I have nothing in particular to say, and will therefore compose yet another list

This week feels like a never-ending Monday so far. Except for the hilarious hour and a half spent watching "The Dinner Game" with Katie's French Club (I highly recommend it. The movie. Not the game.), I spent the whole day getting ready for class, doing homework, going to class, and studying for a test. Oh and then I ate precisely 3 otter pops (green, red, blue, in that order. In case you were randomly curious.) at La Casa, and spilled precisely 2 of them on my jeans.


Guess what else? I have an assignment due in the morning for which I have only a heading and title.

Blogging/writing is such a guilty pleasure. How come it is all I want to do when I have so much else to get done?

Tomorrow will be...
...exciting. My standard (dance) shoes came in the mail and I get to dance in them for the first time tomorrow!
...3 days before my birthday.
...hump day :) (halfway done with the week!)
...fun? hopefully?
...the day before Britt comes into town.
...a day to learn how to strum on the guitar? {update on this post: I can now decently play a few songs, but only with chords splattered intermittently throughout.}
...a day to brown bag it? (or more accurately, red bag it. I just bought a lunchbag for the lovely price of $2.99)
...a day for confidence, because I can always use a little extra ummph (does anyone actually know how to spell "ummph"?)

That's all for now.

Goodnight world.

image via vi.sualize.us


To Do:

-read 4 New York Times front pages and take a quiz before midnight tonight.
-Try not to stress about all that I have to do tonight/this week.
-finish watching "Doubt" with Katie.
-read many, many articles about early American Christianity and respond.
-FIND A JOB (preferably, that does not involve food unless tips are also involved)
-sleep, eventually.
-do my foxtrot critique for my dance class.
-keep practicing how to not stink at using computers.
-finish reading Ch. 5 and study for Advertising; Test #1: Thursday.
-practice the few chords I know on the guitar.
-eat food.
-go to many, many hours of review sessions/study groups/team meetings for Advertising BEFORE Thursday.

...and yes, I'm blogging. Oh boy. It's gonna be an interesting week.


I'll be true, I'll be useful...I'll be yours, my dear.


I need you to know that I'm really not that needy. I think that some of these little letters only tell you what I want you to be and do and say.

This one is different. This one is about what I will be and do and say. This one is for you, from me. From the me that will someday be the girl you want to spend forever with.

For you, my dear:

I won't always be the perfect woman, but I will always be your imperfect woman.
I will say the wrong thing sometimes, maybe a lot of times; but I promise to apologize. And I'll try to be quick about it, because I detest going to bed angry.

In this letter, I asked you to fight for me and to never give up; I promise to never give up on you, and to fight for us.
Because I've never been much of a quitter.

Sometimes I'll be stubborn. And cry about nothing, or everything. And I'll want to be alone. And sometimes when I tell you I want to be alone, what I need the most is for you to take me in your arms and never let go.

{But I'm getting sidetracked, because this letter isn't about me; it's about you.}

What I'm really trying to say is that I promise to love you, and to love loving you.
Even when your hands aren't as steady as they once were, and mine are a little cracked and wrinkled.

Let's be the ones that grow older, but never grow out of the newlywed stage.

Because as scary as it is for me, I will give you my heart. More importantly, I will want to. The whole messy, fickle, ridiculous thing. All I ask is that you take it and never try to give it back. Because in this game of love, I play for keeps.

image via le love

*Dashboard never fails me. Their lyrics are the voice of my heart so often it's almost frightening.


Am, Em, C, and the D-A-G...

...that's what I've got so far.

{On another note:} Today I let myself daydream a little bit. About life and love and what may or may not be. But it was the good kind of daydreaming, the kind where you still feel content with the way life is right now, even if it's not as much fun as the fantasy. It's the kind of thinking that makes me believe in my dreams. And believe that I deserve to have them come true someday; that I'm enough to make them real.

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
-Eleanor Roosevelt, (such an articulate lady)

image via vi.sualize.us

{side note}: this is currently hanging on my wall. in poster form. and I absolutely love it.


the tips of my fingers are a little bit tender.

I'm starting a new adventure.
And I'm allowing myself to be hopeful.
And not allowing myself to be lazy.
And it feels really good.

Can you guess what it is?

image via this


"I think that I think too hard, and don't give enough credit to my heart"*

Sometimes someone else composes the music of my heart better than I can, at least right now. I love Holly Brook's entire album, Like Blood Like Honey, but especially the song Curious.

Someone tell me what to do
I feel like I must be a fool
For ending up right back at the start
You know I've tried to do my best
But maybe we weren't meant to strike gold
Will I learn to let go
Give into love and listen to my soul?

I'm so...curious to know
And there are too many unanswered questions

like you

image via deviant art


There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind*


I want you to disagree with me, sometimes.
Not all of the time, because that would be annoying.
But if you never have an opinion of your own, that's kind of bothersome.
It's okay to tell me that you like the other shirt better. It's okay to say you prefer Italian over Chinese food. It's okay to enlighten me on a subject you know more about; in fact, please do.

