating him that I had been completely lost in life for many years, hanging on to all the shit that hurt just because that's all I had been used to. It would have been healthier to learn how to hang on to myself for a while and learn what made me tick. But this was destiny right? He was special.

Wrong. Four months after we began dating, we moved in together. A month after we moved in together, I began feeling like I could not breathe. Literally. Coming home from work I wanted to be left alone and he wanted to cuddle. I was expected to make dinner for both of us and I hadn't even learned to make dinner for myself yet. I was supposed to clean up after both of us, and I could barely clean up after myself. My job required long hours and full focus. His consisted of half days, no required start time and a 'come and go as you please as long as you make the company money' attitude. I got off the train at 6:30 and he had been home for three hours looking at porn on my computer and screwing around. I resented the man and he knew it. But he refused to talk about it.

We didn't end because of him. Every character defect I have within myself was brought to light. I made many mistakes and said many hurtful things. I could not live up to his expectations and I refused to give any more than I already was. He did not think anything was actually wrong so we both held our ground. We stood at this standstill for almost another year.

After we began clashing, I could not wait to find a way to disconnect him from every inch of me. I closed off emotionally and physically and this is when I realized I was going to have to be the one; the one to say the words we refused to admit to ourselves was true: this was becoming a disaster. This began the dialogue of admitting there may be something wrong here. It was infuriating however, because he didn't seem to see what I saw was happening to us. We had some seriously frightening arguments and he could somehow brush them under the rug and move on. I however, was damaged and scared at the way we began to treat each other. I did not feel I was equipped to live this way. In fact, I had promised myself that I would never live that way again. Here's when I began to realize that I had no idea how to be part of a pair. I yearned to be a single. I had never yearned to be single in my life and something told me that I was feeling this for a reason.

I moved out and got my own place eventually. This was a process in itself. When he saw me going on appointments to check out other apartments, he still refused to admit it was really happening. Until it did. Friends helped pack me up and I was out. And I loved my shitty new place. I painted it colors that I loved, I picked out my own furniture (he had convinced me to sell all of mine when we moved in together) and I began to breathe again. He then began to suffocate. His reaction to my moving out was a painful one. He just could not stand the fact that our relationship had changed. A few times he became insanely emotional and I felt terrible so I allowed us to get close again, at first to keep him stable. But each time, I felt more and more certain that this was not going to work. One time I tried to manipulate myself to fall in love with him again. Another time, I got lonely and invited him over, which he took as me initiating us dating again. No matter what I did, I could not hide from the truth that kept rearing its ugly head: we were two people who had completely trashed the gift we were given in each other. We bit off more than we could chew.

Since we've broken up, I have had to force myself to do some new things. I have begun to write again, I paint when I have enough money for canvas, I force myself to reach out to friends who I began to ignore while I was with him, I try to stay active. Oh and I have learned how to clean my own place, make my own food (sometimes) and get back into music. I even bought myself a guitar but I am completely horrible at it. As I've written about before, I lost my job too. Having 9 extra hours a day and being newly single has been cause for much anxiety and emotionalism but I am forcing myself to learn how to survive. As much as it hurts him to know this, I know in my heart that being without him has given me a piece of me back and I am happy to welcome it. I am learning how to be just me, without anyone else completing me. And it's starting to become enough. Seriously.

Recently he's been really acting up and it's really freaking me out. Out of respect for him, I will not relay exactly what he's been doing but let's just say he is completely rebelling against the idea of us being separate from one another. And I am forced to, once again, remind him that it's over. It's so hard to say that to someone that you love.

Granted, I know it's easier for me because I am the one who called the shots here. I am the one who broke it off and I am the one who moved out. I know what it's like to be one the other side as well and I know it takes a bit longer. But he's got to do it. He is a genuinely wonderful person. He deserves to be happy and doesn't need to be with someone who is not happy with him. He will make a great father and husband to someone who can give him what he expects. It's just not me.

