I'll save it for someone special

I sit here, middle of September, realizing a couple of things:
First one is that we are 3 months away from Christmas. I am not ready for this.
I am listening to Christmas music on Pandora... Silver Bells.
I feel a giant ache in my heart, and it may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I just had a whole 32oz cup full of coffee at 10pm.

Okay, so we all know how I had a falling out with the people that were my family for the last 6 years, during possibly my most important time in my life, you know me turning into an adult, getting through trauma, learning important life lessons and following traditions...all that good jazz. Well, I happen to be determined to get over them and move on with my life. For my sake.

So... I'm over here Tumblr-ing away through Christmas stuff, listening now to Andy Williams' "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." His beautiful crooning bringing lots of warm fuzzy feelings and some haunted memories as well. And so I say to myself, I need to get my own memories. My own traditions, my own collection of Christmas movies, my own decorations. All that stuff.

I better start collecting. Because now I have absolutely nothing. Stuff is funny like that, so easy to lose it all. Oh well, replaceable. This is kind of bittersweet. My bio family- whom I am now back with (I swear, doesn't this sound like a boyfriend relationship? Wahh my boyfriend of 6 years left me and is now my ex while I'm back with my original ex... drahma city! Eeek...) Anyways. My bio family doesn't really go all out on Christmas. Really they just do Christmas eve party till midnight, open presents (presents are usually just for the kids) and go to bed, Christmas day is not a big deal at all. We don't even do Christmas dinner. Just Christmas eve dinner. This won't do... No over the top decorations, no smells of cinnamon and pine and treats a baking. No beautiful displays of Christmas towns or boxes of decorative gifts under the elaborately decorated tree. No carefully cooked treats and candy everywhere or decadent cookies. No Christmas activities and crafts nights, where perfect rice krispies shaped into gingerbread men and trees and angels are dusted with colored sugar crystals. No pop pom, googly eyes, and pipe cleaner penguins and bears. No Christmas radio with Delilah on 99.9, no wearing ugly sweaters and fun socks, no watching classic Christmas movies all day. No Muppet Christmas Carol, Elf, Polar Express, It's a Beautiful Life, Jingle all the Way, Home Alone...
Well. I better get on it then. I need to bring some intense Christmas spirit around here. I hope it works, because my family isn't very cooperative. Christmas time is basically my #1 joy in life. If I ever go crazy, I need you to send me up to the North Pole or like Alaska, and I will pretend it's Christmas time year round.
I will wrap presents year round, and be ultra crafty every day. Ahhhh that would be the life.

We shall deck the Halls... fo sho. Speaking of decking the halls, I deff need a job a.s.a.p, so I can make all of the above come true. And possibly have me living somewhere other than my sister's house. Because she is a control freak, and the aforementioned festivities would be taken over... sorry dude, I'm the Christmas freak darn it! Yeah I need my own space. As much as I am glad to share my love for the decoratings and stuff, I want stuff my way. I too am a control freak, and I don't think it will go very well if we are under the same roof trying to decorate. So yeah. I needs my own place to decorate like super mad crazy, with all kinds of festive beauties and stuff.Anywhoo... yeah Christmas will be very hard for me this year, but I want it to be mine. My own Christmas where I can do all the stuff I want, bake all the stuff I want, decorate how I want, and spend time with people that want me in their lives. So this is basically a fair warning... If you know me, be prepared to be attacked with all kinds of Christmas spirit coming from me (no different from me any other year, but still.) Also be prepared to be dragged to places you probably wouldn't be caught dead at, possibly gaining a million pounds from me shoving treats and hot chocolate in your face and possibly ready to sustain some hot glue injuries. Also, you will be dragged to Zoolights, possibly the Mormon temple lights, and to all the houses that I know that put up Christmas light shows, and possibly driving around and seeing all the amazing decorations. Yeah torturous stuff. But you love me, so deal with it.

Yeah I am determined to have myself a merry little Christmas, I have to. I owe it to myself. I need this year to be over, that's for sure. I also can't just keep looking back for those that hurt me, and taking the ones in my life right now for granted. So what better way to embrace my crazy family, than to incorporate them into my Christmas activities. I'm not going to try and recreate anything. I will always cherish every Christmas, from the years past. From the poor-er Christmas where even though we didn't have a lot of gifts, we were all together, and there was avocadoes, a very pregnant Lexy and Thousand Island dressing, walking down Southern ave at midnight; to the Christmas where I spent thousands, like 4 months paychecks, on presents and we all got a big chunk of presents. Christmas when we woke up and my sister and I got matching kitchen sets and all the fun fake food. The Christmas we spent in Bullhead city and my dad drove all the way to LA and back, because we didn't want our Maltese puppy, Snow, to spend it alone.

