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Showing posts from 2012

headlamps & [almost] secret assignments

Headlamps; good for finding things, like a 1/1000 puzzle piece under the pub table (almost left it behind. disaster averted.). It only slightly tousles the hair, and really only enough to give it a bit more body, which is always a plus in my book. Big = better. It seems to fit my style in a way it doesn't fit the styles of those who are expected to have big hair (hello, Texans). "Big" means "wild" when it comes to hair, and I think that description is proper for me. Headlamps are also good for reading on nightly road trips, when one is reading and wishes not to disturb sleeping travelling buddies. They're so much more mobile than those flimsy book light clips that one must tediously readjust with every page turned. Not the case with a headlamp. Your light moves with your head, so your line of vision is consistently illuminated. I'm all about efficiency. I've given myself a secret [for now] task in lieu of New Year's Resolutions. It requires

the problem of feeling things

The places you never thought you'd go. The thoughts you never thought you'd think. You might go there. You might think something strange and illuminating. I have a habit of examining the ends of my hair with harsh scrutiny whenever I feel mentally and/or emotionally and/or creatively overwhelmed. "Is that a split end? Not anymore. Because I am boss at removing split ends. I am a split-end master." If there's only one thing I understand about my life, it is how to deal with my hair. And then I feel in control. The beauty of being aware of one's perma-embedded artistry is the ability to see and feel and hear so many things at one time. Even in a silent room, in your apartment, by yourself. The dilemma with this quality is that things rarely get sufficient attention individually, thus disabling them from reaching completion. This happens in an alarming percentage of my endeavors. For instance, currently:    4. The song playing overhead is intriguing me.

how to be an invalid [successfully].

-- Rules of Invalidity -- i) Immediately upon determining that something foul has entered your system, lie down. You will not regret taking it easy at the onset of your illness. Exertion of energy can prolong your predicament by a great deal. ii) As soon as possible, enlist the assistance of someone you trust with your life in order to obtain all necessary remedies and aids, as you will not want to be driving all over town trying to pick them up yourself, hurrying so as to make it home in the shortest amount of time possible, to allow for the most amount of time to rest, which only ends up requiring you to run or walk hastily through aisles and parking lots, thereby exerting more energy than is prudent for one in your condition, and possibly even making your symptoms worse.  iii) Guilt and shame (alternately, or simultaneously) the above individual to remain with you for the duration of your illness because you might die, after all, and we wouldn't want you dying alon

100.5 internal temp & roasting cabbage

You learn things about yourself when you're under house arrest due to an incessant fever.      1) You learn how much you like sleeping. In my case, I realized that if I'm not sleepy, it's near impossible to make myself fall asleep. This is a conundrum when all of the strolling in the sunshine I wanted to do was out of the question, since the general understanding was that the less physical energy exerted, the better. I read a lot of articles instead.      2) You learn to appreciate how substantial food is. Most people eat too much. Multiple studies have shown it. I've found it out by ordering one meal at a restaurant, splitting it with my fiance, and still feeling stuffed. When you're sick, food counts. Little bites, little sips. Flavor is shocking.      3) You learn to appreciate the importance of an aesthetically pleasing home. It has been a hard-sought goal to get rid of anything in my apartment that is not either a) highly functional or b) incredibly beauti

full summer, full heart

green tea ice cream - films at the art museum - night walks at the lake - luncheoning on memorial grounds - holding hands - baseball caps and overalls - makeshift beds and makeshift bathrooms - dewy grass - impromptu demo construction projects - venison and smoked pork with extended family - blackberry wine in virginia - scaffolding and historic architecture - MANCAKES - antique-shoppe-ing - free sushi rolls - solo dates - unexpected overnight stays - learning laughter's power - beach-marching in jeans and a grey cotton sweater - gritty, sweaty manual labour - the darjeeling limited / amelie / midnight in paris / girl with a pearl earring / west side story / safety not guaranteed - derek webb / marina & the diamonds / bailiff / jars of clay / amanda palmer / songs for water / kopecky family band / the vespers / the civil wars - moment-to-moment living - cooking for the beauty of it - uncanny "coincidences" - best year

sporadicalness

New favorite nail polish color: think of the deepest, darkest ocean you can. It’s that color. A blackish green-blue that just shines. New York City is bustling, humming, buzzing, whirring, vibrating, dancing. More on that later. People shouldn't fight about petty issues that miss the point altogether and waste everyone's time that could be much more effectively spent, if folks would set their minds to it with a little research and elbow grease. In other news: LONDON 2012. I think I'm rescheduling my British trek for sometime post-Olympia.  And now...down to the Deep South. God, life is beautiful.

