what i would give

for an experience like this

i want to empty my mind. just get rid of all of the fear, and doubt, and insecurities....

i want to invite the universe to fill that empty space
with whatever if feels would be the most helpful to the
world around me (and to my own mental health)

i want to make myself available to being uncomfortable

i'm feeling really alone tonight...

so fresh and so clean C:

guess who is employed C:

that's right.

me!

i am officially a receptionist for a lawyer

i'm feelin' awesome

take that 2011!

today my car broke down.

but i'm not going to think about it.
i'm not going to dwell on that, or any of the other awful things that have happened this year.

tonight, i'm going to take a bath. and watch scrubs. and put a mud mask on my face

and i will play with my cat


and i will be happy

yes please?

Super-cat

My cat just saved my life.

Technically, my mom did too, but right now, i think i'm more impressed with the cat...

Tonight, I had decided that I was going to clean under my bed. Which is a task that I resign myself to every few weeks or so. I like for things to be neat and tidy. So I was pulling out the various suitcases and books, and other objects that had somehow managed to lodge themselves underneath my mattress. Just as I was reaching to pull out a bicycle shoe I saw it. It was skittering across the carpet poised and ready to strike.

Spider.

I quickly withdrew my hand and shut my eyes, praying that it wouldn't be there when I opened them again. But no! it was there! Watching me as I tried to regain my composure! I scooted backwards a ways in order to formulate some sort of plan. Then, as if he knew I was in mortal danger, my cat comes sauntering by my bedroom door. I coerced him into coming closer and pointed him in the direction of my nemesis. Immediately he attacked! Batting with his clawless feet, forcing the monster to retreat into the deepest corners of the underworld. (By underworld, I mean under my bed). I started to panic, what if my cat gave up the chase! What if the spider would lie in wait, planning his revenge? How would I sleep knowing that at any moment he could make his move?

At this point, my mom entered the room and got down on the floor to watch the fight.

I was trying to support my dear furry friend, removing obstacles where the menace could hide. I used my trusty hanger to pull old handbags from the corner, knowing that he would appreciate the advantage.

My mom suggested that I should get a flashlight so that we could see who was winning.

Somehow that crafty spider managed to hide himself so well that neither me or my cat could discover his sinister location. But the cat did not give up the chase! He kept at it and spun himself in circles awaiting to see if the spider would resurface. And indeed he did. The cat managed to chase him into the light. My mother, knowing my paralyzing fear, took it upon herself to remove the spider from my presence.

We shall raise our feline friend on our shoulders for this glorious victory! He who refused to give up, even when circumstances looked so bleak, he shall be rewarded for his service.

Even now, he is purring contentedly underneath my bed. Such bravery... I am proud.

Uhm... try rephrasing that.

Recently, an old boyfriend of mine contacted me on Facebook. Not that this is a big deal, or that it doesn't happen to quite a few people... but this particular ex was not very nice to me. Anyway, long story short, I didn't expect to ever hear from or talk to him again.
After a few weeks of being "friends" he sent me a message. So I sent one back, and he replied. There is nothing substantial in these messages at all. It pretty much consists of -
"Hey, what's up?"
"Nothing, what's up with you?"
But with the added bonus of the awkwardness that comes from people who haven't spoken in a long time.

Anyway in the reply message that he sent me, he said, " and yeah, you're looking all different and beautiful lol".
Now, the thing is, I'm not sure how I am supposed to take this. Is it really just a happy message between two people where one is commenting on the changed looks of the other? Is he trying to put the moves on me? Did he put the "lol" in there to make it seem like it wasn't any comment worth taking seriously? Who knows... but I'll tell you how I interpreted that comment.

Everyone goes through an awkward phase right? And mind just so happened to have happened at the time when I knew this kid. I was kind of chubby and awkward. A little shy... but of course massively self-conscious. I try not to think about this phase of my life. It isn't healthy to dwell on it.

If he had said, "You look different". I probably wouldn't have minded, because it's true. I do look different. So does he. That is just a fact.
If he had said, "You are looking beautiful". I probably would have been a little weirded out. I'm not sure if I would have thought much about it. I might have thought something like, oh he is just trying to be a nice guy, isn't that nice.
But to put the two together, especially the one in front of the other... It kind of makes it seem like he thought I was ugly. Or at least a little unfortunate looking. And then to have the "lol" thrown in there. Like the whole thing is one of those comments people make when whoever they are talking with is in on the same joke as they are. Like, "oh we both know how you used to look, haha, it is so great that you look different now, 'cause man you were kind of a train wreck before, hahahaha..."
Even if it's true, that doesn't make it fun to hear other people say it.