 The Christmas where it snowed outside our hotel room and we made a snowman for the first time. And snow angels. Beautiful, fat, snow angels, right by the pool area. The Christmas where we got a mountain of Barbies and toys taller than each of us. The Christmas my parents broke up and my dad tried buying us with a trip to Toys R Us... don't worry, they made up. The Christmas we spent at Ramon's house and all us kids were hanging out in the backyard and Giovanni's dog scared a possum, which scared the shit out of me and I ran inside screaming that there was a giant rat outside, and my dad and uncles spending the whole afternoon hunting the thing. Junior, Jessica, Faustito, My sister, Me, my brother, Ines, Giovanni and Alexis. All the kids I grew up with. Also when we discovered all the presents hidden in the room in giant Toys R Us bags. And us watching movies on the giant projector screen and pulling all the mattresses into the den. Not gonna lie, my childhood Christmases, as well as recent ones, were all freaking awesome.

I love Christmas. It's just a huge part of who I am. As much of a mess I am, that is the time that I save for peace of mind for myself. There is no such thing as sad times during Christmas time. It begins the day after Thanksgiving, ends on January 6th. That seems like such a long time, and not enough time... But that's gonna be my thing. It's funny no matter what seems to be falling apart (my love life for instance) Christmas time just fixes everything. Also, I am horrible about appreciating God throughout the year, but Jesus is the Reason for the Season. So I deff take time to thank him all throughout the holiday season.

Things I wanna make:
a gingerbread house... edible or not, I need one or 50 of these to be made. Also possibly a candy train.
string popcorn to put on my tree... I know... the cat will get into it and eat it. Idc.
crafts, crafts, crafts
I want to try cooking a turkey by myself. Maybe use this one for Thanksgiving, but we'll see.
Lots of edibles
Beautifully wrapped parcels and packages
tons of money to make all this happen
There are probably a ton of other things to add to that list. But yeah. I'm pretty excited, and deff planning for it in my head as we speak. Will it be perfect? I dunno, I actually kind of expect it not to be, but I'm hoping to do the best with what I have, with who I have in my life. So I promise to try very hard to make it as Christmas-y as possible. And try to make you all feel as happy as I feel when Christmas is in the air. It's very difficult to explain for me. For sure all my troubles melt away. Another thing about me during Christmas, I love everyone. It's outrageous and inexplicable and just beffudling. I will seriously just be all about joy and cheer and Christmas spirit, and you'll probably hate me. But oh well.

I will make you memorize Christmas songs with me, possibly spend all the season sleeping in the same room as the Christmas tree, and wearing hoodies. Me saying I love Christmas is an understatement. Total understatement. I think it's a big deal to me, because it just means stability. Deff not about the presents for me. I really wanna pass this on to those around me and hopefully one day my children. I want to be able to be known for my awesome Christmases. Not the presents part, although that doesn't hurt. It's always fun to have presents. But the feel goods are what I want to share. The ability to put a smile on someone's face with just a smell of cinnamon, or the sight of a carefully decorated tree, or the feel of a cold winter's snuggle while watching movies.

In my mind, Christmases are meant to be perfect. So will I be home for Christmas? Sure, as long as I get in the right mindset. My heart will always miss those whom I've made memories with, especially Christmas ones. I might get teary eyed listening to Silver bells and remember Rachel and Nicky doing it in sign language. I might sigh at the smell of hot glue and remember all the beautiful life sized gingerbread houses made with mom. I might sniffle while decorating, remembering every single decoration I helped put up and all the time we would spend doing it just so. Remembering making Jake mad when asking him to bring out the bins, and put all these other ones away. Remembering the way dad would put the lights on the tree just so, and Isaac's rants about how we didn't need 5 different trees. And Isaac feeling sorry for our lack of construction abilities and him finally constructing a beautiful wooden gingerbread house. And Rachel's singing of "dus has a purple trwee, dus has a purple trwee!" Pictionary and coloring books while mom makes pie and hot chocolate. Gabriel's toys singing "ring-a-ding-a-ling-a-ding-dong-ding." Mom and I making outrageous high pitched squeals when excitedly talking about anything Christmas-y, or hanging out in the garage when it was effing cold out each with a hot glue in hand and nonsense everywhere, making our gingerbread house perfect. I'll miss it. You rest assured I'll miss it more than anything.