I have even dated a bit since him and I have found it to be a very freeing/frightening experience. No new relationships or anything, but I have actually formed some feelings for other people. One to be exact. Except I'm kind of shocked because I'm so used to having someone dote on me that non-chalance seems like complete rejection. That's what's frightening about it. Learning how to navigate singledom again. See I still have a lot of learning to do myself.

All I know is that the phrase, "I loved you enough to let you go," isn't bullshit. You can't stay with someone just to hold them together. At the end of the day, all you have is yourself. No one else can look in the mirror for you. I love myself enough to let myself be alone and learn how to.

Be Here Now.

I like to share. Music mostly. This one's from one of my favorite singer/songwriters, Ray LaMontagne. He's got so many greats but this one is perfect to relax to, even meditate to, if you're into that type of stuff. The song envelopes you like a big comfy down comforter if you let it.

Don't let your mind get weary and confused
Your will be still, don't try
Don't let your heart get heavy child
Inside you there's a strength that lies

Don't let your soul get lonely child
It's only time, it will go by
Don't look for love in faces, places
It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

Don't lose your faith in me
And I will try not to lose faith in you
Don't put your trust in walls
'Cause walls will only crush you when they fall

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

I Wish I Had a River I Could Skate Away On.

We're just dropping in to say hi! It's snowing again. Do I live in Philadelphia or Vermont?! Jesus, this is really getting out of hand. I already feel trapped inside my wretched little apartment and it's just begun. We're supposed to get 18 inches altogether and tomorrow this little storm is apparently meeting up with another big bully storm to officially wreck shit. Sweet.

Maddie is a great indoor playmate but I'd like a non-furry friend to come converse with me. Someone who doesn't want me to throw them a ball for 3 hours a day. Someone who I don't attempt to groom like I did Maddie. She officially looks...weird. I took a bit too much off around her snout. I can't even do my own hair so I'm not sure why I think I can groom a poodle.

Feel free to come rescue me from myself.

By the way...The apartment next to me is rented by a 90 year old woman who is terribly senile. She wears the same dirty house coat every time I see her and it takes her a few minutes to recognize me when we begin chatting. She's endearing though. Especially when she's had a haircut. What small amount of hair she has left is parted perfectly on the right side with ringlet curls on each side of her tiny wrinkled face. (She's luckier than poor Maddie. The stylists at Super Cuts are more talented than I).

I heard her door open from my apartment so I jumped up to see if she was okay. See, I have this phobia of her being dead in her apartment for weeks and no one knowing it until her Meals on Wheels crew shows up to find her decrepit body. In response to my phobia, I can't help but pop my head out every time her door creeks. Tonight she asks me if I like ice-cream. I reply with yes of course. She asks what kind. I answer with every kind. Then I elaborate with telling her that lately I have been buying neopolitan. She says she can't have neopolitan because chocolate makes her dizzy. I ask her if she would like me to buy her some. She asks would you? I say ofcourse. She says what kind? I say do you like butter pecan? (All old people like butter pecan. Why is that?) She says yes. But she reconsiders and says she wants plain vanilla instead of they carry it. I say they most definitely do carry it. She says okay I'll give you money for it. I say no, my news years treat to you. (Yeah, I know, what does that even mean? It's February?) She says no no, I have to pay you somehow. I say no way I'll have it to you tomorrow after the snow stops. I close my door so she doesn't insist. A few minutes passes and there's a knock at my door. I am prepared to see my ex boyfriend who likes to show up unannounced for no reason at all. It's not, thank God. It's her! Little old lady in dirty house coat! She hands me three packets of sugar and a tiny bottle of milk. It's payment for the ice cream, she says. I close my door, laugh and hold the sugar and milk to my chest. What an adorable little thing. You know, she has told me before that her children haven't come to visit her in five years. She has four. Four children and not one of them has the heart to come see you? My parents have four of us. If my mother is an old (and probably miserable) widow and living alone in her old age, I swear to her now I will never allow her to die alone and have to pay strangers in sugar packets and milk to satisfy her sweet tooth. Same goes for you Daddy. And I hope if I have children, they do the same for me. Old people need love too. They're just like us but with wrinkled skin and lots more wisdom. That's all.

