Happy New Ears

You want to know what I'm dealing with right now? My ears! I don't know what's going on but for months now they have constantly felt like they need to be popped but I can't seem to get that feeling to go away. And it's getting worse and worse. I probably need to go to the doctor but oh how I hate going to the doctor!

So basically that's all I can think about. I wanted to write a post all about the last 10 years and what I wanted out of the next 10 years but all I can do is sit here and be miserable about my ears. *Sob*

Christmas Crafting

Christmas is over and I seem to be back in "no inspiration valley." Of course, this probably has more to do with the fact that I have let myself become a lazy lump, than anything else. I'm justifying it by mumbling things about the "New Year" to myself.

O New Year! Please bring new inspiration to me!

So...as promised. I'm going to post some pictures! Hazah! *please forgive the quality as I took them all with my phone. Yes, I am that lazy*

First some decor:

Yay, our empty little tree. I was not up to buying ornaments, seeing as I was barely up to getting a tree at all, so it is mostly bare minus some candy canes, icicles and a small random assortment from Trey.

I got the idea offline (read: Martha Stewart) to use shaved crayons and wax paper to make little shapes to hang in the window. She did hearts (which I like much better) but I tried making trees, snowflakes and stars. Ya. I like the trees...that's about it. I will also never use thick ribbon like that again. I hate it. Feburary might present a chance for round two.



Pipe cleaners provided us with a mini Santa and some reindeer and trees. This is also thanks to Martha.

Now for some presents!
First off...each family got a homemade card and some snowman poop. The snowman poop is marshmallows covered in glue and glitter and set in a little condiment cup. It took me forever to find something that looked like a bucket to put it in and I finally found these condiment cups (they come in packs of four at Walmart.) I also put a ribbon with a button on each cup. It was supposed to be for decoration but ended up making the little buckets work as ornaments too. Bonus! Snowman Poop goes with this poem:

You've been bad,
So here's the scoop:
All you get is...
Snowman Poop!

Haha. Anyway...


I read about doing these in an All You magazine as hostess gifts but decided to give some of them as Christmas gifts as well. I think I'll always keep them on hand from now on in case I ever need a last minute gift. All it is is teacups glued to their saucers with a candle in it. So easy but so cute. You can also take the candle out and use it for a place to throw jewelry or whatever. Love!



This is what I gave Trey's mother, step-mother and sister. They are heating pillows that you can put in the microwave to warm up or in the freezer to turn into a cold pack. They are filled with rice and cinnamon (to make them smell good):). I was so excited about making them and I made them with my new Christmas present from my mom:

Thanks mom! I've got big plans for this baby. Course...I'm still learning but I'm super excited. I'm keeping a running list of projects! Plus I have a little neice coming along in March. Hello cute little girly stuff! Eeeee!

Last but not least:
I made this for my mom. She requested a scarf when I told her I had picked up knitting again. I'm probably most proud of this because, as long as I've been knitting (since about 7 or 8 years old) I've never actually finished a project. So ya...I'm proud of it. And it's HUGE: about 10 inches wide and probably 7 or 8 feet long. She wanted a long scarf, what can I say? Now I've just got to figure out how to knit something that isn't straight (like scarves and blankets). I've got something in mind and I can't wait to check "Knit something that isn't a scarf or a blanket" off my life list!

Alrighty there ya go. I'm deep into loving crafting right now and I'm hoping to start a craft section of the blog (it's on the 2010 to do list) so hopefully many more projects will show up here. These are just my first attempts and I am very happy. Yay! Ok now have an awesome rest of the holiday!

Mewry Chrustmas

It's Christmas Eve! And guess what I'm doing? WORKING! What?! This is officially my first "adult Christmas." For some reason I accidentally keep typing "Chrustmas" and I keep correcting it but, now that I think about it, working on Christmas Eve kind of does make this feel like "Crustmas": crusty and no fun.

However, there is hope on the horizon as I get off early and prepare to head to Atlanta to spend some time with Trey's family. I can't wait. I know I've said it before but I really lucked out in the family category and I can't wait to begin the holiday festivities with them!

So, in honor of the Day, I thought I would entertain you with a little poem about Christmas (yes I just typed that word three times before finally getting it right). Unfortunately I haven't actually written a poem yet so this is going to come right off the top of my head and will probably be exceedingly bad. Enjoy!

Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the store,
Not a thing was a-happinin, the employees were bored.
The papers were stacked, and ready to file,
But the office was slow, so that might be awhile.

The workers were sitting, bored at their desks,
While visions of leaving danced in their heads.
And I was a-sittin, ready to leave,
Wondering why it was here I must be.

The minutes ticked on, and drug by so slow!
And all I could think of was when I could go.
My first Christmas Eve as an adult and I think,
I liked Christmas much better as a child. This stinks!

The phone had rung once, but it was only some spam,
The rest of the day went on, dead as a pan.
I thought of home, with presents and snow!
And wondered when, there, I could go.

"I can't wait for tonight!"I thought with a grin,
I couldn't wait to be with my family again.
I knew there would be food, delicious and warm,
And I could think of this season when my Savior was born.

"Tick Tick!" Went the clock, has it been only three minutes?
This poem sure has an awful lot of words in it!
It is very long, and I'm trying to find,
More verses to fill this up, come on Mind!

I'm all packed to leave, with presents on the floor,
Ready to go, as soon as I walk through the door.
Christmas would be much easier if Santa would help,
Or at least if he had sent me some of his elves.

Still, this Christmas has not been so bad.
It's new, and it's different, but I can handle that.
Soon there will be children, running around!
And then I'll probably be rushing all over town.

So I think I'll sit back, and enjoy this holiday,
Before things get crazy and all my free time is taken away.
By children who need food, clothes and toys toys toys!
Hopefully I'll have a girl, not just all boys.

And now I am not going to write anymore.
This poem still goes on but I'm getting a bit bored.
But have a Merry Christmas and don't forget,
That "Chrustmas" can be "Christmas" yet.

Didn't I say that would be awful? Well, Merry Christmas anyway. I hope your holidays are everything you could ever want and that you keep in mind the Reason for the season.

XOXO

Bits

I'm going to go ahead and preface this post by saying this: I've got a lot on my mind right now and this is going to be a kind of dumping. I'm not sure what it will look like yet and I'm not sure where this is going so read on, or move on to the next blog on your list. Here goes:

• I love reading "my blogs" in the morning. I don't know what it is about them but each new entry in the blogs I read is like opening a tiny present. I look forward to it so much. I was reading this morning and just thinking about how grateful I am to the bloggers I read for letting me into their lives.
  
• On a related note, as I was reading blogs and looking through the pictures I realized that I hardly ever post pictures. Part of the reason for that is that I hardly ever write from the computer where my pictures are stored and part of that is because I don't take nearly enough pictures. I'm sorry. I'm going to try and post more pictures in the new year. First up I'll be posting some pics of the presents I made. Yay! Anticipation! lol
• I've been thinking about babies, family ect. again. It seems like every time I get on facebook, someone else I know is pregnant. It happened today in fact. I still want to be pregnant. The feeling isn't overwhelming like it was at one time but it is still there on the back burner. I am at peace with waiting right now and know that the future is probably a better, and more practical time for us to have a baby. I'm not going to lie and say I don't think about it. I do. A lot. And with thinking about having a baby comes thinking about how I want my family as a whole to be. Obviously, I have a LOT of time before that happens to prepare (lets start with one please!) but it is still fun to think about. I'm torn between having just a few (which would be easier, probably, and make for a smaller one-on-one feel) or having a lot (which would probably be harder, especially when they are young but leaves me with a lot more options of who to live with when I'm old! haha). Things to ponder...
• I think that the older I get, the worse my milk alergy gets. Yesterday I had a drink in the cafe that contained eggnog and I got so sick after! I might need to think about giving up milk products all together and re-trying soy or other lactose-free options. And I REALLY need to start taking calcium. I don't want my bones to turn to dust before I'm dead!
• Speaking of giving things up, the fast is coming up next month. If you don't know, our church does a 21 day fast every January. When I was in 24/7 we were required to do a total fast (just water) for the first 7 days and then we could choose our own things to fast the last two weeks (guidelines included: no entertainment, no resturants and, I think, no junk food? Not sure on that last one...). I admit, I didn't fast anything last year. Of course, I wasn't going to this church because I lived in Utah at the time, but still. So, the 2010 fast is approaching and the time has come to decide what to fast. I've pretty much already decided not to go on a full fast. It's so different when you work in the real world and, honestly, I'm not up for it. I've been thinking about a Daniel fast or just fasting certain things. I have no idea...All I know is that, considering I want 2010 to be AWESOME, and also considering that Trey and I have a lot of decisions to make and things to pray about coming up, I think fasting is going to be especially important at this time in our lives.
  
• Christmas has been totally weird this year. I'm not sure if I'm more excited or more ready for it to be over.
  