"danger". a comfortable excuse.

Part of me is re-thinking my decision to visit London and Dublin this year.  I'm not sure if I feel rushed/forced by my own critical expectations, or if I just don't have enough money this year.  Sure, I have enough to purchase a ticket, secure my lodging, and find sustenance.  But I just don't know if I can go it alone.  Flying out of the country alone is one thing.  Fine.  Flying out alone and staying out alone for a full fifteen days is an entirely different thing altogether.  This isn't Mexico we're talking.  Mexico would be a breeze.  I know how to dodge conniving taxi drivers.  I can place an order with ease, even requesting extra cream, or 'no onions, please'.  I can haggle my way to an appropriately-priced wooden letter-opener.  But they speak English in that part of Europe, and that can be a tad more difficult to navigate, conversation-wise.  Deeper things can be said in one's own heart-language and, as a matter of course, deeper things can be

the aviation, an indian gardeness, and two big dogs

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French melodies from Camille wafting down the freeway. Took a walk through my neighborhood late this morning and met a lovely Indian gardeness named Sicily.  I'd often seen her peacock-shaped pine bush and lovely tomato plants while strolling past and had never had the honor of meeting the person responsible until today.  She showed us her "yasmine" plant that was just budding and would be a powerfully fragrant blossomer tomorrow.  Sicily and Zacharias (her husband) are in their 49th year of marriage. Sicily informed me that there is a duplex next door to her that is being renovated, and will need a new tenant at the time of its completion.  Upon inquiring inside, I came to discover that the owning couple - who are also the renovators - are people I'm already acquainted with, thanks to a community-group we attended together once or thrice about a year ago.  They are lovely people, and I'm very excited about the prospect of renting from them.  They'd live

cocktails, oh joy!

This evening finds me reading Milton Crawford's The Hungoevr Cookbook .  "I was left in no doubt about the severity of the hangover when a cat stamped into the room." - P.G. Wodehouse.  Cardamom Porridge with Spicy Apple Sauce.  How painfully lovely hangovers could be... On the note of alcoholic beverages, I was informed of / invited to a cocktail festival in the Paris of the Plains.  Late August.  Booking my calendar.  Perhaps a train trek?  Perhaps. Caffe breve in hand.  Bed calling to me.  Paradoxical nothingness.   I need to write .

hospitality + local brews + striped shirts. a combination of days.

Nuts and Dunkin’ Donuts coffee for breakfast.  Dark Roast. The cot was an unexpectedly wise purchase, and has come in handy more than a few times.  I enjoy having a guest stay over on occasion. You never quite know what you're going to get on the phone at the office.  Crazy week.  A firm client said we should have lunch sometime, his reasoning being that we speak on the phone so much.  (He means how I transfer him to his attorney so much.)  Something delightful and subtly challenging about requiring so little as an excuse for a real person-to-person visit. There’s a little big joint on the corner of Sheridan and Oklahoma Avenue called  Bricktown Brewery .  I went there yesterday with my fiancé for lunch (there are so many bar scenes in my own backyard that I have yet to experience) out of pure curiosity.  Buck’s Bourbon Burger and a sample sip of Blueberry Ale.  Not even joking.  Best.   I met a  high school friend of my Lover's with his bride-to-be  today, o

Tammy Lucille Buhler

Mother, daughter, sister (twin).  Aunt.  My aunt Tammy. April 30th she passed.  I have remained in shock for quite some time.  This was completely unexpected. I traveled to Kansas for the funeral/memorial.  Her son (my cousin), Trenton, was there; I embraced him with such a severe lack of words.  Nothing but tears, really.  I met his wife, Jolene, of 8 months for the first time.  Sweet, sweet girl. Grandma, Grandpa, aunt Terry (Tammy's twin), uncle Donald, Dad, uncle Curtis, aunt LaJean.  Many new relationships, many steadfast couples.  Cousins are so tall these days. Slightly awkward, not knowing how to make light-hearted "how are yous" and "what's keeping you busy latelys".  The see-saw decisiveness between consolation and distraction...  There should be cue cards for these kinds of things.  What is there to say that hasn't been already said, anyway?  I know you need to process this; I know you need to get your mind off of this procession.  &quo