Fears

Someone said that sometimes receiving the gift you've been waiting for pales in comparison to the anticipation of getting it. Someone had a point.

I just hope that the "sometimes" they are referring to doesn't mean this time.

Sharing my weirdness with you. Again.

Another late night for this crazy gal. What else is new. I mean, in all honesty, I've been getting better with my sleep schedule but everything's a process...blah blah blah.

I just attempted to watch Twilight all the way through but couldn't for two reasons:

1. Robert Pattinson distracted me the entire time and I couldn't stop zoning in on him while he was on the screen and then getting anxious waiting for him to come back and

2. The suspense was killing me. I realize this second reason is insane. Who, at 26 years old, can't handle the suspense of a girly tween movie that their little sister has probably seen like 17 times?

The answer is, I don't know. I have alot of really weird idiosyncrasies. One of these is refusing to watch movies at night time that have even the slightest bit of suspense/loud yelling to them. If I'm laying in bed and tired, I pop in a movie that floats along like a cute little cloud. Like, Sense and Sensibility. The opening credits put me in a catatonic state and I think each character talks in a whisper. But watching Bella being hunted by the scary bad vampire who is now holding her mother hostage??? Nope, out of the question. Very bad bed time movie choice.

This was my mistake. I have been meaning to watch this flick for ages and my friend Kate left it at my house yesterday and I could have waited to watch it with her but I have little to no self control so I threw it in and jumped in bed. Actually, I disconnected the DVD player from my family room TV and hooked it up to my bedroom TV because that's how bad my body needs bed. (See earlier post, I was rip roaring down icy hills all day). But this movie is just going to have to wait.

I need to see Edward's beautiful lips in full daylight while I'm fully conscious, AND I think I need someone to be holding my hand while we figure out what exactly happens to dear monotone-voiced yet pretty Bella!

Weeee!

So I am currently thawing out after my adventurous afternoon. Three of us went sledding at the local golf course today. We were dodging children and trees the entire time but I figured if a bunch of 5 year olds were braving it, I was down. At first I found myself purposely wiping out early so that I wouldn't reach serious high speeds upon descent. However, the fear wore off quick after the two dudes I was with booed me! No they dit-int'! If I'm anything, I'm neurotically competitive. There was no way I was going to be the scared girl who couldn't hang with the big boys. Eventually I was flying off jumps and trying to make it across a creek mid-air. Unsuccessfully. (We gave up on the creek jump after a small child nearly broke his neck because we bet him $20 to clear it. Oops?) I secretly relished in the fact that my friend Andy told me I'm alot ballsier than I look. Damn right! Don't let the blonde braids fool you kids!

My spine is in loads of pain but I am a happy gal BECAUSE when I turned 26 I had a tiny quarter-life crisis due to the realization that I am now closer to 30 than I am 20. Aged. Old. Moving on to the next check box (26 - 32). I am not trying to offend those who are 30+ but I feel like bad decision making and immaturity becomes automatically illegal at that age. That's a wrong assumption, I know plenty of 30 +ers who behave like they're 17. This issue is mine and mine alone. Okay? Okay.

The crisis is now behind me due to the fact that I can still sled like a champ and make it home alive and kickin'! And that I've got some friends who are willing to act like kids again with me. I haven't laughed as hard as I did tonight in a long time, when I watched the video footage that Andy posted of us. We were all ridiculously giddy, completely unaffected by the serious wipe-outs we were all victims to.

Thanks Andy and Sean for being my wing men and trying to teach me to steer with my hands. And Andy, you definitely got the most air because you're such a big burly man!

Trying to fit my ass on a very small flying saucer.

Head first. I don't mess around.

Taking out small children on the way down. No big deal.

Momma's Pick

While I was driving around in the blizzard today, this song was playing on one of the old school pop channels. I remember my mom dancing around to this song while she was cleaning in her jean button-up shirt and leggings. This was the early 90s. Do you want to know what's funny about that? Our Spring Preview line at Banana included jean button downs and thick black leggings. Everything old is new again.

Anyway, this tune is fun! Annie Lennox rocks.

Yay!