In a way, "last Christmas, I gave you my heart and the very next day, you gave it away. This year, I'm saving my tears, I'll give it to someone special..." Who's the special someone this year? Basically everyone in my life right now. They have a right to know about Christmas fun Annel. That's who I wanna spend Christmas with. The people who are still in my life and want to be part of it. That's who I want to do the fun stuff with. That's who I want to cook for and make new memories with. So welcome aboard. Now I have to make myself a new home. It's not going to be perfect, I know that. If I can keep my brother and sister from fighting, my little sister to keep believing in Santa, and make some delicious food, I will call it good. We're not perfect but I can try and make it work. It's not going to be the same, I know that. Hopefully everyone will cooperate. That would make me happy. Just trying to have a happy Christmas. That's my goal. A happy Christmas. Trying to keep Santa alive in my mind.

A *Cheshire* Cat

So the other day, yesterday, maybe today, I woke up from a dream. My mom (not bio) was across the table from me, and she was crying. And she wanted to touch me, but I kept pulling away. She wanted to see my scars and I would just hide them, she wanted to talk but all I did was turn away. I remember waking up from this dream with some pain. It's not real. I can't keep creating things that I want to hear, or see, or feel. I can't keep creating feelings for others either. I'm not even in control of my own. Do I want to be rescued and told everything is going to be okay? More than anything. But I can't live in the past, just like I can't create feelings for everyone else. I just have to let it be. Move along, as the song that just popped on Pandora says.

There's no point in me just spending all my time thinking about what anyone is thinking about me. That's just a waste. A waste for me, a waste for those who want to know the real me. I miss you, but you're just a shadow. I'm sorry for whatever's happened, but I have to keep moving. I just have to.

I have come to the realization that my heart, hurt as it is, is very capable of love. Even after all the pain it has been through. I kind of like it that way. I have a good heart. Do whatever you want to it, it'll always love you. It's actually the one that trumps my ego and accepts apologies.

Idk why I felt I had to talk about this, but it's been sitting heavy on my heart lately. Most days I wonder if I am making the correct decisions, and I'm not going to lie, I am terrified. I hurt, but I have to stop sitting in the  painful spots and keep moving forward.


Alice: Oh, no, no. I was just wondering if you could help me find my way.
Cheshire Cat: Well that depends on where you want to get to.
Alice: Oh, it really doesn't matter, as long as...
Cheshire Cat: Then it really doesn't matter which way you go.

^^advice I need to follow. Maybe

Being Beautiful

NOTE: PLEASE TAKE TIME TO LISTEN TO THESE SONGS AND PAY ATTENTION TO THE LYRICS :)


Tomorrow, if I feel better, I shall dedicate the day to being beautiful. And that means putting in the extra effort it takes. Now many, if not all of you, have at one point called me beautiful. I am going to go ahead and admit it: I think I have a pretty face. I have unusually dark eyes with a perfect blend of laughter and pain. I have an honest smile. I feel that my nose is a bit wide, and yet just so with it's habit of crinkling when I laugh. I have a round face that sometimes, when I smile just right, gets a dimple. Just one. I have a ton of little reddish brown freckles that are dotted on my cheeks, forehead and nose. And my eyebrows don't match. I'm cool with that. I have cute little hands and feet and my body is just short. Short little arms, short little legs, short torso. And some wide, baby making hips whom have the need to always bump into counters and get bruised. My body's way of punishing me for not having any babies yet. Lol. Anyways if I could pick out one word to describe myself with, it would be cute. And yet I see every single one of my flaws.

By flaws I mean my terrible skin that keeps breaking out. And the fact that I don't have even skin color on my face. Or anywhere else. I am short, and very much overweight, therefore the way my weight is dispersed throughout my smaller frame is not very cute. It's actually quite terrible. I hate wearing clothes with no sleeves because my arms are all kinds of fat. True story, my recent ex actually said something about them once and it really hurt my feelings. That asshole! Anyways... I have confused hair that is supposed to be curly, but because I straighten it almost daily, it is just poofy/wavy. It is very thin and also quite oily, so it requires daily washing for sure. Even though I won't wash it every day. At the same time, I'm a pretty hairy girl. I bought into the shaving my arms like during 7th grade, but by the time 9th grade came around I got sick of it and now my arm hair is super long. And gross. I have a fuzzeh lower back (that my sister waxed yesterday, so it's nice and smooth today but holy wow that was painful!!!!) So anyways I really hate shaving!!! It takes me forever!!!

Anyways. There is a beauty regimen that I follow sometimes. And it doesn't really mean caking on the makeup. As much as I love playing with it, sometimes I like just evening out my skin tone, tossing on some eyeliner and mascara and calling it a day. And those are usually my prettier days. I love me in jeans/ tee shirts and a ponytail. That is the classic Annel look. Don't forget the ultra straight side bangs and glasses. Mhmm. Now, I'm gonna go ahead and say that ever since I was diagnosed with depression, I can't seem to get out of my funk. I have noticed it has gotten progressively worse. My funk part, I think I'm doing pretty okay with the being depressed part. There is very little that I am sad about right now, and for the most part it's all stuff that can be fixed. So I haven't payed attention to it.