• I have noticed that my interests change almost on a daily basis. One day I want to sew, one day I am interested in food and making meal plans and couponing ect., one day I just want to write all day, one day I want to read all day, one day I want to scrapbook or knit or just do nothing. And now I'm trying to figure out if I've always been like this or if I'm going through a phase....
• My cat is BAD! It seems like we just get over one bad habit of her's and she starts another. First she was driving me crazy by whining at the door and trying to dig her way under everytime we shut her out of a room. That ended and then a few weeks ago she was jumping up on the counter and getting into anything baked (muffins, bread). We got over that and then she was playing in the tree. We got over that and now she is tearing things up. At first it was small and didn't really matter, but then yesterday I came home and my duvet cover was completely tore up! Like, as in holes. Lucky for her it was an inexpensive duvet and I want to replace it anyway. Unlucky for her, I was not planning on replacing it soon. I could have killed her. Moxie is getting declawed after the holidays.
• Holidays as a grownup are not as fun as holidays as a kid. They are stressful and BUSY and don't include a Christmas break.
  
• I'm currently obsessed with photography. I wish I was good at it and I wish I had the time to learn more about it.

That's all for now. Ta.

Snow

Snow is never something I thought I would miss. I have disliked snow since I was about 14, which also happens to be the last time I went skiing. I hate the way people drive in the snow and I hate how it makes everything WET and FREEZING. So, when I moved to Birmingham for good, I was so happy to finally be rid of snow in my life! That is, until I realized this will be my first winter, in the history of ever, without snow. And it sure doesn't feel much like winter at all.

The past two years, even though I lived in Birmingham, I got to go home for a couple of weeks at Christmastime and I always saw snow. And now this year...well I think I found the reason it was so hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit: it didn't feel much like Christmastime. In fact, it has felt closer to Halloween-time than Christmastime for what I'm used to.

Winter and snow were synonymous to me growing up. I mean, what is a winter day on the elementary playground without building huge snowmen and getting in trouble for secret snowball fights? I remember one year we spent the whole morning out on the playground trying to build a snowman with snowballs as big as we were. It took several of us little ones to push the massive mounds around the grass. We thought it was the best, and longest, recess ever. I don't know how we thought we were going to stack up that snowman but we never got to try because school got out early.

School got out early and got canceled all the time. "School canceled because of snow," is what you wanted to hear when you rushed to the T.V. in your pajamas in the morning. Yay for snow days! Does school ever get canceled in the South? One year we had an extra long Christmas break because of a blizzard. When I was in high school we had and extra long spring break for the same reason.

I remember standing at the bus stop, smoothing out the snow with my Keds to make the ground slick enough to slide on. Keds were the perfect shoe for sliding in the snow because they had absolutely no tread on the bottom. I would get a running start and then sliiiiide as far as I could across the snow covered street, loving the shiny trail my shoe left behind me. There were snow covered caves in the back yard, expeditions across the unfamiliar white terrain that made my neighborhood into a sparkling fresh mystery world and snowmen that stayed up long after the snow on the ground had melted.

I guess I always took snow for granted. I knew that there were people who didn't get snow where they lived and people who had never even seen snow; but I never thought of that as a big deal. Now I see it as a loss. There is just something about snow that makes Christmas seem more magical.

So I hope I get to go home for the holidays and see snow some year. And I hope my kids get to have at least a few White Christmas's. Here's to snow: sorry I never saw your worth.

My list

I started working on my life list today. Well, not started, but worked on for sure. I posted it in my sidebar if you're curious. I also tried to learn how to post tabs at the top of my blog so I could display my list on a different page, but that was too hard so I settled for learning how to strike through words on blogger. See TaDa! Now I can cross words off my list as I complete them. Score!

Anyway, as I was working on my list I started to come into the thinking that my list was way more important than the other things in my life right now (excluding God and Family of course). Did that sentence make ANY sense at all? I guess what I'm getting at is that my list looked way more fun than my job and I decided I'd rather do it than work. Haha. Maybe someday.

Another good thing about this list: it lifted my spirits. When I actually typed the whole thing out and looked at it I started thinking "I can do these things! My life can be exciting!" And it pulled me out of my spiral of mundane despair. For now, at least, I have something to look forward to! Completing the tasks on my list! And they are all things that I want to do so that doubles the fun! I mean, who wants to check off things on a list of things they hate? Not moi!

Now, most life lists are things that people want to do before they die: "Bucket Lists" of things they want to do before they "Kick the Bucket." MY list started off as more of a "Things I want to do before I'm 30"--List. So, most of those things I want to accomplish in the next 8 years. Some of them, like "Take my kids to Disney World" or "Visit all 50 states" are more of life long goals but most are for before I kick my 30-bucket.

Soooo...a new year is about to begin. I am counting the days, (21) because I just KNOW 2010 is going to be a great year. And I'm looking forward to starting my journey of crossing things off my list! Let the strike-through-ing begin!

Faith

Why are some times so much easier than others to have faith?

Although 24/7 encompassed some pretty stressful times in my life, it always seemed easier for me to talk to God and to have faith. I find, as I am outside the little bubble, that faith is not always so close to grasp. So often I feel that I've fallen so far away. Times are tough when you have to be an adult! I never knew. And here I am, barely 22 yearls old, newlywed and totally lost. I find myself struggling almost daily with stress, anxiety, fear. I've started developing body aches I'm too young to have because of the stress.

And it all just makes me feel like the biggest failure. A failure who didn't go to college. A failure who can't take care of her family. A failure who didn't plan enough ahead, didn't save enough, didn't choose the right path. The funny thing is, I am a planner, a saver and a thinker. Also, I'm a worrier but I'm not sure if that applies or not.

So as I'm feeling all these things, I realize that I have been being the worst friend to God. I don't trust Him enough, I hardly talk to Him and I am DEFINITELY not listening. What brought me to this realization was when I went to him asking for help. Lately the life-stress that I wasn't prepared for is eating me alive. I didn't have anyone to talk to and I had nowhere to turn and I turned to God. And I asked for help: for protection, for wisdom, for a miracle. And then I realized that I had no right AT ALL to be asking for Him to be a good friend to me when I had been such a terrible one to Him.

Now listen, I know, in my head, that there is nothing we could EVER do to deserve God's love and help. And I know that, for some strange reason, He chooses to give it to us anyway. So I knew that my feelings of unworthiness were just more lies satan was trying to slip in among the feast of other lies he was feeding me. But that didn't really help. I tried to struggle through it and go to God anyway but the whole thing just made me think "after this I'll do better. I'll do this, I'll do that."

It can be very hard for me to have faith. I'm lucky: both my jobs are full of Christians. I have a wonderful, God-fearing husband and family. So why is it so hard for me? It's not like I'm struggling alone in a secular enviornment. And yet I'm not doing much better than if I was. It's all very sad.

So much to do! So little to blog

I know I have been absent again. I guess it is becoming the theme of my blog. BUT I have had so many things I've been working on what with crafts to make and the holidays being here now. I plan to post the stuff I'm making on here but most of it is for Christmas so I'm going to have to wait until the holidays are up!

So many parties and crafts! O this season is going to FLY by. I might be out of commission till the holidays are over. Happy Holidays to you and yours!

Knitting for stress

I'm knitting. Yes that's right: knitting. And loving it. It's relaxing for me, but I also think it might be making me go cross-eyed. Well, that and starting at the computer. For a while I thought I might need glasses because my eyes weren't focusing and I was getting headaches. Now I think it has more to do with this devil that is the computer than my eyes.

Are the holidays supposed to be stressful? I mean, pretty much everyone seems to get stressed around the holidays. Which I think is ironic because aren't the holidays supposed to be a time when you relax and become less stressed? It is pretty sad how the purpose of the holidays has been so grossly distorted. What used to be a time of giving thanks and celebrating the birth that brought us life, has become a wild, greedy gorge fest. And I'm not pointing fingers because I have definitely done my fair share of wild and greedy gorge festing. Maybe that is why I just can't seem to get into the holidays this year. It's not that I don't love the decorations and the festive-ness of the season...it's just that the thought of the holidays makes me tired. And I don't even have to do anything! I can't imagine if I had to buy presents for a pack of childern as well as possibly hosting relatives or (gasp) preparing a feast! Ah, yet more evidence that I am obviously not ready for children.

I know I wrote in the fall that fall was like my New Year. And that is true, I DO like to make personal changes in the fall. But the new year is my New Year too. I guess I like to double up. So now, is this year fades, I have been thinking of the dawning of the New Year coming up. There are so many things I want for this year! I'm not into making resolutions because I see "New Year's Resolutions" as an interchangable heading for "Impossible Standards Resulting in Failure." So I don't make resolutions but I do try and make changes. And I'm sure this year is going to be no different.