self-sustainability goals, cocktails, & brevity of life

Daydreaming today.  I can’t keep my mind on my work.  Maybe it’s because I don’t care about my work today.  Today, the pre-programmed course in front of me just seems…unfit.  Could be my Sagittarian way, you know...always flitting about, here then there, then here again, then far out of sight.  The mere potentiality that  this  is what I must do for the rest of my youth because  this  is what pays the bills and  this  is what pays for what I  want  to do…is horrifying and deeply depressing.  Must I slave away and restrain everything inside me for the chance at one tiny grain of Dublin, a Liverpool crumb, a breath of Amsterdam?  Even then, I am only allowed to stay for 2 weeks, because they need me here, in  this .  I’m [the best receptionist we’ve ever had].  I’m [a breath of fresh air].  I [put people in a good mood].  I’m [so popular]. I’m making goals, now.  Real ones.  I must reach and maintain complete and, yes, even utter self-sustainability.  More languages, portable skil

good times on the friday before last

Lover took me greenhouse browsing.  We kissed in the tiny rock cove that was anything but hidden.  We touched cacti.  We saw the governor.  We climbed.  We smelled.  We smelled a LOT of things.  Night time is a brilliant time to see the Crystal Bridge at the Myriad Gardens, if you can ever catch them when they're open that late. Work is so often at the forefront of our lives that it's often difficult to take an evening and not speak a word of it, speaking instead of beauty, of the varieties of people we watch, of traveling, of God, and of fine wines.  We're improving at this.  Friday showed it. Don't waste your time on anyone who has poor taste in entertainment, ladies and gents.  Be that literature, film, theatre plays, music, cuisine, alcohol, cigars, or whatnot.  Life is too short.

revelries on the saturday before last

Breaching futile workplace boundaries.  Devin invited us to come out to see his band on Saturday night.  Soliciting fandom from your customers, now are you, Sir Barista?  Glad you did.  VZD's.  11pm. There was a fantastical 1.5-seconds-to-go shot by KD for the Thunder win.  There was much thunder and rain outside.  There was a dancing astronaut.  There was a one-and-a-half pint jug of Red Stripe (a Jamaican lager, for those not in the know).  There was more dancing.  There was the precautionary removal of 4" suede wedges.  There was a mid-aged woman whose dancing prime must have been in the seventies, but somehow she'd managed to bring it with her all the way to 2012.  There was music that made you laugh and head bang at the same time.  There was Dr. Pants. I'd gone shopping that day and had come back with: 1. a little black dress that twirls like you wouldn't believe 2. a navy & white striped sailor tank 3. a sturdy/soft pink oxford shirt from J. Crew

help seen is help indeed, but if not seen, no matter.

Do you ever find that there's only a microscopic line between        a) helping to solve a problem, and        b) harboring and nurturing its continuance? I can't even wrap my mind around how two objectives, so seemingly starkly-contrasted, could be so easily confused for each other.  "The heart motive is what really counts."  The heart motive...really?  What if I want to help someone who doesn't want to help themselves?  What if my "help" is feeding into their precious idyllic mental state that allows them to take and take until the giver has nothing left, and then move on to the next eagerly willing and sympathetic donor? The tree most definitely wants to grow, to advance, to flourish in this big, bad world.  It has one goal: to advance toward heaven.  But with each passing day, the energy it expends to push its greens further and further gets spread ever thinner and thinner to each life-hungry leaf, which have no idea of the tree's lofty a

seasoned soil & fresh greens

House Salad at Kamp's.  Greens, nuts, veggies, feta.  It's the cheapest lunch for the most fullness of tummy I've yet found downtown.   And I was hungry come 6 o' clock this evening, meaning the portion size was impeccably precise.  Success. Energy has been abundant as of late.  I hate going to bed.  There's too much to read, too many places to go, too many versions of Caffe Americano out there to taste test and critique, young in the coffee-critic game though I am (still so many brewing methods to master knowledge of).  Luckily, coffee after 6pm just doesn't sit with me pleasantly, so the ventures are limited to mornings.  I can't even think of everything I want to write tonight, but there's just too much.  Of that I am sure. A camping trip will be underway two weekends from now.  I will say that I am more than stoked about this.  Longings for the next day I'd be in a tent on a cold, hard ground...bundled in a sweatshirt, socks and sleeping bag