What I'm talking about is spending all my days at home because I'm still jobless, but I have fallen in a rut. And it's not even a good one. I have started living life as if it were "just another day" that I know for sure is going to be uneventful and just like the previous one. It has become: Get up, sometimes take L to school (sometimes I don't), fire up my laptop, probably message Cal, go pee, brush my teefers, wash my face, crawl back in bed. Around 10ish- 11ish I get hungry and make something to eat (brunch?), then I spend most of my day on the computer. Sometimes I relocate to the kitchen, living room, wherever... sometimes I don't. I do my usual job search, apply at a few places online, all while talking to my bestie. I get tired of that and eventually decide I better get dressed, so I jump in the shower/bath. 2 ish my brother comes home for lunch time and we hang out. Then the little one is off school so I walk over to meet up with her (sometimes I don't.) By the time she gets back, I have to whip up some sort of after school snack for her (sometimes her friends too) and I start cleaning and stuff. I always start in my room. It drives me crazy if my bed isn't made and the carpet isn't vacuumed. So I do that first, followed by dishes, making my sister take out the garbage, while I do the floors and plan for dinner. Sometime around 3, the twins come home from the sitter's house. My brother in law gets off work then, and they also get after school snack time. Also they make a mess over what I just cleaned. My mom gets home then too. Then either she or I take over dinner, then there are dishes. Homework is done and checked for any errors. By 10pm everyone is in bed, well except for me. I like to take a bath and unwind around that time. I also like to stay up late, until Cal goes to sleep and then some. Usual bedtime for me would be 2:30-3am. Wake up time next day: 7am. And it all starts all over.

So. It seems like a lot, but at the same time it really isn't. And it bothers me that I have conformed to this way of living. I have cabin fever. I want to go out, but can't because I don't have a car. I get an allowance from my mom just like my sister. I'm 23. I'm able bodied, and I like to say stable minded for the most part. I am a very hard worker, and enjoy work. And I still haven't gotten a job. As much as this bothers me, I also know that I am very uncomfortable with rejection, especially recently, and I have come to take it personal. I also feel like a giant burden at home. Because it's enabling me to be a couch potato and gaining even more weight.

Anyways. That's not what this is about. I can sit here and bitch about all my negatives all day. And day after day for the next month and a half. But I have learned something. Being negative to yourself isn't going to make you want to change something. Instead you only become sadder about it, angrier about it, but for sure you will feel powerless and let it defeat you. How do I know this? Because I haven't cut myself. I found there are more than one solutions to a problem.

Well tomorrow, if my health permits, I'm going to take the day to feel beautiful. I might do my toes and nails a fun bright color. I might put my face on and do my hair. I might even actually get dressed and put on a bra. More than anything I feel that I need to do this for myself. Because just like how I quit because I'm sore, I feel like I've quit on myself. And it isn't fair to me. We only get one life, one role to play, one character. So, we have to do the best with what we have. Doesn't mean we have to be ugly people. In fact, it means we have to try and disprove that. For some it takes a rigorous gym regime. For others it means caking on the makeup. For me, it's being happy. I haven't been happy because I keep focusing on all the bad. And I forget about all the good. I think we all tend to do that. We are our own worst enemies. We put ourselves down more often and harsher than what everyone else does. Think about it.

For the most part, you are the lead character in your life. You want to make yourself happy, you want to be the best, have the best, wear the best, play the best. All that. Now, leave yourself for a little bit. See all those around you? Every single person on the planet has that same idea of themselves. You are just a minor character in their lives. You might become a strong supporting character, but still just a character. Not the star of the story. When this was explained to me, I started understanding that people don't care too much about me and what I do/ don't do with my life, because they are all focused on themselves. So, don't stress wondering what all the others are thinking about you... usually they aren't. I have a phobia of eating in large cafeterias by myself. I always feel like people are just staring at me and I feel completely naked and vulnerable. My 9th grade year, I would literally have panic attacks about this. So one day, I decided to do something about it. I scanned the lunch room for the lonely kids, and decided to make friends. Because I'm sure they were just as insecure as I was. Sometimes it was awkward and we were basically just sharing a table. Sometimes we would engage in conversations and feel a little normal. This takes a lot of hard work, meeting new people. It's fucking scary. I still haven't gotten over this phobia. I'm 23.