Good news! Work was cancelled today due to the snow storm. Alleluia! I am about to go sledding like a little child with a group of friends. Then we're going to come back to my apartment and watch Twilight. I have yet to see this movie but have been meaning to for a very long time. Robert Pattinson could be my baby daddy if he wanted to. Sorry Dad, if you're reading this. I told you this blog was not for you!

late night ramblings.

It's way past my new bedtime but it's snowing. For some reason this constitutes a new post.

I just put up new drapes in my bedroom and I found myself staring at the small sliver of the outside world showing through the place where the drapes can't reach. All I see is grey branches with white blankets covering them. For a few minutes I fixate on this little glimpse before I have to get up, pull the drapes open and take it all in.

I hate winter and cold weather and wet boots and frost bitten fingers and everything that comes along with this season. But I could stare at snow filled scenery from my bedroom window for hours.

Why is it that we want people who do not want us back, or still love those who hurt us? Why do we put ourselves in positions that we know are not good for us, hoping that this time it will be different? Maybe because we know that we will mend ourselves like we have each and every time we were hurt before. Maybe we believe in ourselves more than we gives ourselves credit for. Why do I put myself on the line with my family knowing that I do not have the power to change them? Because I know that I love them enough to get hurt by them and then heal again. Sometimes the best things in life hurt. Sometimes the ones you love the most hurt you the most.

Life is a bitch sometimes. A vengeful, mean one. But damnit, I love the bitch. Because if life didn't hand me some really sad sad cards sometimes, then getting the good ones wouldn't feel so damn good. The amazing thing about life is that there's an indescribable, incomprehensible balance to it all. In my book at least.

I have to be up in 5 hours to trek to work. All I want to do is lay around all day in my sweats, drink hot chocolate and convince my friends to go sledding with me like we did when we were kids. Instead I will put on my best sales person smile, fold sweaters and put people in fitting rooms until 2:30.

Such is life.

That was just a dream some of us had.

But I wouldn't want to stay here.

It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here.

- Joni Mitchell, California

Tonight there was dinner for three. Father, sister and I. None of us spoke. We all ate hurriedly, as if it was our last meal. I think we were all nervous, anticipating that she would walk through the door and wreack havoc. She didn't. She had left hours before.

I enjoyed my mussels and linguini but something was missing and it wasn't the fact that there weren't enough mussels. Dad told a story of the time I won an award at my 8th grade graduation. An award for the student that best typified the ideals and goals of the entire school. This was right after she had tried to tell Dad that I was the most terrible child in the world and vowed not to show up at graduation. I blocked that memory but Dad opened it up again for me.

Little sister came down to join us later, after she peeled herself out of bed. A depressed 12 year old? This can't be right. Other sister gets ready to leave and hole up at the boyfriend's because that's her only coping mechanism. Brother is at college but I can see his invisible sadness when he talks about her. It's a damn shame this thing.

I found myself breaking into the serenity prayer after I ate. I am not an overly spiritual person but I have been convinced that there are certain problems in life that cannot be solved with human will alone. This situation is undoubtedly one of them. I started, "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and..." then I stopped. Which one of those virtues do I need here? Is this a situation I must accept? Or do I need courage to crusade against this dysfunction? This always has been the most puzzling question of my life besides the reason why I only wear one contact. I desperately need that "wisdom to know the difference".

Do I take every ounce of courage, faith and fortitude I have and try to make us all happy again? Why did I just say again? Have we ever been happy together? There have been moments of pure joy that we've all experienced, but they have always been followed up with pure hell. I mean, is it a coincidence that I haven't lived at home since the moment I left for college 8 years ago and still try to avoid going back? I am not sure.

In a perfect world, she would go get help. She would peel back the layers of pain like layers of an onion. They would make her cry. But the tears would mend the pain. They would give her peace. She would come back to us and say she was sorry. We would apologize too. From then on, we would work together to solve this thing. We are all athletes. We know what team work is. We could do it. I know it.

And there would be no silent dinners. And no depressed 12 year olds at the table. No sisters running away when things get tough. No silently sad brothers. No fathers who feel constantly powerless. And no me staying up at night wondering how I can solve it all.