life firsts & the best creme brulee

Living rent-free in someone else's mind. Last night I had my very first cigar. Scared out of my mind at first, I was... I simply knew I would inhale, fill my chest with smoke and have my lungs collapse inside of me. There was enough hot sake in my blood by that time, though, that inhibitions of the irrational nature quickly fled the scene. Java with vanilla in mine (was incredible on the lips); Arturo Fuente (Hemingway's Short Story) was his. I felt very keenly observed by the surrounding male population - here she is, a nearly pale lady in a shimmering and shapely ivory Monroe-style dress, sparkling teardrop earrings, blood-black hair and brightly tinted lips...puffing away on a less-than-ladylike longpiece. A lovely paradox, 'twas. Let them think what they will, darling...for they will, whether you let them or not. Leftover steak & lobster in my fridge. Remnants of a fantastical evening out. Is it even possible for me to validly complain about life, ever?

trains, clouds, and a thunder brew

I love hearing the whistles as they blaze by. Kamp's 1910 is right on the railroad tracks. My biscuits and gravy are aptly named "Derailed", as they're loaded with eggs, green and white onion, cheese and sausage, conveniently deviating from the minimal standard of white peppered gravy and flaky crusts. It's such a humid and cloudy day, and I'm a little surprised not to have seen any fallen trees yet. The storm last night was supposed to be "unprecedented", to use an ironic buzz word of our current day. Apparently there was a tornado on the ground in Norman last night; tonight is supposed to be just as exciting. All we got here was thunder, lightning, and erratic showers. The Thunder brew (again with the irony) is caramel flavored here, and I failed to take this into account when I added my near-whole packet of raw sugar. I just can't take such sweetness anymore, having weaned myself off of the excessive sugar and creamer I took in my younge

preventing mental and spiritual atrophy

Mental stimulation. I crave challenge. Where are the new ideas? Where are the intellectuals? Somehow I've lost connection with them. What is connection? What is my excuse? Where do I start now? My analytical side wants to pick at this wound until it's swollen red and throbbing, whatever it takes to get down to the deepest-seeded root and scrape it out, shred by shred until it's sure never to return. My impatient and antsy and artsy side is chomping at the bit and itches to move on, forget the cause, move forward and don't look back. I guess it never hurt to try. I'll search and seek until my journey either leads me somewhere, or leads me nowhere. Either way, I'll have found my answer. A lovely palest-blue light-weight tee and the black/white tribal skirt again. But this time with a sexy slingback black suede heel and long minimalist sparkly necklace. Another day at the office.

of humidors, roller-blading, and the sun

Jubilation! How unexpected! I hadn't bladed in a good eight or nine years. And these skates had yet to be broken in. Well, a second-hand store donor had done their part in this, good and well. However, none of my bruises or scrapes had memories tied to this pair yet. "Chaaaange...is gon' come..." It did. I fell. But not even due to a lack of skating skill -- I was feeling quite accomplished for having just skated up a hill, and decided to perch myself upon a stump that was, I discovered, just a tad too tall for my 5'2" frame. Consequence: a tender derrière and a heightened sense of and appreciation for, well, my height. My uphill victory remained with me, though, and I dare say I won't ever attempt to excuse my way out of a physical challenge of this sort again. The sun rewarded me handsomely for my efforts to look natural on a pair of blades. My arms, shoulders and face now have a bright, rosy glow, which I couldn't be happier with. Lover

she wields an ax

Slower, please. Not every day is about exasperated extraction, fear of being stranded with "less than". What is this dandy-lion fear, and who let it go to seed? Its stench has grown on me, collected like moss. The beautiful things and the mystery are what my most fulfilling days are made of. But how the memories flee! It has become clear that I must take to hunting them like wild game. I'll sack them up and pin them on my wall, using nails where necessary. A memory, an experience is like a rare butterfly or bird. With most of them, you only get that one chance to catch and cage, to make it yours forever. The yard in my head is overgrown. Covered, really. The most obvious and efficient solution would be to simply destroy the would-be flowers' nutrient source, rather than plucking them out of the ground, one by one. I take the ax to the sprinkler, to the bag of "Miracle"-Gro, to the landscaper. Sit down. Breathe. 'Never again', I say. S

i am not ashamed of my life.

