My heart has been seriously grieving the loss of my life in Reno. I wrote this poem in memory of my time there.
A love lost
A time that had been written
On the lines of a feather that has blown away
Where did it land?
Or perhaps it keeps flying
Always in route, always in motion
Never to settle
Or be written on again
You chase it, try to find it
But it is gone
Hiding from the very home it left
But what if you forget
What was shared on those lines
You forget how it went
As it started to fly
Away away and further away
A love lost
Like a ripple of water finding it's end
The dance is over
Everything is still
No movement, no knowledge
Only a silence so deadly and near
What now will come?
Something new? Something unwanted?
But you can't recognize
The view in sight is clouded
You are unsure
Nothing is familiar, nothing is home
You are the love lost
Both grounded and in flight
Both homeless and bound
Both shattered and whole
A new time has arrived
New lines are written
To fly away once more
And just once more again
They are loves lost
Monday, November 5, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
back again.
the tide is strong
it makes you remember, makes you forget
time tries to push you to your limits
I can hear myself crying as I stand silent
still in the night just trying to fight it
you can't go back, there is no forward
just a price on your day you can no longer afford
there is too much fighting for your heart
darkness and light as they tear you apart
are we nothing, are we something
are we trying and proving tiring
we wake in the morning, and fall in the night
to return to the answer that should make it alright
sometimes the beginning is simply the end
sometimes the end is where you begin
it makes you remember, makes you forget
time tries to push you to your limits
I can hear myself crying as I stand silent
still in the night just trying to fight it
you can't go back, there is no forward
just a price on your day you can no longer afford
there is too much fighting for your heart
darkness and light as they tear you apart
are we nothing, are we something
are we trying and proving tiring
we wake in the morning, and fall in the night
to return to the answer that should make it alright
sometimes the beginning is simply the end
sometimes the end is where you begin
Thursday, June 14, 2012
why I write.
A dear friend of mine asked if I would be willing to write a blog about why I write. I accepted her challenge and here is the result. I want to warn you that the beginning of my writing career isn't the happiest of stories. It is painful and sad. If you aren't in the mood for such an intro, I advise you to move on and go about your internet-grazing way. (this is me being Jude Law in the movie Lemony Snicket's a Series of Unfortunate Events. Remember how he warns the audience that the movie is not a movie about a happy little elf? I wish I could somehow get Jude Law to narrate this blog for you, I really do.)
I took the liberty of making a list to get me started. I am going to share the list with you and then elaborate. So that way if you are in a hurry, you can just read the list of reasons why I write and then move on. I'm all about pleasing the people today, aren't I?
Reasons why I write(in chronological order):
1. coping mechanism
2. communicating
3. story telling
4. creative outlet
I was born a writer. I am not really sure how or why, but I know as soon I was old enough to pick up a pencil, I wrote. As soon as I was old enough to type, I put down the pencil and got a type writer, and as soon as there were such things as online journals, I had one. My relationship with writing began when I was very young, and it started as a
1. coping mechanism. When I was a child, there were many things going on around me that shouldn't have been exposed to such a young mind. These things made deep rivers in my head that were dried up and stuck, and all I could do to get the rivers flowing out into some kind of tangible destination, was write. I would pick up a pencil and write about what I felt. I would write these stories of pain, loss, death, and hopelessness. Some of these things I wrote, I still have, and when I look back and read them, I cannot imagine my own child expressing the things I was desperately trying to express at such a young age. I was angry, sad, confused, and, for lack of better word, haunted. I asked many questions in these early writings. Many of them were just sentences of whys. I felt I had no answer. I felt writing was my only escape, the only thing I could really understand. You know how many lonely characters in literature escape by reading books? (like Francie in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Matilda, and Jane Eyre.) That is how I was as a child, but along with reading, I turned to writing my own stories. Writing started out for me as a way to cope with what was going on around me, things I could not comprehend. It quickly became my best friend and my favorite way of