I just think 2010 is going to be great. I hope it brings solidity to our lives and security for the future. I hope it brings new friends and new family members. I hope it brings happiness and FUN. It's funny, when you're young you sort of have the idea that life just happens, and it does, but life also takes work. A lot of work. This past year has been a lot of learning in that area for me. So now I'm hoping that my new-found knowledge will help me make this year better. Now that I have accepted the fact that I have to work (hard!) for the things I want, maybe it wont be such a suprise when life shows up ready to work.

A lot of my life right now is down time. And when I have down time I think. And right now I'm thinking about the future: what I want for me and what I want for us. So well see how it pans out. It is going to be amazing, in a year, to look back and see how far I've come. I can't wait!

Weekend

Nothing much new is going on for me to post. This weekend was super busy but very rewarding and fun.

Friday,Trey and I went to New Moon. WHY we went to it when it was opening weekend and I knew there would be gaggles of teeny-bopper girls there (just the kind that drive me nuts and, incidentily, the kind I probably was) I have no idea. We got there and the line was out the door and down the street. Yes, that's right: down the street. Ugh. At this point I am remembering how the first Twilight movie made me want to rip my eyes out and wondering if it's even worth it.

Finally we get into the movie and I am sitting there expecting to be let down...again. Turns out, I was dissappointed, or maybe the term I'm looking for is "pleasantly surprised." The movie, I estimate, was roughly 1000 times better than the first. As someone who is a fan of the books (yes I admit) I was very much relieved. In fact, I think they actually spent money on this one! Not to mention that Jacob was enough to make every Edward girl question their loyalties. Yum. (um Trey, you're still my number one but us girls are allowed to crush on fake people. Just sayin')

Saturday was spent cleaning the house which was, for me, emmensly satisfying except for the part where Trey said, "But this is how you get your stress out, right?" No. No it's not. Just like I don't like to be found cooking in the kitchen in my summer dress and pearls. Or really, at all.

Sunday started early with both Trey and I working at the cafe and ended late with me getting caught up in all kinds of little craft projects. I love love love crafts and now our apartment has a few bitty decorations to show for it. It got me all excited about other crafts I could do too! O and all the scrapbooking possibilities! O my! In between we celebrated an early Thanksgiving with Trey's family and I was reminded AGAIN how blessed I am in the in laws category. This week is real Thanksgiving with my other in laws and I'm excited about that as well. As a girl who thought the only option was a mother in law who didn't like her, I am happy to report that I have been blessed with TWO wonderful mother in laws whom I love and are splendid to me and I couldn't be happier.

Turkey day is approaching and the Holiday Spirit is finally creeping into my soul. Let the festivities begin!

Lists

I am a great lover of lists. I adore lists. Lists complete me. I keep lists about everything: groceries (oh how origional), Christmas presents (for other people. I can't think of anything I want), lists of craft ideas, lists of meal ideas, lists of things I like, life lists, lists of blog ideas, lists of book ideas, to do lists, (Lots of to do lists. I definitely have more than one to do list.), wish lists, lists of songs I like and might want to buy, lists of things I don't want to forget. Actually, I think a big part of the reason I like lists is because I can't seem to remember things unless I write them down, and listing is a good way to do that.

I keep my lists in my phone. Hello! The genius that invented notes in phones? I heart you. I mean, I carry my phone with me everywhere, even places I'm not supposed to, so what better place do I have to keep all my ever-growing, ever-changing lists? Awesome. So...today I thought I would transfer some of my lists to my blog. That way, if my phone ever runs away or gets mutilated, I will still have my precious lists. Ok, I email them to myself sometimes for the same reason, but come on. I gotta write something.

One of my lists in my phone is labeled "What I want to be know as." One day, when I was having an identity crisis, I decided to put into words the things that I wanted to be. So...

Leader
Apologist
Writer
Author
Mother
Woman of God
Good stewardess
Humorist
Thoughtful
Generous
Creative
Fun

Next, jobs I think I might be interested in;

Photography
Physical thearpy
Librian
Reporter/journalist
Counselor

My Favorites (boy this one has changed some since I last updated it!) And I'm thinkin this list should just maybe be titled "Things I like" because "Favorites" would be more like: favorite color, favorite place, favorite food ect ect. Anyway:

Scrubs (haha not so much anymore!)
Cute dresses
iPhones (ya the novelity wears off)
Nose rings
Vintage Polly Pocket and Littlest Pet Shop
Long necklaces
Yoga mats (ya maybe until I found out yoga is HARD!)
Cute running shoes/clothes
Bikinis
Blogging and blog reading
Rubberband animals (that wore off quickly too)
Bunnies
Owls
Crafting
Scrapbooks
Couponing

And...my bucket list. Such as it is. Actually, this started out as a "Things I want to do before I'm 30" list and has morphed into more of a bucket list although a lot of these things I WOULD like to get done before I'm 30. Time's a tickin yo!

Have a baby
Have style
Learn to dance
Get a six pack (hey a girl can dream)
Run a marathon
Grow my hair to my elbows (almost...)
Get something published
Finish school
Make a magazine
Sell something on the internet
********** (this one is internet private)
Visit Europe
Lean about photography
Have a garden
Have a craft blog with things I actually make
See a Broadway show

That last list is probably the one I update the most.

Keep in mind that these change ALL THE TIME.

So, I guess what made me decide to write this post is this: as I was looking through my lists on my phone the other day, I realized that most of them were my way of working out who I am. It's funny, people always seem to be trying to find themselves, I'm no different, but everyone has different approaches. I probably reverted to lists because of my love of organization. Lists give me something tangible that I can look at and check things off of. I didn't set out to try and find myself when I started writing lists. I just was trying to keep track of things. It was only recently, like I said, that I found out that lists seem to be my "method." There are just too many things that I want to do and see and be. I guess, this is how I keep track.

So, that's me. I wonder how other people set out to find themselves?

Sparkle and the Jewelry Box

Once upon a time there was a fairy named Sparkle. Sparkle lived in the land of the fairies, but her favorite thing to do was go and spy on the humans. There was one house in particular where she liked to watch. This house had a little girl, about five years old, that fascinated Sparkle. Every morning, after her chores, the little fairy would fly through the leaves of the forest, flitter over the little creek and settle herself on the windowsill ouside the little girl's room.

Sparkle was a young fairy and, as such, was not quite old enough to be a fairy godmother. She knew that when she came of age she would be assigned to a human that she would watch over. Sparkle desperately hoped that she would be assigned to the little girl in the house she liked to watch, but for now all she could do was wait and hope. She desperately loved this little girl, whose name was Violet. She would laugh as Violet played around her room and would cry when the little girl was sad.

One day, during one of her visits, Sparkle noticed something new in Violet's room. It was a shiny little jewelry box. When the lid was opened it played a tiny, tinkly little song and a delicate little ballerina twirled on the spot. It was obvious that Violet loved her new treasure. She was squealing with delight at the ballerina and kept winding up the knob to play the music over and over. Now, as you may know, fairies are so small that they can only feel one emotion at a time. Sparkle saw the little ballerina in the jewelry box and was taken over by an emotion she had never felt before: jealousy. Jealousy consumed the little fairy until the tips of her little pointed ears turned green. She wanted to be beautiful like the little ballerina. She wanted to dance to the little song. But most of all, she wanted to be loved by little Violet.

In a stormy mood, Sparkle rose up and flew back to the fairy village. Up, up, up one of the surrounding trees she flew until she reached the highest branch where she plunked herself down and sat to stew. After a while, the jealousy was replaced with sadness and Sparkle flew back down to the ground. She went to see her friend, the oldest fairy in the village, to see if the older fairy could help her with her problem.

After Sparkle explained her plight, the old fairy said, "Sparkle, you know that fairies are magical creatures. I can see that you are very distraught and I can offer you help, though it will come at great cost."

"What can be done?" asked Sparkle.

"If you are willing to give up your life as a fairy and give up your wings, you can trade places with the little ballerina in the jewelry box."

Sparkle was very excited and, being so small, could not be anything but excited so she quickly agreed. The old fairy said some magic words and Sparkle felt herself start to change. Everything was dark and she felt her wings drop away. Suddenly, she saw a thin crack of light, that grew wider and wider. She realized that she was inside the little music box inside Violet's bedroom. The music began to play and Sparkle's feet, rooted in place, began to turn around and around. She had become the little ballerina and she was happy.

Years passed and Violet grew too old for the little jewelry box. She played with it less and less until one day, she stopped playing with it at all. The box got dusty and was finally moved up into the attic for storage. Sparkle sat in the dark, her feet rooted to the base of the jewelry box and a permanent smile pasted on her face. There was nothing to be done. Her wings and her fairy magic had left her when she wished to become the ballerina. Forever she would be fated to wait until some other little girl was presented with the, now antique, jewelry box.

Be careful what you wish for.

Imagination gone

I find myself sitting here, again, not being able to think of anything to write about. It's frustrating not only because I want to write just to unclog my brain, but also because I just find the typing so relaxing.