Coffee tastes wonderfully dirty and almost ethereal when coupled with a blueberry Clif. Breakfast of champions. So this is the price I pay for being responsible. Single-handedly handling my own apartment, utilities, car, fuel, insurance, telephone, and groceries means I have far less money to travel with. The one thing I would choose to do, I can’t. At least not without a long, arduous saving process. Temptation teases me – should I be jealous? jealous of those with the liberty to live with their immediate family at such low cost, and the luxury of stockpiling their earnings for things such as a jaunt down to San Cristobal or Misol Ja, a sail across the North Atlantic for a holiday in Ireland? Jealousy is not an option. Everyone must learn to take care of themselves at some time or another. This blessing for that, a commerce of pros and cons. Upon further consideration, I realize I would never trade what I have in an apartment of my own for what I might have had if I had cho

ill, and a soreness of spirit

What a weekend. Friday started off ominously, with a little scratching of the throat and an overly warm feeling in my skin. They say this is how it starts. By three o'clock, I was no longer confident in my ability to contain myself. I was relieved of my deskly duties and allowed to go home. The time between then and now has passed enjoyably enough...as much so as can be, considering my not really feeling up to much of anything at all. Even the writing of this post has proven a difficult undertaking. In my mind is so much energy! so many ideas! such things to do! Alas, my body is not so willing. Frustratingly weak. City of Angels . This film, last night, caused me to cry in a way I haven't in a long time. The fallen angel said, upon being asked if he still would have become human if he'd known his lover would die that day: "I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand...than an eternity without it. One." W

a sea-farer i may be

Of note today >> 1. To Sea: I just may have found the ship for sailing to Europe on this summer. Ports of call include a) Miami, FL; b) Ponta Delgada, Portugal; c) Cobh (Cork), Ireland; d) Le Havre (Paris), France; e) Southampton (London), England. After landing in London, it'll be a few days of traipsing about, sampling wines and beers, and people-watching our hearts out until we fly back to the States. The trick now is securing accommodations while in London and a decently-priced flight home. 2. Pattern-Shuffle Tuesday: tablecloth blue/white plaid button-down on top of a black skirt with white tribal pictures, and set with patent black wedge sandals. There is also an unmentionable that I took for a test run all day today. In order to maintain some level of personal propriety, let me just say this: All my doubts are removed as to the workability and comfortability of this extraordinary little luxury. 3. Deferred Pleasure: I will have to wait a little longer for a l

berries and a denim romper

The week that just ended did so completely without my help. In fact, I'm inclined to think it intended to slip by without my noticing. Almost, Leap Week. Almost. Caught you by the Saturday. I've found out that in order to get the fashion blog up and running, I'll need a full-sized mirror, unless I want to place my sets in natural-looking arrangements on the bed and take pictures that way. 'Twould be fun for a while, and maybe will happen occasionally, but I can't see that pleasing me for too long. Off to Craigslist... Sold a few items at Daisy Exchange again. They gave me a store credit, which I was most excited to spend. As it turns out, after the credit was applied, I got five dresses and a little smocked denim romper for approximately $35 out-of-pocket. This method of wardrobe-updating is sitting happily with me. Date night with Loverboy was, in two words, purely charming. Strawberry Daiquiri harkens back to the days of Mexico, luscious cheesecake (defi

new hair and a popped collar

Feeling today a bit like Eva Green in my pinned-up hair that could now pass for a bobcut. Images of her character, Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale , come to mind with my black wool collar popped. All I need now is a little smoky-dark eyeshadow, some racy black stilettos, and for my medium-length pea coat to turn into a full-length trench. Her style in that film was simultaneously breath-taking and simple, up to the point she wore the incredible evening gown, which could hardly be described as simple. Just goes to show that the way you wear an item largely rivals the importance of the specific item itself. “Who is Edie Sedgwick?” <-- (title of my most recent miniature person-study [not to be confused as "miniature-person study"]) Loverboy is an anglophile, through and through. In picking up the mail today, my arms already quite full of bags and creamed Earl Grey, a seemingly elderly chap in a (grey) plaid jacket offered to hold my tea while I unloaded the post office b

there is no mathematics to love and loss

Cost of good manufactured vs. cost of good sold. My fiance knows everything that those two terms mean. Maybe he'll explain them to me for the thirty-seventh time. Economics is, of a certainty, the most important class I'll be auditing regarding the running of a business. I don't know why everyone doesn't think this way in their collegiate endeavors. Knowing how to see the signs of the times has just got to be the quintessential skill in staying ahead of the game / competition, saying nothing to merely staying afloat. My sister and I had an intriguing time on Friday night. I swear I have no idea how we live in the same city and don't chat more than twice every three months. Reminiscing over movie habits and strange impersonation talents, I realized I'm more comfortable with her than anyone, excepting my lover, but even that is a close contest. Whatever/whomever has inspired me to return to being sociable, I thank you. I'd forgotten what I was missin