Basically I decided I'm not gonna be so hard on myself. I don't have anyone to impress, other than myself. And really I'm the one who gets to decide at the end of the day, if I felt beautiful or not that day. Tomorrow I'm gonna put in some effort to it. Maybe I'll like it so much, this feeling beautiful, that I'll try and do it the next day and the next. Happiness is usually addicting. So are happy pills, but I chose not to take them. Because I had happy real happy pills in my life. I ended up being better off without them. And part of me has learned to finally just stop fighting it. My happiness, I mean. Maybe me wearing my heart on my sleeve is a good thing. [Random AF side note by me: I decided I want a heart tattoo on my arm, where my sleeve is. I think I need one, so people get to see it a little more clearly. Think of it as a warning sign. And at the same time, I feel proud of actually having it hang out there. So, possible tattoo on my left upper arm. The end] There's nothing I can do about that, so I guess I gotta learn to love it. Just like I have learned to love my abnormally small hands and feet, and my loud trilling laugh, and even my hairy lower back (in all fairness, it's really light and thin, it just bothers me.) Anyways.

So. I think boys can be beautiful too, even if they don't feel it. Mainly because it isn't manly to feel beautiful. But I think it's important. People perceive you by mirroring how you see yourself. I have been told confidence is a major plus. I don't have a lot of it. But I can fake it till I make it. So try to make it a thing. Make yourself.

Important lyrics to live by:


If you let them make you, they'll make you paper mache
At a distance you're strong, until the wind comes
Then you crumble and blow away
If you let them fuck you, there will be no fore-play
Rest assured, they'll screw you complete
Til your ass is blue and gray
You should make amends with you
If only for better health, better health
But if you really want to live
Why not try, and make yourself

I love ya'll <3

Taylor Fucking Swift

This is hillarious <3

Pictures I took :)

Oroville park sunset, Oroville California

A Cave! Near Roosevelt Lake, AZ

Freeway 8 sunset, Somewhere between Gila Bend and Maricopa City, AZ

Another Shot of that Freeway 8 sunset. 

Rainy day in Mesa, right outside our house

On the way home from Mexico

9/11

I am attempting to write this through full on sobs. 11 years ago, I remember my very pregnant mom (8 months) rushing us to eat our breakfast and get dressed before we missed the bus to school. I remember there were no morning cartoons, just the news on every channel. Even Cartoon Network. Well that's annoying, my 12 year old brain thought. I was oblivious to what was going on, even though they were showing footage of the attacks on every channel. I remember one image vividly. The guy with the long hair, jumping from the burning building, to his sure death. It gives me chills as well as haunts me still today. God rest his soul. God rest all their souls. 

This was my first day of 7th grade at Taylor Jr. High. Our family had just moved here. So it wasn't only hectic, it was very confusing. I do remember finally getting to class, and my teacher was in tears. I didn't understand, so I quietly went and sat in an empty seat next to a boy who was praying (It was Nino.) I wasn't sure what was going on. Suddenly the TV was turned on by Mrs. Barker, and I finally saw why everyone was so somber. I saw a giant airplane just barreling into a building. Flames, lots of smoke, then a second plane going straight for the second building. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I remember, I too just broke down and started crying. My heart instantly broke for all those people. 

I remember being angry, feeling helpless, being terrified and just wanting to go home to be with my family. I didn't know anyone in this classroom, and yet I shared a very intimate moment with them all. I remember praying. I was still a little girl.  11 years later, I still remember that day very vividly. Every single person has a different story of where they were that day. I am more and more grateful to the people in the military, as well as their families, who have to accept that they have to go. I  have many who are dear to me that are part of the armed forces. I especially thank them greatly for their selfless service. My prayers are always with you, even if we no longer see eye to eye. You still have all my respect. Tattooed or not. <3 

Today is now known as Patriot Day. There is a new building where the twin towers. We observe this day, as a remembrance to those who lost their lives that day, as well as celebrate the lives of those willing to lay theirs down for us. CAUTION: I can't get through listening to any one of these songs without just tearing up. Watching these videos, is like picking at a scab. At the same time it reminds me of why I am so grateful for the men and women who serve our country.

Ghost stories

So...

Rainy days!

I know it's just the beginning of September and unlike other places, my dreams of fall weather, autumn leaves and rainy days aren't real in Arizona, but a girl can dream, right? It was rainy earlier, if that counts for anything. Anyways, for some reason I am really excited for Halloween this year, I think partly because I hadn't really celebrated it in 6 years or so. I know... sue me. But I also have some kick ass ideas for a costume, and found some confidence hidden in the closet, (Corsets anyone?) so who knows.