I have tried to pick up journaling again as well. Ever since I really got into blogging I haven't really kept a journal. It's just so much easier to type than to handwrite things. Well, that and the fact that I have always seemed to journal about boy troubles and now that I've settled down with a man, I don't have any teen angst to spout. However, I have tried to pick it up again. There are just some things that are better left off the internet. And I need somewhere to spill due to my lack of girlfriends at the moment.

I don't know WHY I seem to be in this constant state of writers block lately. My suspecions remain that it has something to do with the fact that a majorty of my life is eventless. Not that I necessarily want to write about life events (I am currently put of by "my day" type postings), I just find that when things are happening to and around me they give me more ideas for creativity. Of course, I can make the argument, even to myself, that sitting here all day with nothing to do would be a good time to let my imagination roam! Yet, when I go looking for my imagination, it seems to escape me. Have I lost my imagination, internet? I was warned once that it could happen, but I never though it could happen to me! How could it when my imagination was a wild thing with no abandon. I know that part of it left when my confidence was stolen. But I still feel like I could get that part back.

Now, I feel like I should take some of that back. I do still have my imiganation. It's there, it's just elusive. I use it to narrate my life in my head and to imagine all sorts of things. I just don't seem to be able to use it to write. It is selective. And it's maddening.

I'm still constantly writing down book and blog ideas in my phone but when I actually have a chance to write? Either I'm not in the mood to write about those things or they reveal themselves to be altogether lame. Are all my ideas doomed to be lame or have I not hit the vein of gold I'm so desperately searching for?

While at my inlaws this weekend I decided to watch Twilight in leiu of the football the guys were watching. (Have I mentioned that I DETEST football?) I haven't seen the movie since it came out in theatres (O can I even describe how disappointed I was in this cinimatic disaster?) so I decided to give it another chance since I haven't read the book recently, making it less fresh in my mind and, hopefully, making the movie less disappointing. That and the fact that I DO want to see New Moon despite my doubts finally led me to pop in the DVD and settle down to watch. It wasn't as bad as the first time but it still wasn't great. My mother in law and I ended up watching the "behind the scenes" stuff on the bonus disk and I found that more interesting than the movie; a first for me. All I remember thinking is "if this lady can write a book, I can too." It gave me hope until I was hit full on in the stomach with the realization that I STILL DON'T HAVE AN IDEA. People say that getting your book published is hard but I think I'm going to have it even harder if I don't come up with something to actually write about. Sigh.

I'm starting to have a hard time understanding why I want to be a writer so bad if I don't have anything to write about. In my head I picture writers more as people who have too much to write about than too little. I'm not exactly sure that it is a good sign that I don't seem to have any inspiration. So why the heck do I want to be a writer so bad? Is it just because I love to read? Is it beause I can't act or sing so I don't know how else to leave my mark on the world? Ugh who knows? I think that I just want to have something that is mine. Characters who are mine. A story that is mine.

But I also don't want it to be average. So much of what I read and see is average. I want it to be great! I want it to be the type of book like I love: the ones that make you want to be in them. The ones where the characters become real to you and you look for them in public because you just know they've got to be out there. I guess that's why I can't write yet. I haven't met those characters yet. I know I have to meet them before I can start introducing them at parties. Their world has to be somewhere I visit before I can bring my friends. I have to believe in the story myself before I try to convince others that it's real.

So I might not always have fodder for my blog. I guess I'll just have to keep hunting, searching, for the story that is to be mine. And maybe writing that story will catalyst me into writing better blogs, though I'm really trying to do just the opposite. I just hope that if I keep writing, even if it's about nothing, that maybe one day out from my fingers will flow just what I've been looking for. So here I go, back to the drawing board, back to practicing.

As seen by ME!

I love fall. I think I have already established that on this blog. But you know what I especially love? Fall in the city! Well, that, and real Fall and Fall That Includes Pies.

I had a sweet craving today. O huge suprise. Like "having a sweet craving" isn't just an excuse to eat sweets. I'm on to me. Lucky for me, the lady I work with was also having a sweet craving, so we enlisted the help of the Only Other Person Who Works With Us (aka our service tech) to hold down the fort while we headed to McDonalds.

Now, I usually try to avoide the Micky D's. I don't know why but when I see those golden arches my mind and body say "pool of oil and grease! toxic! abort!" This particular McDonalds also happens to be in the decidedly lower end as far as McDonalds go. There isn't anything in particular that makes it stand out negatively to me in and the otherwise consistant sea of negative aspects that I associate with the franchise. It just gives me the heebs. It could be the fact that it looks like a little grease spot on the surface of this city. Or it could be the cat calls that issue as you walk in. Or it could be the fact that it is nearly impossible to get in and out due to it's less than ideal location. Of course, it's location could be a blessing in disquise: discouraging people from entering and, thus, diminishing the remainder of their day.

Anyway, you get the picture. So, sweets being our goal, and not knowing where anything else was in the city, we headed for this little beauty. Of course, the whole ordeal took much longer than it should have and we bemoaned the invention of the double drivethru. (You know the ones: they force you to let people from another lane merge into the main drivethru lane and don't seem to serve any purpose except making everything take longer and making everyone mad.)

Finally, sweet treats in hand we headed back, windows down, and I was able to block the bad memory and focus on what a nice day it was. The sun was out, the air was cool and crisp and the colors of the trees were breathtaking. There were people walking on the streets and seen were scarves and light jackets and gloves. I love it. This is true fall. When you grow up in a place where your two season choices are winter and summer it really makes you appreciate those less seen, more beautiful (I think) seasons. It also doesn't hurt that this weather has sucked out all the humidity, thus suspending our love hate relationship for the time being.

It's a beautiful day, my pies have been scarfed and the weekend draws near. I'm dressed for the season in my scarf and stockings and I'm about to make myself some nescafe. What more could a girl want?

Hey, I know you- updated

I read a lot of blogs. I have always liked reading blogs. Well, ever since I discovered them back in the days when I thought myspace was cool. I don't know why I love it so much but I look for them all over the internet.

I like personal blogs because I'm nosey and I like to read about people's lives. More than that though, I like seeing how they put things. I like bloggers who can take a mundane event and make it hilarious or important. I like how different people have different writing styles and you could take one subject and 20 people would write about it 2o different ways.

I like how raw blogging is. Weather it's made up stories or journal-type entries, blogging is so raw! I like that it is unedited. I like seeing the typos and the flaws. I think I would love being an edititor but I hear it helps if you have had something published. Ya...that's on my life list.

It's like reading someone's journal: something I've always wanted to do but never did.

The thing about reading blogs is they make me feel, sometimes, like I'm the only one reading them and that they were written entirely for my benefit and entertainment. And then I start to feel like I know the people who's blogs I'm reading. Which is sometimes true and sometimes not. But now I'm afraid if I ever happened to see the writer of one of the blogs I read in public, I would embarrass myself by going up and talking to them. Ok, I'm not really afraid I would do that. I know myself too well.

I'm not shy, I'm just reserved. Now this may come as a shock to people who used to know me, but I consider myself quiet. So that's how I know I wouldn't go up and talk to a blogger in public. I mean, I am not afraid to talk to people. I'm fine, laid back, cool, whatever, but I'm not "outgoing" most of the time I guess. I'm "ingoing." Haha. And sometimes I am more "outgoing" than others. I might be broken. I'm not sure.

I've started swimming! I decided that the reason I wasn't going to the gym because I was dreading running. I've always felt like running was the only option so I changed that misconception in my brain and decided to do some other things till I get back in shape and then take up running again. If I want. I figure that's the only way I'm going to get myself to the gym. If I don't feel like I have to do something I don't want to do, I'll be more likely to go. Otherwise, I might not go at all and that wouldn't be helping anyone. I guess I was thinking all or nothing and I had to realize I could do something in between. And I've loved swimming so that's good. I guess I'll just keep mixing it up.

And that last paragraph has nothing to do with the rest of this post. I just wanted to write it down before I forgot. Cuz otherwise I wont remember. Now when I go back and read my blog someday, I'll know what I was up to. And see? Now I'm back on the subject of blogging. Because if I didn't blog, or journal or something, I'm not sure I would remember my life. And right now I like typing more than writing so blogging it is.

And that, people, is the end of this post.

*update* I literally just saw one of the ladies who's blog i read, like, right in front of my face and I didn't say a word. See? Point proven.

Every little thing is going to be alright

Last night I bought the lie.

I bought the lie that satan was spoon feeding me, and I bought it hook, line and sinker. I felt like I was scrambling to find a foothold and I started to believe that it wasn't going to be ok.

Trey and I had our first "real" fight last night I think. It was about money. Not a big surprise since that is one of the leading things couples fight about. And there I was, losing traction on what I know to be true and, instead, drowning right where satan wanted me.