Am I thinking about this too much? Probably.... It just bothered me is all...

What do you think?

For crying out loud

All I am asking for is a one piece swim suit, that doesn't make me look like a slut, or really fat. Is that too much? Is that not possible? I don't think that I have ever found a bathing suit that I felt good in. Two years ago I bought my first two piece, and I never wore it, because it was too revealing. Before that all I wore were one pieces that my mom bought me in the women's section at the department store. They never really looked right because I wasn't old enough for them. The one's with the little skirts are not cool.
I don't want to look middle aged. I don't want to look like a sack of potatoes. And I don't want to look like a 5 year old. Where is the balance people?

christian music?

I found this article today, and I really agreed with what he said. It makes quite a bit of sense. Even though I don't take part in the "Christian Music Scene" anymore, I did for a really long time. And I was always struck by how annoying and repetitive it must be to write songs about the same subject over and over again. It makes you so limited. Like if a christian artist writes or sings about any subject other than god, they must not really be a christian.
Oh you wrote about your relationship? Wrong.
You wrote about buying a toaster? Terrible.
Why are you singing about flowers and sunshine? That's not okay.
I still find value in christian music. I guess I should say, I find value in the music that I grew up listening to. But it has nothing to do with the religious aspect of it. Jars of Clay will forever be one of my favorite bands. I associate them with some really important events.
My family was kind of pseudo-strict about the music that my brother and I listened to when we were younger. They pretty much said that we could listen to whatever we want as long as the bands were "Christian". So I didn't get to listen to all of the boy bands of the 90s even though I drooled over pictures of them in magazines. My friends got to listen to whatever they wanted and I was so jealous. I remember I went to a birthday party when I was 10, and the girl got the Shakira CD as a present. She played it on repeat for the whole rest of the day and I felt so guilty because I "wasn't allowed" to hear it. Of course I didn't say anything to her mom because nothing would have happened. She probably would have looked at me like, "what do you mean you're not allowed, that's silly". Of course as I got older, I listened to whatever I wanted. Especially when I went to BMA. Then I didn't have any restrictions. And I was quickly neck deep in music. I wasn't really very picky about my music back then. It was so different, like i was listening to music for the first time.
My dad had one of those subscriptions to the christian music magazine. Like the scholastic magazine for music. There were tons of CD's in there, and you could get 5 for $20. So every month or so when he got it, my brother and I would look over what was available and circle the one's we wanted. Then like two weeks later, we would have all of this new music to listen to. I really loved Plus One and Stacie Orrico. She was actually the first person I saw in concert. By "in concert" I mean, she was singing at the mall, and was an hour and a half late. She sang for 30 minutes.
The first CD that I bought that wasn't christian was Damien Rice's 9. I got it at circuit city, and I was SO excited. I played it really loud in my room (at home) but I had a panic moment when he started screaming "FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU" on one of the songs. I was rearranging my walls at the time, and I had to jump off of my desk and turn the volume down so that no one would hear it.
Of course I went through those phases where I would go through my music library and delete the music that I thought wasn't bringing me close to god. There was a point when I wouldn't have songs on my computer if they had curse words in them. It never lasted for very long, there was always a way to justify getting it back. Oh we are such silly people...
I guess I still try to be selective about the music that I listen to. I have music that I listen to specifically when I'm sad, or when I'm happy. But I try not to have music that makes me feel bad about myself. I try not to keep music around if it makes me feel angry, or scared.
I think it's good to have standards. Especially about the things that have an influence over you. I do my best. I've come a long way though. And I bet that I'll change as I get older. But this is how it is right now.

still moving on.

Tomorrow will mark the first week without Smudge. And I'm not going to lie, it has been really hard. The first three nights I cried myself to sleep. Things have been coming together though. It's been getting better. I still look for him in his favorite places. He used to follow me around when I made myself something to eat, and I would put my plate on the floor so he could lick it. I still put my plate on the floor every time I eat (unless I don't have a plate). He was like a family member, and I miss him. But I need to keep reminding myself that life goes on. We have other members of our family that need care and attention. I need to recognize that, and move on.

is it just me?

or does this mud mask actually improve my face? i think it really does. anywho, i've been taking pictures with my photobooth for the past few weeks. so i thought i would share some. actually, i think that all of these were in the past week... so maybe not as exciting. but here we go anyway!




my little sister has a friend named heather, this is her jacket. i put it on. jealous?

also, i'm pretty sure that i want to go to a burlesque show...