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

Aside from that, I am really looking forward to a few things, like the up coming, cooler weather, where I can wear boots and jeans and hoodies. Who am I kidding? I wear jeans year round! But seriously, I love jeans and hoodies and T-shirts! And I love colder weather. And the color ORANGE. And possibly home made apple cider coming soon. So I'm excited. I almost want to spend a weekend up in Flagstaff or Payson or something (anywhere in Northern-ish Arizona) and just be cold. Idk maybe find somewhere with a fireplace and stuff. I also am looking forward to getting my orange "fall" quilt out of my storage bins, and spreading it on my bed. Because it is made of warms!

Candy Corn Candle holders

I also want to decorate everything in orange and browns and reds and golds. And get some cinnamon, apples, and pumpkin smells going. And I want to say that I'll be in my own place by Thanksgiving, but that is wishful thinking. So we'll wait and see, sometimes wishes do come true. Well I am hoping to create my own Thanksgiving memories. Maybe forget the old ones. I will admit this brings a bit of pain to me. The holidays do. There's nothing I can do to change that, and I have to learn to let some ghosts from my past, disappear. All those I would've, should've, could've's that didn't happen, and aren't going to happen need to just get out of my life. I'm a small person, and I'm only willing to carry so much luggage, per se.

Da Bears

Also, I have decided to possibly switch football teams. Why? Also heartache. Maybe it's time I branch out on my own here. As much as I love Troy Polamalu and his sweet skills, I'm now on the hunt. This is kind of a difficult thing for me to do, since I feel so uneducated about all the other teams. Natural reaction when you're a Steelers fan ~> all the other teams suck. So for now I am adopting da Bears. Because, again... I love orange. And they are a respectable team haha. So, we'll see how this one unfolds, feels like it's gonna be a lame football season for me this year. Oh well.

Punkin Patch!!

I have been feeling pretty crafty recently and totally want to do some fun Halloween stuff. Maybe get a hay bale and make a scarecrow for fun. :) And I can't wait to carve a pumpkin (and bake pumpkin seeds). Okay, one of the few activities I have kept up with is going to the pumpkin patch. Vertuccio Farms maybe, for the corn maze and pumpkin pickin's. Hahah so true story: I can't pronounce pumpkin. And I also suck at spelling it. I feel that it should be punkin. No extra "P" in there, or an "M." Hahah think Punk-in. yay for compound words.

Squirrel!!!

But candied apples, hot chocolate, raking leaves (our tree isn't a fun oak tree, it's just an ugly AZ tree) and the occasional ghost story sounds like fun. I can honestly say I am pretty excited for autumn. At least the weather will be decent enough to go on more outdoor activities, like the park and stuff. Pick up some pine cones, you know, fun stuff. So we shall see! I am going to try and make it one of the best falls I've had, and I am going to have to learn to enjoy things. That's where I'm at. So, yeah. I'm glad I got that off my chest. <3

Mhmmm

Boys and Girls Together
by Neil Gaiman

Boys don't want to be princes.
Boys want to be shepherds who slay dragons,
maybe someone gives you half a kingdom and a princess,
but that's just what comes of being a shepherd boy
and slaying a dragon. Or a giant. And you don't really
even have to be a shepherd. Just not a prince.
In stories, even princes don't want to be princes,
disguising themselves as beggars or as shepherd boys,
leaving the kingdom for another kingdom,
princehood only of use once the ogre's dead, the tasks are done,
and the reluctant king, her father, needing to be convinced.

Boys do not dream of princesses who will come for them.
Boys would prefer not to be princes,
and many boys would happily kiss the village girls,
out on the sheep-moors, of an evening,
over the princess, if she didn't come with the territory.

Princesses sometimes disguise themselves as well,
to escape the kings' advances, make themselves ugly,
soot and cinders and donkey girls,
with only their dead mothers' ghosts to aid them,
a voice from a dried tree or from a pumpkin patch.
And then they undisguise, when their time is upon them,
gleam and shine in all their finery. Being princesses.
Girls are secretly princesses.

None of them know that one day, in their turn,
Boys and girls will find themselves become bad kings
or wicked stepmothers,
aged woodcutters, ancient shepherds, mad crones and wise-women,
to stand in shadows, see with cunning eyes:
The girl, still waiting calmly for her prince.
The boy, lost in the night, out on the moors.