swimming in the marigolds

I used to plant marigold seeds and keep them in the bathroom window. Watching this thing live was a wonder – it bent its tiny stems toward the glass and fairly pressed its leave onto it, like a child looking into a toy store. My latest horticultural endeavor is merely to provide life support to the miniature rose bush I was given on the 14 th . It is staying well-watered, but I’m afraid it’s dying for lack of sunlight. I moved them to the conference room window. Hoping the thorny stems will bend as easily as the marigolds did. I’ve decided it’s time to buy a bathing suit, and one I love so much I want to wear it all the time under my oxford shirts and everything. A necessary item :: perfect fit. I must not fall out of my bathing suit. After making a faux budget for my time, it appears I have more time to read than expected. Currently arranging the reading list. Making goals for the year. Speaking of budgets, I also determined that I can put 777 dollars per month into my savi

it will happen.

Simplifying. Back to the way things were. From this week forward, I'll be substituting flats (mini wedges at most) for heels. This decision was not easy. My favorite shoes I own are heels, and now I am denying myself them. My legs could use a better workout, though; the muscles seem to have almost set themselves into the shape my leg makes when a heeled shoe is on my foot, so walking in anything else utilizes a muscle set that hasn't seen action in too long. My combat boots arrived today. They are flat-ish, and caramel-colored. More flashbacks. At McNellie's, a friend expressed how much he's missed being out, instead of constantly running to and fro without a chance to let loose. "The energy...I love it," he said. I was suddenly prompted to be right there, in that moment. It used to come so naturally. That was before I grew up and had an electric bill. Somehow the difficulty is lessening...or maybe it's that I'm coming alive to the fact that

gather yourself, and gain composure. GO!

I feel the pressure to focus my near-uncontainable energy. The mere thought of only doing one thing at a time makes me nervous. The countless things that require my attention - ah! And so nothing gets done, rather than any one particular thing. #counterproductive Just about decided upon the order of my "Major Purchases List": i) bicycle ii) camera iii) euro trip iv) motorcycle The above may change, but I'm working for it not to. Focus! Bicycle. Last night was pure invigoration, although it could have been made more so with the right dosage of upbeat music (remember for tonight). Weights, the cot, the floor, the weights again. I already feel fitter, and that is no lie. This morning my back/torso felt amazing, and my pencil skirt sat just right around my waist. I can breathe. Regarding breathing, today I got a taste of what summer will be like, when I can shed all these woolen layers and get into the car, buckle my seatbelt without a strain, and move in my seat.

a day for lovers or something

Thank goodness, there were no heart-shaped Russell Stover boxes. Thank God. Small and with class beats expensive and impersonal/cliche/tacky any day, and particularly today. (Well, 2.14, anyway.) This post was promised, and is now being delivered. Monetary situations being what they are, at this time in my fiance's life, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. He never fails to surprise with his creativity using limited means; my anticipation was safely placed, I knew. He is such a thinker. Lunch time came 'round quicker than usual; he picked me up on the south side of my building, the loading zone. The precious look on his face as he handed me a brown paper bag, with telling grease circles on one side...I could have melted just for that. A turtle cheesecake cup. And then the roses...a bush is so much more than I expected in a floral arrangement, and he told me exactly why. His shot at poetry, drawing parallels between our love and the gift - I spent a while smiling on

grit; resolve

Ready for this thing. I need Instagram. Or another such something. A camera would do just as well. For a good while now, faith [and the active pursuit thereof] has proved a difficult endeavor. But I'm definitely finished looking backward, finished trying to find the precise point where the ship went "off course". No. Instead, I defiantly attribute the last 15 months' seeming "dry season" to be just that :: a season. And killing myself over having a season hasn't been very effective in my new pursuit of pursuit of faith. That is over and done with. I start here & now. This is the same journey I started on when I was 12. I think it's time for me to embrace the fact that it doesn't look like any journey I've ever heard of. <-- That means the journey is mine for the taking and making, which relieves me a little. Wanderlust has seeped in again...no more procrastinating. Money is money, and there's always more. There is A