And I need you to "wear the pants," as they say.
I don't want them.
I've never been that girl.
I've always been the easygoing, it's-okay-if-we-do-it-your-way-this-time kind of girl.

Actually, I won't be surprised if your strong opinions and confidence (note: confidence, not arrogance) is one of the first things that attracts me to you. The way that you'll kiss me without asking. The easy and natural silences we'll have, coupled with the passionate discussions about life and all that matters to us. The way you'll show respect to everyone, not just me.

I hope this doesn't seem like too large a request, or too tricky a balance to find: between confidence and consideration of others.

My reasoning is this: I have the feeling I'm an "opposites attract" kind of girl. I'll need to feed off of your confidence, every now and then, because mine has never been too stable.

image via google images

*I do hope you've read The Great Gatsby, and that you understand that being suave is never out of style. Also, you could be Tom, but I will never be Daisy. Ever.


fun fun fun

The lovely Jayne, of the Little Passenger has nominated me for a Kreativ Blogger award. I feel so honored and loved. I know I've mentioned her blog on here before, but really, if you haven't moseyed (sp?) on over there yet....do it!

According to the rules, I must:
1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might not know.
5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.

My seven things:

1) My handwriting changes all the time, depending on my mood, but it is consistently rather large and generally kind of sloppy.

2) I was in my first car wreck when I was about 7. I was driving. The car: a pink Barbie Jeep, (not mine, but the Christmas present I asked for every year after that.) My friend let me drive, and I got us stuck in a ditch. No joke, we had to get out and push. Somehow I feel that this was a defining moment in my life and the formation of who I am: I stink at driving, and I really don't like being in charge.

3) My dream job is a tie between: an actress or a T-shirt designer.

4) I've never cared too much about flowers. I mean, I think they are pretty and all, but I don't dream of a guy showing up on my doorstep with a dozen red roses. When people say "ooh, smell these! Don't they smell so good?," I generally smell and say yes, purely out of courtesy. I actually think flowers just smell....like flowers, and can't really tell the difference. Chocolate, however, is always welcome.

5) I actually like filling out forms. Especially handwritten ones, like at the doctor's office. I don't know why, I just do.

6) In kindergarten, I had a purple sweatshirt with Barney on it. One day, some little female twerp told me Barney was stupid and for babies. I never wore it again. Secretly, I still think Barney is not stupid.

7) The first music group I search for on someone's Ipod is usually Three Days Grace. The first band that comes to mind when people ask what I want to hear is Third Eye Blind. And my favorite number is 3.

And now I nominate....

Amanda & Dave from a liberation broadcast
E from all about the wordplay
BigEyes from BigEyes in a small World
Melissa from Operation Nice
Britt from No One Can Remember the End
Colby Ranae from Pray Hard. Live Easy.
Franziska from The Catcher in the Rye

happy blogging!


"The heart has reasons that reason does not understand" --Jacques Benigne Bossuel

Let's strip down.
Take it all off.
The makeup, the fake smile, the layers of clothes.
Or better, the things we make up, the false assumptions about you and me and us, and the layers of padding we smother our hearts with.

Let's really see each other.
Let's share our imperfection and maybe find affection.
You'll admire my blemishes, and I'll kiss your scars.
Let's get down to who we are. And forget about who we aren't.

Being perfect would be so boring.
Flaws make life interesting.
Let's strip down to just our two hearts, a little broken but still beating.
And see if we can't find something to talk about.

And maybe even fall in love.
Because all the garbage you've been told to think about me is gone.
You can see my naked heart for what it really is; for who I really am.

Let's strip down to two hearts, and find a common rhythm.
And maybe we will see that we really aren't that different after all.
Let's not be afraid to be real.
Let's not be afraid to feel.

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." -Marilyn Monroe

image via this


Take your pick.

Ballroom dance is sort of like:

a) an abusive boyfriend that I love too much to leave.
b)Edward Cullen--perfect, enough that I never feel quite worthy of it.
c) the carrot in front of the horse--just tempting enough to make me look like an idiot chasing it.

And now, cast your vote...

I should now spend my "spare" time:
a) learning to play the guitar.
b) focusing solely on my schoolwork
c) dancing on my own, in preparation for another game of "who's good enough for Gold Latin?"
d) all of the above? would I die from that?

Ok. I'm done wallowing. I'm so moving on. Honest.

Also. I need to go job-hunting tomorrow. Ugh.


Food for Naught

Tonight I had resentment and regret for dinner,
With a side of self pity and a big glass of "woe is me."
The pièce de résistance was a whopping slice of humble pie, for dessert, of course.
I crunched and chewed and chomped until there was nothing left.
And then vomited my frustrations out of my timid brown eyes.

And now I have that slightly sick feeling of doubt, self doubt.
And wondering where and how to begin again.

I'm thinking about brewing some hope for tomorrow,
If my stomach is settled by then.
But it's kind of temperamental at the moment.

image via deviantart