I've struggled some with depression in my life. Not too terribly much, but enough to know that it isn't just "being sad." It was weird, to me, that I struggled with depression since I have always had a mostly positive outlook on life. Depression is so hard to explain. It feels like death and people who have never experienced it just assume that you can "will yourself out" so to speak. You can't.

So back to the present: Last night I felt that Dark Cloud that is depression trying to move in over my life. And I told it to get the heck outa here. I went to church (something I have been trying to make a point to do, instead of just working there) and I spent a lot of time thinking. And I decided that I need to make some changes. You can't get a different result if you keep doing the same thing over and over again. They say that is the definition of insanity. And things aren't really workin out for me right now. So I've got to change something here on my end.

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I don't know what I'm going to do, as of yet. I know that sitting at my desk with the internet is not workin out for me. I know that never getting any exercise isn't workin out for me. I know that watching so much TV isn't workin out for me. So I've got to change those things at least.

Well, today I am having a great day. Yes, I have to work. Yes, I got almost no sleep last night. But it's ok. Because I'm changing my perspective from *grumble grumble* to "every little thing, is gonna be alright."

Ciao.

Blank

I've still got nothin. Everything I write turns to dust. I'll try to spend some time staring off into space this weekend and maybe come up with something new.

Till then,

Stay classy internet.

More of a journalistic entry

I know I've been saying that I'm going to post more about the friend thing. In fact, I think I said that I would post about it yesterday? Ya...I lied. Sorry about that. It's coming, just...not today.

Are there people who constantly have things to write about? Because it seems that, for me, my inspiration comes in waves. It also seems that a lot of my ideas, and I do have a lot, sound way better in my head than they are. You should see my unpublished drafts. There may be more drafts than published entries to this blog.

I'm tired today. Have I mentioned that? To be honest, I've been tired a lot lately. And sickly. The plan was to get back into working out this week. Who want's to guess if that happened? Ya, you're right: Nope. Usually I'm fine after I've actually gotten myself up. The hard part for me has always been getting myself up. 'Course, Trey isn't much better. I practically have to drag him out of bed everyday. So this doesn't equal much working out for us. I guess we could work out at night. I used to always work out at night when I lived in Utah. Sometimes even super late at night, even though I had to get up early the next day. What happened to my dicipline? Now, by the time I get off work, heading to the gym is the LAST thing I want to do.

Not only did I used to have more dicipline but I used to have more energy and spunk and general good life skills. I don't want to point the finger but I think my biggest problem right now is this job. It is dragging the life outa me. It's sapping my energy and my willpower. It's KILLING me, ya'll.

Actually, things have gotten slightly better. I was having some major panic issues the past few weeks but I finally got to a content place. Let me rephrase that: I've gotten to a peaceful place. I'm not exactly content, and I'm still interested in moving along, but I'm not AS stressed out. I know now that God is going to work things out and I just have to take things one day at a time. I'm no longer desperate and I'm no longer scared. I'm accepting of the way things are for now. And I'm waiting to see what happens.

All that to say, I'm still not totally stress-free. Sitting at a desk all day without anything to break up the monotony is not exactly conducive to a happy lifestyle. Not to meantion that the traffic I have to sit in everyday makes me want to scratch things. But I'll be ok, like I said, for now.

I've got to find some way to get back some motivation. The only time I feel my "get up and go" is when I'm working at the cafe. Other than that, most of the things I do seem to be pointless. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, I love my life, outside work. It's just that work takes up most of my time so it's become kind of a central figure in my life and takes up a lot of brain space.

I guess, to wrap this up, it's hard for me to be creative and write creativly in this setting. I'm most creative when I have high emotions: more moody and poetry writing-y when I'm down and more creative and up for writing stories when I'm happy. Right now, when I'm just apathetic, it's hard for me to spit anything out but apathy. What goes in must come out and all that. Sigh.

The thing about this blog is this: when I first created it I was all obsessed with couponing and stuff so I thougt I would record all about that (not that I don't still coupon, I do). I have kind of an addictive personality. Or maybe like and all or nothing type personality? I don't know. All I know is that I'll get on a kick about something and then, a lot of times, it will fade and something else will take it's place. Anyway, then I wanted to write stuff people will read. And now...well now I see this blog more as a practice space for me. I still want to write someday. Or now. But sometimes I have nothing to write about so I just get on and write posts like this. Like, even if I don't have anything to say, I feel like I still need to write something.

So ya. This blog isn't always going to be golden. In fact, it might not even be brass most of the time. But it's going to be here. To write stuff to remind me, to practice, for random bouts of creativity, for recording stuff. Here it is.

Night talker

Last night I had to go to a meeting an hour away. Because of the time change and the NUMEROUS questions of my peer employees, I, and the other lady I work with, had to drive back in the dark.

As I was blabbing incessently, something I often do when driving at night, I started to analyze myself. I have always been a night talker. Most of the time I'm Miss Generally Average Talker. But for some reason, at night, especially in the car, the floodgates open. Ask my mom. Ask my husband. There have been many late night shopping trips with my mom when I've talked her ear off, even after being silent on the way out. And I'm suprised my husband hasn't fallen asleep at the wheel as I bore him to death with my constant babbling on road trips. The funny thing is, during the day when we're in the car, I am silent as the grave. Usually being in the car makes me tired, which makes me quiet. But at night, well, I don't know, but I just can't shut up. It's odd, because sometimes I even realize that I'm talking, well, an awful lot, but it's like I can't stop.

Fortunately I usually only do this with people I know well. I don't, you know, like talk strangers to death.

So, back to last night, my coworker's phone rings and I have to stop my endless stream of babble while she talks on the phone. And while I'm being quiet, I start to think about how I'm talking and talking and I start to wonder WHY? My brain comes up with all kinds of nonsense and I come to the conclusion that maybe I talk so much because I can't see that well at night? So maybe, because of the loss of my sense of sight, I overcompensate with talking? Except talking isn't a sense so that might not exactly work...

And then I realize, I am overtalking to someone who, while we get along really well and I consider to be a friend, is probably not someone I should be doing this to. And THEN I realized that I might be ready for a friend.

After Trey and I got married, I kind of fell off the friend wagon. I don't know, things happened, I changed, and I didn't go out looking for new friends. And I have been perfectly fine with that. In fact, I had come to the conclusion, about a month ago, that this has been a time in my life where I have been ok being alone and spending time with my husband. It was a very peaceful realization. Cut to last night and me having another realization: I think I'm ready to start the search now. I'm ready to have someone I can spill too. A girl friend.

Sooo...I'll get on that now.

I'll talk about it more...tomorrow? Yes, probably tomorrow. Right now I am tired and my vision is blurry. Maybe I also need to look into glasses?

Irrational things I think about my future children

In lieu of something meaningful, here is a random post that I wrote a few months ago. I can't think today so please enjoy my meaningless ramblings. Also, we need prayer. Also, this post might just be better to skip.

What if someone close to us or in our family steals my baby names and then I can't name my children what they are already named in my head?


What if I can't figure out how to teach my children to read correctly and they have no concept of "th" or "gh" or silent letters and they say spaghetti like "SPAAAG-HET-HE?"


What if I can't figure out how to potty train them and they have to go to school in diapers and all the kids will laugh at them until they figure out how to do it on their own?


What if I have too many kids to fit in my back seat and they can never have friends go with us to do things because there will be NO ROOM.


What if everyone wants to hold my cute little babies so bad that I barely ever get to hold them and I'm sad?


What if no one ever wants to hold my babies and I get burned out and sad?

What if my babies never sleep?

What if I have, like, 7 at one time and I can't afford a nanny?

What if they don't like me?

What if other kids don't like them?

What if they are bad?

What if they always want to sleep in my bed? I would HATE that.

Maybe I'm not ready...

Mr. Rivers

Mr. Rivers sat unblinkingly at his desk.

"Tap tap tap," went the old tree against the panes of the window.

"Tap tap tap," went Mr. Rivers' pencil on the desk. He had been staring at the blank wall across the study for over half an hour now and to no avail. The plain beige paint wasn't exactly giving him the spark of enlightenment he needed right now. With a sigh and a grunt, Mr. Rivers sat back in his chair. The old chair creeked against the hardwood floor in protest to the weight shift. He rolled his head to the side and stared at the bookself to the left of his desk. Old, dusty books stared back at him. When was the last time anyone had dusted this office? Oh well, he thought, old books are supposed to be dusty anyway.

Mr. Rivers looked around the rest of the study. It was exactly what he thought a good study should look like: dark wood covered the floor and shone in the reflected light of the fire in the hearth. The mantel was large and took up almost one whole wall. It held some dusty old photographs but predominitly featured a carved pipe placed on stands in the center. Mr. Rivers was not a big smoker, the pipe was mostly for effect, but he did take it down every now and then, when he was deep in thought, to take a few puffs. In front of the fireplace were two arm chairs placed at an angle on a crimson rug. They were just the kind of chairs you would expect in a study; chairs that looked like they had come out of an old Sherlock Holmes movie. The opposite wall was covered in bookshelves holding his precious books, as well as a few other odds and ends. His desk sat in front of the window, facing the blank wall and the doorway. It was a good desk: dark, carved and polished wood, heavy and ornate. The desk was his favorite part of the office. It was his working place, his creative haven and his thinking corner.