I love this poem. I don't want a prince. I don't want someone whom I have to constantly try to impress, and try to compete with. I want the simple shepherd boy, the one with a better story and a bigger heart. One who will never think twice of putting me before him. I would gladly do the same. Because I am one of the village girls. Plain, down to earth and not spectacular, but with a good laugh. At least I will do my best not to become a wicked stepmother or a mad crone. <3

distraught

i know today i'll spend the day in a daze
i know that i won't care that i didn't sleep and that i can see the cat eating my breakfast
i know that i just stared at the running water in the sink for a whole 3 minutes instead of doing the dishes
i know i'm not using any punctuation or capitalization
so unlike me
maybe not. maybe i was doing all that because i was forcing myself to... fitting the round peg in the square hole... that whole bit

i could drown in my tears if i wanted to, course, i'm not going to cry.
instead i'll let sighs escape me, long drawn out exasperated sighs
not trying takes a lot of hard work and dedication.

there's no real reason as to why i feel the way do. i could easily just let it pass, as usual. but then, that's what i've been doing all along. and it's only lead to this. bigger sighs. because i wanted to prove everyone wrong. including myself. maybe it's time i listen to my gut reaction.

run.

run away.

and never look back.

question is: is that what i really want?

doesn't feel right, but everything else doesn't either. i will tell you this. of all the relationships i have had in my life, this one is the hardest, most complicated, most high maintenance one i've been in. today, as i sit here and type this, when i know for sure there are a billion other things i should definitely be doing, i just don't know where to go with it. i'm gonna have to back burner it. i'm off to get some of that other shit done and whatever.

How I Know I Love You

Aug. 21, 2012 By  Mila Jaroniec

I know I love you because I want to get you soup when you’re sick. Not only do I want to get it for you, I want to make it for you so you can eat something made with love instead of with crushed insects and preservatives. I know I love you because I want to slap anyone who hurts you, even if it’s your boss. I want to hold you when you’re having a nightmare and kiss the spot that hurts when you bump into something. I know I love you because I want you to be healthy even when you’re not sick, and that’s why I keep bugging you to change your crappy eating ways even though I know you’re over hearing about it.

I know I love you because I worry about the stuff only people who love you worry about, like the amount of quality sleep you get a night and how much you drink when you’re sad and whether you’re getting enough vitamin B. Like probably more than your mom does, I’m not sure she especially cares about vitamin B. I know I love you because I freak out when you’re obviously disintegrating yet too stubborn and too “I’m fine” to actually go to the doctor, even though I do that sort of thing myself.

I know I love you because I think you’re beautiful even when you’re not. And I don’t mean good-looking, I mean beautiful, beautiful like there’s something pervasive and magnetic about you that comes through even when you look positively bad. I think you’re beautiful even when you’re hungover and puking your guts out, covered in hives, or when half your face is purple and swollen because you decided to cosplay Fight Club and punched yourself in the eye too hard. I know I love you because I think you’re beautiful even when you’re wearing Crocs and that’s no small accomplishment.

I know I love you because I can’t abandon you, not even when you’re being a dick. Not even when you’re being ten dicks. Normally I don’t put up with that sort of behavior but I love you and I understand you’re stressed or frustrated or PMS-y so I’ll let it slide for a little bit. But I also love you enough to call you out on it when it gets to be too much. I know I love you because only people who love you care to say something about your bad behavior instead of saying nothing and just calling you an asshole behind your back.

I know I love you because I want to listen, I really do. I don’t have anywhere to be that can’t wait for a while and I’m not checking my phone, in fact turned it off and buried it in the cushions the moment you said you needed me. I’m here for you and that other thing can wait.

I know I love you because I’m truly concerned with how your life turns out. It’s not just that I want you to “be happy” or attain that vague self-helpy “inner peace” bullshit we’re all supposed to aspire toward, I want you to express yourself and be fulfilled and feel like you’re living life for a good reason, not just passing the time. I want everything to work out for you the way it should and I want to be there for it, occasionally with champagne.

And I’m genuinely convinced that I love you because I want to do things for you that I don’t want to do for anyone, ever. Examples: I’ll babysit your loud sticky children when you have them. I’ll bring you ice water and take care of you when you eat too much ecstasy like an idiot. I’ll even stand there patiently with a video camera as you attach piranhas to your nipples when you’re broke and trying to get on Jackass, all that and more. That’s how I know I love you, and I hope you know it too.

Home is where the heart is

But what if you don't know where you've left your heart?

I did not keep your Letters

{Gabriel Gadfly

I read them,
 and then I threw them in the trash,
 but make no mistake, I read them.

I swallowed them whole.
 I filled my eyes with every word,
 I sewed them in patterns
 into my flesh of my body,
 at night I wake to entertain the ghosts
 lounging in my bedroom
 with impromptu recitations
 of your letters, of your thoughts,
 of the shape of you in words

but I could not keep your letters.