It would be home.

Print These Out.

It was Jagged Little Pill that got me hooked . Alanis Morrisette has and always will be a woman after my own heart. I remember the first time I played that record from start to finish, I felt instantly at ease, like some other chick knew exactly how weird I felt about life. Ironic, You Learn, One Hand in My Pocket...I still listen to them on repeat. Bottom line, I love love love that hippy Canadian.

Her more recent albums I haven't obsessed over as much as Jagged, but there are a few singles I still dig. Thank You makes me instantly emo, along with Uninvited. If you aren't familiar with 21 Things I Want In a Lover, it's basically self-explanatory. She details her ideal significant other. From having a big intellectual capacity to being uninhibited in bed, the list has always made me think. I have been telling myself for a while to copy her and write my own and I'm feeling like tonight is going to be the night. Except I like to break the rules, so I'm doing 25. Well 26. One for good luck.

Disclaimer: #1 is the only deal breaker.

1. Be taller than me in stilettos.

2. Own an i-Pod full of music and enjoy belting out tunes whilst driving.

3. Believe in the power of family.

4. Look sharp in a suit.

5. Wear a watch and wear it well.

6. Be man enough to shop for yourself.

7. Stop for babies and puppies.

8. Believe in sharing...the remote.

9. Know that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

10. Chivalry isn't dead. Seriously.

11. Have an opinion. Have three or four educated ones.

12. If it's a glass half empty kind of day, please know how admit it.

13. Read just for fun.

14. Get weird with me.

15. Know what it's like to be broken and put back together again.

16. Have faith.

17. Good story tellers are fabulous.

18. Genuinely listen.

19. Use your manners. And correct grammar?

20. Paint with me even if you're not artistic.

21. Those blessed with athleticism automatically move to the front of the line.

22. Have kind eyes.

23. Have magical fix-it powers.

24. Be responsible enough to do your own laundry without complaining.

25. Kiss well and know exactly when to.

26. Must be strong enough to deal with the likes of me.

Proof.

Just incase you need proof that I dance alone. In front of the computer. And take pictures of myself. I have provided you with the aftermath of my boredom. And my vanity. And my new favorite song (see below!). The last one sort of scares me. Apparently I like to blindfold myself with my own hair. Stop judging me.

This Time Baby, I'll be Bulletproof.

Most of the time the radio greatly disappoints me. Yes I do occasionally enjoy listening to Lady Gaga and Ne-Yo on repeat for about 10 minutes before I feel like gouging my eyes out. But, for the most part I rock out to the i-Pod.

There are those magical afternoons however, I have been lucky enough to find myself tuned in to that one hour where every programmed channel I have, 1 through 6, is playing sweet, sweet music. Today was one of those days. Not only did I stumble upon some great classics, I found a song I had never heard before. A diamond in the rough. I blasted this baby at full volume in the Merc, scaring the shit out of my dog, then immediately returned home to download it. BECAUSE this song requires more room than my car provides. I am not ashamed to dance around the apartment in me undies, blasting meaningless pop music that makes me feel oh so warm and fuzzy inside.

Enjoy my friends.

True.

Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning

And I find myself careening
Into places where I should not let me go.

~ James Taylor, "Something in The Way She Moves"

Sometimes I Write Depressing Poetry. Just Because.

Then I was ugly

Buck teeth, chapped lips, glasses

I knew I was ugly

Did not belong

With the rest of you

Beautiful, rosy cheeked, normal ones.

Then I was scared

Darkness, horror, mother

I knew I was scared

Did not tell

The rest of you

Unafraid, bold, popular ones.

Then I was battered

Suffocating, scratching, hateful words

I knew I was battered

Did not show

The rest of you

Breathing, untouched, flourishing ones.

Then I was unlovable

Never saved, forgotten, brushed aside

I knew I was unlovable

Did not reach for

The rest of you

Loved, cherished, needed ones.

Now is not then

No more

Ugliness

Fear

Bruises

Lack of love

But please forgive me

If I forget

Every now and then

That history does not always

Have to

Repeat itself.