"Tap tap tap," went the old tree. It was ticking away the minutes, the hours, that Mr. Rivers sat at his desk thinking about nothing. With another sigh, he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and pulled himself up from his chair. Nothing had come to him, and nothing would. It was time to chalk the situation up as a loss and move on.

Mr. Rivers opened the door of the study and walked down the hallway to the sitting room.

"Alright," he said to his somber son, "you can keep the puppy."

As he turned and walked back down the hall to the sounds of his children and their new pet celebrating, he couldn't help but smile just a tiny, private smile. Sometimes not being able to find the answer is the only answer you're going to get.

Oft I gaze
Idle eye,
Past the surface
To your heart.

Hard to read.
I used to know,
So well...

Now,
Unfamaliar to me.

Lo, a twinkle.
Nay,
Mistaken.

Could it be?
Alas,
Not taken.

Shy,
I feel.
Slowly breaking.

Strangers pass,
Hark!
Unseeing.

Wispers rise.
Stop!
Believing.

Enemies now?
No,
Indifferent.

Behold, a glance?
No,
you missed it.

Strange to me,
Yet,
Familiar.

Slumber parties

Last night I lay snuggled between my husband and my cat. Everything was quite. I could tell Trey was asleep because his breathing had gotten slower and heavier. I could tell Moxie was out, cause she had stopped purring and her nose was wistling like it sometimes does in her sleep. And that's when I realized that I was wide awake. I was afraid to move because I didn't want to wake anyone up, but all was quiet and I was wide, wide awake.

It reminded me of being at slumber parties and being the last one to fall asleep. It always seemed like that person, the last one awake, was me. I remember lying there in my sleeping bag, or whatever bedding we had rigged up, listening, hoping someone besides me was awake. I remember whispering softly into the darkness, sending out a signal and waiting for someone, anyone, to answer back. I hated being the last one awake at slumber parties, and yet it seemed I always was.

When I was little, more often than not, I would end up calling my parents in the middle of the night to come pick me up. I guess that makes me seem kind of lame but *apparently* I just couldn't hack it. I think my parents started to expect it. I liked the fun before bed but once everyone was asleep and I wasn't? That didn't really do it for me. And to top that off, usually I would psyche my self out. When I was little it was just general scared-of-the-darkness. I don't remember what I was afraid of but I know I was always afraid of something. And in a sleeping bag, on the floor, in a strange house it's a lot harder to hide from imagined fears than it is in your own bed with your parents close at hand. When I got older scary movies, practically a staple at slumber parties, where what kept me up. Of course, by then, I was too old to call home to be rescued. So I didn't get much sleep.

The scariest slumber party I remember wasn't from movies or imagined fears though. When I was just a little tyke, ok, fourth grade, my friends and I had befriended this unpopular girl at school. We decided to spend the night at her house one time, I think it was her birthday. Her dad was really sick and he slept out in the living room in an armchair. I don't know why but I was basically terrified of her dad. And the living room was where we were to spend the night as well. I suspect it was his ragged breathing through his oxygen tubing in the night that did it. There was no way I was spending the night there. And I wasn't the only one who called home.

I always wondered if we had hurt that girl's feelings. It's not like her life wasn't hard enough, then to have all her friends leave her birthday party in the middle of the night...well. I just hope we had enough tact to come up with a reason that wasn't related to her dad. I hope I said I wasn't feeling well, something. I heard her dad died a few years later.

So I guess I basically don't really like slumber parties. I mean, they are ok now. In later years I liked hanging out with my friends and sleeping over well enough. But mostly, I'm a homebody. I would just rather be at home. That way, if I'm the last one awake, I can just put notes in my phone about slumber parties so I can write a blog later. And then I can roll over in my husband's arms and fall asleep, content.

Sing

So I've basically decided that I should write a musical. I do that a lot don't I? Decide things.

So that's my plan. Unfortunately I don't have a story or any songs yet; just the idea that I would like to write a musical. Actually, I don't have any idea how to write songs. I can write poetry but I'm not sure that's the same as writing songs. Also, I'm not sure that writing songs for musicals is the same as writing songs in general. Also also, I have no idea how to write music. If I'm going to write a musical can I just write the words to the songs and then someone else can put music to them? I guess it's my musical so, really, I can do whatever I want.

I used to be able to sing. I think. Well, to be more accurate, I used to not be able to sing and then I went to thearpy and then I could sing. But not thearpy for singing. Just regular thearpy. True story. But a story for another time. O my gosh I think I just had the idea for my musical! I'm a freakin hero. Anyway, I couldn't sing and then I could and now I can't again. It's really strange. I like to sing, and I sing a lot, usually when I'm by myself. Ok I just realized that I lied. I don't sing a lot. I don't even know why I said that. It just flowed from my fingers. Odd. So I can't sing and *apparently* I'm a compulsive liar.

Ok so back to the point. If this has a point. I can't sing: I try but it's like I lost my ability to stay on key. It's really odd. And, frankly, kind of embarassing. I did used to love to sing. Now when I'm in the car I usually don't do anything but think. And talk to myself in my head. I guess that's why I want to go into writing, and not singing. Most of my ideas come to me while I'm driving.

Do you know those people who can't be in the car without having music on? It's like they can't be alone with their thoughts. I bet none of those people are writers. It's not that I don't like music, I do. But most of the time I don't even think to turn it on because I'm already lost in thought by the time I turn the car on.

Ok so after that huge rabbit trail, I guess my point was that in order to express myself musically I'll have to write a musical since I can't sing. Also, I guess I made the point that I can't write the music for my musical since I am not musically talented. See? Not a rabbit trail at all.

O ya, and I think I could be musically talented. I used to play the flute and the piano and the guitar and I was pretty good (at least at the first two. I couldn't get past the pain of growing callus's on my baby fingers with the guitar.) and I was a fast learner. Just wanted to clarify that I am not *entirely* musically enept. But I can't play any of those things now. So maybe I am. Ugh.

Car

I've had my car since I was 17. It wan't technically my first car, my first car was an old white van, but I don't really count that van.

I have a 2002 Hyundai Elentra. It is the same car as my mom. Well, my mom's is much nicer. It has leather seats and a moon roof and all the other perks that my poor car doesnt. Still, I love my car. I've been through a lot with the old girl. We've been through breakups and stress-screaming sessions with my friends. We've had flat tires and late nights. We've traveled back and forth to school, and back and forth across the county together several times. It's one of those places I've always felt safe. It's a place where I could cry and be alone. A place where I could travel and escape. I love my car.

I know someday I'm going to get a new car. I'm sure it will be nice and probably bigger. It will probably be the car that carts my babies around and takes kids to soccer practice. But this car took me to soccer practice and took me through acting like a baby and I'm not ready to give it up yet.

Trey and I had been talking about the possibility of having a baby soon. It's been weighing on my mind and, now that my sister-in-law is having a little girl, well I'm getting the itch in a strong way. But today we found out that my car needs a new clutch. It's not a big deal. In fact, that my car lasted this long without needing one is kind of a miracle. I mean, my mom had hers changed over a year ago and mine has many more miles. But my car hasn't been a safe place anymore. It's scary to merge into traffic with no power and it's scary to barely be able to make it up hills. It was a place I'd never been before with my car and I didn't feel safe at all.

So we've decided to wait on the whole baby front. Origionally we had talked about not getting a new clutch and, instead, looking at new cars for me. Baby carrying cars. But it scared me when I saw money getting tight. I don't like to feel unsafe like that. And it's not time to bring a baby, and expensive baby, into that. So we're replacing the clutch. Which means I'll probably have a few more good years with my car. Which gives us time to save up. And I can be ok with that I guess.

Disney

In my last post I promised a happy post about Disney. This is what I started writing on my phone on the tram on the way back from Magic Kingdom one night:

Disney smells like waffle cones and tastes like magic.

Coming back to the real world was like jumping off a cliff: you dread the inevitable collision the whole way, and when you finally hit the bottom it was worse than you could even have imagined.

I found myself envying the Disney staff. Surely here was a solid contingent of people who loved coming to work everyday. How could you not in the happiest place on earth?

I thought about Walt Disney: how his work and his vision has changed peoples lives and brought a rare kind of magic into a world that has forgotten magic so much in it's endless race of mundane. What must it be like to have a legacy that big? To be gone and yet have a thousand people touched by you everyday?