I could not let them languish
 in a dusty box, fermenting
 into poisons in the closet dark.
 I could not let them lie in wait,
 like coiled paper vipers
 ready to strike the hand that strays
 too far and stirs the den.}

Heads or Tails

I guess there's two sides to everyone. Both sides are equally part of a person. To love a person, you must love both sides. You can't have it one way or another.

There's a me that deserves to be someone's world. The one that is a wonderful friend, a giver, a lover, the one with compassion and full of forgiveness and understanding. The one with that smile. That looks at you like you are her whole world, because you are. Who will gladly put herself aside, no questions asked, in order for you and your feelings. The confident, pretty one. The one that carries her heart on her sleeve and trusts you not to hurt it. Even if you do, she'll forgive you. Always. The one who likes to cook and bake and sing off key. That one with the laugh. The one that prays for you constantly, and refuses to give up on someone. The daydreamer.

There's a me that is forever angry. The one that hates herself and feels inadequate and like a big nothing.
There's a me that is defeated and sad. The one that has a constant broken heart and no matter what anyone tries to say or do, can she seem to smile. The one that is tired of life. The quitter. The cutter. The overweight, friendless, loser. The one that settles. The one that thinks the only way anyone will ever like her is if she has sex with them. The one that doesn't want me to succeed, but to die instead.

Heads or tails. I now have to chose which one is going to control this situation. I now have to chose what I am going to do. Am I going to stop throwing myself at him, and finally understand that he just doesn't want me? Am I walking away? Am I quitting? Am I going to forgive my most loved friend and be there for him, as I have always promised, even if it hurts me? It hurts me. When will I start being selfish for me? What about me? I hurt. I hurt either way.

So who's going to win? Heads or tails.

I hesitate. I flinch. I am at a point in my life where there's another road I can follow. I can break away from yours. I followed you down this road, up ahead is an exit. I don't know where it goes. It's always a one way road, can't go back. Will it meet back up with yours? I don't know. Will yours intersect mine some day? I don't know. Do I have the courage to let go of your hand and head down this way, without looking back? I don't know. Does it hurt? Yes.

I would love to follow you all the way to the end of your road. I can't. For one thing you won't let me. For another, I don't think I'm supposed to. My exit is coming up.

I hate when I try and promise myself I'm not going to cry. I know I will. I will cry for my loss, I will cry for all the effort I put into it, I will cry for all those memories, I will cry and try to run back and try to find you. But you'll be gone. You'll be gone, and there's no way for me to follow you because you didn't leave any tracks.

Do I keep on keeping on then? Follow you into the dark? Even if I get lost.

Right now my answer is simple. No. No more. No more hurting me. I will cry. I will cry because I'll miss you, and have no one to tell that I miss you. I will cry because I can't expect you to wait for me. I know you won't. You won't. I will cry because, I really did want you in my life forever. I invested in you with my whole heart. It was a terrible idea, but I did anyways. Because there's a big part of me that's a dreamer. I will cry for that loss. But at least I can cry until I meet someone else on my road. I don't have to keep doing tricks and backflips to keep you interested. Maybe someone will follow me down my road...

For now I think I'm going to listen to Marc and Angel: http://www.marcandangel.com/2012/08/27/9-reasons-its-time-to-move-on/

I will keep moving forward then. Keep on keeping on. We don't know, maybe our roads meet again some day. We'll let the future us deal with that then. Right now I'm not prepared to, and I have to start walking. Even if it means in an opposite direction from you. I won't be far, at least I don't think I will be. We might catch glimpses of each other here and there, I'll make sure to give a passing nod. I don't know if there'll be more. I haven't gotten there yet. I am sitting with you at this fork in the road. Ready to go left as you go right. Not sure if ready, but knowing that I have to.

I love you friend. Don't forget that. I really do. Far and beyond better than in a romantic way, I love you as my dearest friend. This is truly crushing me, but I am too weak to go on this way. I'm sorry it has to go this way too. I wish you a happy birthday, with many more to come. I am sorry I can't be there for your heartbreak. I am sorry I can't be there to cheer you on through all your accomplishments. I am sorry. I love you. You still have a huge place in my heart, and I am still giving you that piece you took with you. I might ask for it back eventually. Till then, I guess this leaves us at a goodbye. I don't know yet. I haven't flipped that coin.

Love Tim McGraw

This song holds a lot of truth about my decisions. I will do anything to see you smile. Even if it hurts. Why can't I seem to bring myself to do it this time?

I just don't know what to feel anymore

Simply impossible.
Run left, farther away from the right. Run right, farther away from the left. Can't stay in the middle. Middle doesn't get you anywhere. So, back in the sales mentality, I ask myself, What's in it for me? I honestly don't see anything for me.  One day I'm everything, the next, I'm nothing. Only I'm not everything. Never been, have I?