Can I even describe the magic of Disney? I think not. If you've been, you know. When I think about it it slips to the corners of my mind. The corners where I store things that are too good to be true. It is like that sweet that you hide from yourself and keep coming back to, only to say "not yet. Next time." I'm afraid to think too much about it because I'm afraid it will slip from my mind and the magic will disappear.

And yet I can't stop thinking about it. Of course I can't. I want to read about it and analyze it and sing Disney songs.

I'll admit, I was skeptical at first. I mean, how many times have I gone into something that people have raved about and been disappointed? Tons. So sometimes it's hard for me to believe that something can really be "as good as they say." And then we started off in Universal, and it was good and it was fun, but it wasn't magic. So I thought I had been right, that people had talked Disney up so much that I was going to be disappointed. But then we got to the Magic Kingdom. And there I found the magic I had been craving.

I feel, a lot of the time, that I am abnormal. I feel like I have the heart and spirit of a child while trying to live in an adult world. I'm responsible and I feel like I at least act like a grownup (mostly), but inside I sometimes live in this fantasy world. It's a hard place to be because these two aspects of my personality aren't really compatible. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Disney was a release for me. I could finally relax. It was a place where adults can live in a fantasy world too.

So, naturally, I didn't want to come back. It was super hard for me. I dreaded coming back like I've never dreaded anything before. Except possibly giving blood. That crap makes me want to vomit. I fought it and I cried. I tried to think of ways to stay and I refused to think about going home.

Obviously, I'm back now. It couldn't be helped. I have to be a grownup and deal with it. And it gets easier everyday.

Ok enough of that. Excuse me, I'm going to go listen to some Disney and eat chocolate.

Why I am blessed

So I just got back from Disney World. It was wonderful and magical and I am going to write a blog about it. I am going to write a blog that is full of happy things and fun. This is not that blog.

This blog is about the very end of my trip. This blog is about stress and sad things. But it will be ok. Read on.

On what was to be our last day in the Disney parks, Trey woke up feeling sick and with a high fever. After texting the people we were supposed to be staying the last two nights of our trip with, to cancel, I found out that she (who is a nurse) had some advice and also some tamiflu. Really, Trey probably should have gone to the doctor. I mean, this was looking like swine flu. SWINE FLU! In DISNEY WORLD. Boo. Did I mention that Trey had left his insurance card at home? Trey left his insurance card at home. I called a walk in clinic (this was Sunday by the way) and found out it was going to cost almost $300 for him to just see the doctor, and that wasn't including medicine.

So I did the only thing I really could do: I called the front desk and booked another night at the hotel and set off to drive an hour and a half away to get medicine from our friends. By myself. In a car that has been acting up. Did I mention that my car has been acting up? My car has been acting up. The clutch is going out and the steering wheel was shaking like it was having seizures.

Ok. So I drive out to my friends house to meet her and get the medicine. After a tour of her (very cute) house, and a chat, I set out to bring healing medicine to my husband, feeling very Balto. And I'm driving and I'm driving and I'm thinking, "almost home! And then this mess will be over!" And suddenly, my car jerks and makes this weird noise like I blew a tire. ( I know what this is like because I have blown a tire before. Not fun.) I was like 20 miles from my exit so I pull over to check all my tires. After deciding that everything looked peachy-keen-jelly-bean, I got back in my car and headed off again. A few more miles down the road my steering wheel really started freaking out. It felt like it was going to shake right off the dashboard. If felt like it was going to shake my arms right off. It felt like I was trying to steer a charging bull. And then my car made this terrifying sound and I knew something was really wrong. So I pulled back over and discovered I had a very flat, very busted front right tire. Bummer. No, bummer doesn't do it. Bigger than bummer. Lucky me, at that point I was only a mile from my exit. So I called my father-in-law to let him know. And then I started to try and change my tire.

Now it's not like I don't know how to change a tire. My dad made me change the tires on my mom's car in the driveway until I could do it myself. And it's a darn good thing he did because I have had to do it 3 times now. By myself. Ya. The first time my parents were in Canada and I was 18 years old on my way to pick up my brother from school. That time, my mom called my ex boyfriend to come and help me and there was NO WAY I was about to let that happen so I fixed that tire myself and had it done by the time he got there. Take that! The second time I had just moved to Alabama and no one would come and help me because everyone was too busy. So I changed that sucker myself in a dark high school parking lot. A cop did show up eventually. His contribution? He shined his search light on the tire to "help me see." For some reason helping the tiny 19 year old girl change her tire in creepy parking lot never occured to him as a way to help. Odd. And the last time was this time. And ya know? I could have done it, probably, if I could have just got those dern lug nuts off. Those lug nuts are killer I tell you.

So while I was jacking up the car I got bit by an ant on my hand. Now this wouldn't seem like such a big deal right? I mean, it was even a tiny baby ant! No biggie! Except that I am apparently allergic to ants and my hand swelled up right away. When it rains it pours, internets.

And not one person stopped to ask if I was ok or help me or anything. What the heck, Florida? I guess southern hospitality doesn't reach down into the panhandle.

Soon after all that nonsense my father in law, thankfully, showed up. After that it was simple to change out the tire and head back to the hotel. The next day brought a dip into the emergency fund for new tires and a long drive back to Atlanta with my sick husband. We even decided to stay an extra day in Atlanta for both of us to try and recover (Trey, physically and me, emotionally.)

Now I'm sure that it seems like my title doesn't fit this post at all. "Why I am blessed"? But didn't you see it?

First of all, hello! I didn't get sick! Even after being with Trey constantly over the past few weeks I somehow didn't get sick. In fact, no one else got sick which is especially good for his pregnant sister. Then, if my friends hadn't had that medicine we would have had to spend who knows how much to take Trey to the doctor and get him medicine, all without insurance.

And the tire? Well, it could have blown much farther away from help than it did. If Trey hadn't gotten sick and I hadn't had to have gone to get medicine we might never have known that the tire was bad until we were halfway back to Atlanta with no place to stay and no one to help. If we had been in Disney World by ourselves no one would have been able to come help me because Trey would have been stuck, sick, back at the hotel. If we hadn't saved up an emergency fund we might have had no money for that extra night in the hotel or new tires for the car. Oh and by the way? After that tire blew my steering wheel stopped shaking. Apparently that tire had been wanting to blow for a couple of weeks.

I can't even fathom how much worse it could have been. God took such, SUCH good care of us. I am so in awe of how much He cares about us and of how He works everything out. So am I blessed? Heck ya I am! And all that extra driving gave me some time to think and get my head in the right place.

So now I'm back to the daily grind. And I'm not going to lie and say that it is easy or that I want to be here or that I'm happy about it. I got my head in the right place. I didn't get a lobotomy. But what I will say is this: God is totally going to take care of me. I know He will and He already has. And that is more freeing than I can describe.

Hiatus

Bloggerworld:

I know I have been absent. I know I have issues. In fact, yesterday I wrote this very depressing and issue-filled post and then decided against posting it.

The facts are these:

1.) I am stressed out, even too stressed out to formulate thoughts coheisive enough to constitute a full blog post. I am actually too stressed out even to check twitter apparently and THAT, my friends, is a big deal in my world.

2.) Seeing as my brain is full right now, the only thoughts that would make it to paper, er...screen, are the ones coming from that which my brain is currently full of. And were I to write those thoughts? That would be bad news for me. I've heard the horror stories and I'm not ready to go there. Maybe someday I will come back and post about them but I'm protecting myself right now. The internet is public people! It's public!

3.) I am going to Disney World in 5 days! I have never been before. The sad thing is, I'm almost too stressed to be excited. I'm hoping the weekend will cure that particular ailment.

So, we come to this: The above things are blocking my writing flow right now and I've decided to take a break. A hiatus. It might be super short, it might be longer. I haven't decided yet. But here goes, I hope this time away will help me refocus and calm down.

So...see ya on the other side. Out.

My Day

*RINGRING!*
"Hello? No we don't carry that. I'm sorry. Try here?"

File, where's the file?

*RINGRING!*
"Yes we do. When do you need it? Here's our fax. What's that? I'll be looking. Ok, thank you!"

*click click.*
*scrollscrollscroll*
*typity typity type*

Where's the file? There's the file.
Need more paperwork.

*faxfaxfax*

*RINGRING!*
"Hello?...*click*

Dang telemarketers.

When am I going to find time to paint?
What was I working on again?
File, right that file.
When is lunch?

*tickticktick*

It's only 9:45?!

Insurance, insurance.

*typetypetype*
*scroll scroll*

Paper paper everywhere!

*faxing faxing*

Oh my eyes!

Gotta go to the grocery store after lunch.
I wonder what my husband is doing.
I wonder what it's like outside.
I wonder what it's like to not have a headache.

So tired.

*Filing filing*

*RINGRING!*
Oh not again.
"Uh huh, uh huh. Ok ok. Great. Yes. Ya. Ok. Ok. Uh huh, uh huh. ZZZZzzzz...O what? Yes, right. Uh huh. Got it. Great. Ok. Ok. Bye."

Blah blah blah.

*staple staple*
*faxfaxfax*
*scrollscrollscroll*
*click*
*typey typey type*

Sigh.

What time is it?
7 minutes till lunch!
Lunch!!!
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1....................

LUNCH!!!!

*shovelshovelschovel*
*chomp chomp*

*nnnaaaaappppp*

*YAAWWWNNN!!*

*streeeetchhh*

...

*RINGRING!!*

*shuffle shuffle*

"Hello? Uh...hello?"

*filing filing*

*type*type*type*

...

*silent silent*
*tick tock tick tock*

*stamp stamp*
*staple staple*

Insurance, insurance!

*RINGRING!!*
"Hello, yes. Right away...*RINGRING* Can you hold?"
"Hello? No I'm sorry we don't have tha...*RINGRING!* Just a minute."

Where is the file?

*fax fax fax*
*typing typing*

*silence silence*

*RINGRING!*
*RINGRING!*
*RINGRING!*
"Hello? Yes. I'm sorry. What? No. Ok. Yes. Yes. When? Tomorrow? Great. Ok."

What time is it?
2 more hours?!
How long have I been here?
Sigh.

*type type type*
*scroll scroll*
*click click*click* *click*
*tap tap tap*
*scribble scribble*
*faxing faxing*

*RINGRING!*
Seriously?
"Hello? Yes. Ok. No. Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh. Great. Ok ok. Ok. Yup. Ok. Great. Ok. Good. Ya. Yes. Nope. Yes. Uh huh. Uh huh. Mmhmm. Mmhmm. Ok. Ok great. Ya. Ok. Ok. Ok. Bye."

Sheesh.

*typing typing*

*silence*

How long have I been here?
2 more hours?!
What?!
I wonder what the traffic will be like on the way home.
I can't wait to work out tomorrow.
Why does my head still hurt?
I think my computer might be frying my brain through my eyes.
Sigh.

*filing filing*
*type type type*
*tick tock tick tock*
sigh


Now where did I put that file?

Twitter-esque

This made me laugh.

In which I steadily change topics throughout the whole post while not changing topics at all

I wrote a really lame post today. I had what I *thought* was a great idea and then I couldn't flesh it out. But I wrote it anyway. And it was awful. I almost want to post it but it's just too embarrassing. Maybe I'll try again another time.

My brain feels fuzzy today. Like when a sneeze is stuck. Or like someone erased the edges of my mind. Yesterday I was all excited, looking up publishing tips. Sigh. Now I can barely look at my computer screen without going cross-eyed.

I'm having trouble focusing on any one thought for any period of time. I keep getting distracted and finding myself staring at nothing, thinking about nothing.

I feel like I'm back in that lost place. The sad thing is, the lost place is becoming familiar to me. And that is either ironic or just plain wrong. The place where I feel the most unstable is not a place that I should keep coming back to. I think part of the problem is that there just seems to be too many possibilities, to many paths. And yet, most of those paths (and usually the good ones) look unatainable.

I find myself having the same problem in my life as I do in my writing: just as soon as I get focused on an idea, a thought, it seems like the rest drops of the back. And I'm left grasping at partial ideas, partial thoughts, desperately trying to see the rest. It's like trying to remember the words to a song when they're just on the tip of your tounge and you can almost...almost...but not quite. I wish I could look up the lyrics to my life on the internet.

I'm not even sure my life song would have lyrics. Sometimes I think it would more like an orchestra. Unfortunatly my orchestra seems to not be able to get it together. Everyone knows that an orchestra that plays in harmony is beautiful, but one that is disorganized is a disaster. Lucky me, mine seems to be stuck in the latter.

Of course, I can't see the whole picture. I could have this all totally wrong. Maybe these bits and peices, my day to day life, are only making noise. Maybe someday when I look back, all those noises put together will make beautiful music. I hope so.

Painting

It's been awhile since I've written. I know.

We finally moved into our new offices at work and got everything settled. We didn't, however, actaully get the internet until last Friday. No internet= no actual work at this job since all our information is online. Tough. Luckily, we found out that the offices need to be painted. Enter painting supplies and paiting clothes, donned by three amateur non-painters, and you have a party! Or a mess. Depends on how you look at it. Either way, the time goes by much faster than, say, if we were sitting at our desks staring at our internet-less computers.

So for the last two days I've been cutting in (mostly) and rolling walls (less-mostly). It has actually been pretty fun. I feel like it gives me the chance to think and to do something besides sit on my behind. I like the change.

Did I mention that this office building is huge? I'm pretty sure it's at least twice, if not three times, as big as our old office building. I really like it. My office is nice and spacious and made even more so by the fact that I don't have to have a bunch of stuff crammed in here since we HAVE SO MUCH SPACE! Seriously, we have room enough for everything to have it's own place. So refreshing!

The downside is that it now takes me twice as long to get to work and even longer to get home. I guess I was spoiled. When I was in high school I used to have to drive thirty minutes to and from school every day. And then I got a job that was 45 minutes away. Since then it's been a long time since I've had to drive more than 20 minutes on a regular basis. Now I'm driving 30 minutes to and from work everyday again. Boo. And the REALLY sad part? It shouldn't take that long. It's the dang-ol' traffic that's killing me. And the worst part of THAT is? I have a manual, which I usually love but I do not love in traffic. Sigh. Am I being petty? Am I complaining when I am really very blessed. Probably. No, actually, definitely yes. So I digress, time to get back to painting. Gotta make the time fly!

Lazy

It's been awhile, hasn't it? I'm sorry I've been MIA. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. We've been moving offices at my job and I know that has contributed to my absence. Other than that? I can't say. I don't have a good excuse. Laziness? Exhaustion? Apathy? Pick one. I don't know what's up but I am NOT lovin it, McDonald's, I am not lovin it.

I'm pretty sure I have a disorder. I would like to go ahead and name it now: I'm calling it sleepaholism. I am addicted to sleeping. I don't know why, but it's like it's impossible for me to drag myself from bed in the morning any earlier than is ABSO-LUTELY NECESSARY. "It's becoming a problem," says my waistline that hasn't been to the gym. "It's becoming a problem," says my hair that hasn't been brushed in days. "It's becoming a problem," says my attitde, that is barely above conciousness.

I've been telling myself that things will change once we get in the new building. I've got myself convinced that once I get in a new routine that I'll get it together, that I'm just waiting until the move, then I'll get back in shape. Sigh, I'm starting to wonder if it's all just excuses. If really I have no motivation, no desire to better myself. That laziness has finally overtaken me. No! Please no!

And as this laziness enters, my creativity seems to slip out the back door. It's like it sees that Lazy coming in the front and bolts for more fertile minds in which to plant its seeds. You are mine, Creativity! Do not abandon me now!

It's not that I don't have ideas. I have plenty of ideas, tons of ideas, a plethora of ideas. But single ideas? They might make good Twitter posts but they don't make good blogs, good stories, or good books. These ideas, they come to me in little bursts, but I can't seem to put them together to make more than just that, little ideas. So I write them down, I keep track. I guess I'm hoping that one day they will all fit together and all these little ideas will make one big story. The story that changes my life. Until then, well, I'll keep writing them down. I'll keep thinking. I'll keep waiting, till the fire to write consumes me again. When I get in that fire nothing stands in my way. I burn and burn and burn, all in my path.

Now excuse me, I can feel a sugar rush from my smoothie from lunch taking over. I must go.

More writers block

Gotta get some creative juices flowin up in here.

We found out this past Monday that we are (*finally*) moving our offices downtown. The catch? (Yes there is always a catch at this job.) We have to be moved by next Monday. Hello crazy moving week! We have got to get all our equipment/files/furniture/crap moved in the next couple of days. To add to that, a lot of our smaller equipment, that we no longer are going to be dealing in, is being shipped to our main store an hour away. And that shipping to the other store thing? That doesn't just involve packing stuff up and sending it. It also involves inventory-ing all the equipment, which is time consuming and gross considering that much of this stuff has been sitting here for months (years?) gathering dust and sloughed off old people skin cells. Ew.

So that's why I haven't been writing. I write best when I am either 1) bored to tears and, therefore, able to do a lot of day dreaming/getting inspiration from other blogs or 2) emotionally disturbed.

The thing is, I feel like I want to write, so bad, but I don't know what I want to write. I just have the itch to write. Is that writers block? Because I haven't determinded in my head if writers block is actually knowing what you want to write and just not being able to get it out or if it's what I'm dealing with. Because I am also concerned that what I'm actually dealing with is less "writers block" and more "not actually being a writer." Because how can you be a writer if you have nothing to write about? Hmmm.

So now I am not only dealing with possible writers block and lack of free time, but also with an identity crisis. Please allow your thoughts to be with me in this trying time. Also, if your thoughts are creative ideas for me to write, I could use those too.