2. communicating. I found as I started growing up, I would get very easily frustrated when I would try to explain what I was feeling or thinking. I couldn't quite get my words out and I remember many times where I would get overwhelmed and just start to cry. Eventually I just stopped trying, and wouldn't say anything. But when I really needed to communicate something, I wrote. I remember telling friends on the phone, "I can't explain it, I will write it to you." And I did. I wrote many letters, stories, and poems to anyone I wanted to communicate with. Friends, boys I liked, and even my family members would get these written expressions that I just couldn't seem to say out loud. It was around this time I got a type writer from Santa (yep, the big man HIMSELF) and started really going to town. I was 11, and all I cared about was
3. story telling. I would sit indian style on my bed in my house off of Pacific Terrace Drive and just fill up sheets and sheets of paper. My favorite part was naming the characters. There was Jackson Rose, she was a girl with a boy's name and you did not mess with her. There was Mr. Tiny Brown, he was not tiny. My most common character was my brother but I would disguise him with different aliases. I started getting notes home from my teachers telling my parents that I was going to be a writer. My teachers would ask for a 2 page report, and I'd turn in a 5 page report. Once I would get going, I just found it hard to stop. I started living through my characters and stories, and for the first time in my life, I started to feel alive. I got into poetry, online journaling, pen-paling, writing contests, and anything else that had to do with writing. I didn't know much about myself then, but what I knew was that I loved to write and I wouldn't ever stop. I never stopped, and though my life has changed dramatically since I first began writing, it is still my number one
4. creative outlet. I wrote a quote when I was 17 that goes like this, "I must create. In a moment, we are either simply living or we are simply dying. Creating is the only way to escape it, the only way to be something other than dead or alive." And it is true. Writing is creating. I create because I feel it is the only escape from just living or dying. It is the "more." It is the "why." When someone creates something, they have the CHOICE to share it or not share it. That is freedom. We have the freedom to liberate what we create and birth it into something that just doesn't live or die, it IS. And it wouldn't be without us. I am so passionate about this, that my hands are shaking now as I write this. Tim Burton could have kept the idea of Edward Scissorhands in his mind, J.K. Rowling could've left the entire WORLD of Harry Potter unknown to anyone else, Van Gogh could have kept the visions that haunted him and left them to their haunting, and Stevie Wonder could've given up what he simply couldn't see. But they didn't. They created and birthed things that will never die, they have been released and no one can EVER undo it or take it back. If you have anything you were born to do, want to do, or suck at doing but love it anyway, do it. Share it. Be it. There is a number 5. I write because
5. I am a writer.
I took the liberty of making a list to get me started. I am going to share the list with you and then elaborate. So that way if you are in a hurry, you can just read the list of reasons why I write and then move on. I'm all about pleasing the people today, aren't I?
Reasons why I write(in chronological order):
1. coping mechanism
2. communicating
3. story telling
4. creative outlet
I was born a writer. I am not really sure how or why, but I know as soon I was old enough to pick up a pencil, I wrote. As soon as I was old enough to type, I put down the pencil and got a type writer, and as soon as there were such things as online journals, I had one. My relationship with writing began when I was very young, and it started as a
1. coping mechanism. When I was a child, there were many things going on around me that shouldn't have been exposed to such a young mind. These things made deep rivers in my head that were dried up and stuck, and all I could do to get the rivers flowing out into some kind of tangible destination, was write. I would pick up a pencil and write about what I felt. I would write these stories of pain, loss, death, and hopelessness. Some of these things I wrote, I still have, and when I look back and read them, I cannot imagine my own child expressing the things I was desperately trying to express at such a young age. I was angry, sad, confused, and, for lack of better word, haunted. I asked many questions in these early writings. Many of them were just sentences of whys. I felt I had no answer. I felt writing was my only escape, the only thing I could really understand. You know how many lonely characters in literature escape by reading books? (like Francie in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Matilda, and Jane Eyre.) That is how I was as a child, but along with reading, I turned to writing my own stories. Writing started out for me as a way to cope with what was going on around me, things I could not comprehend. It quickly became my best friend and my favorite way of
2. communicating. I found as I started growing up, I would get very easily frustrated when I would try to explain what I was feeling or thinking. I couldn't quite get my words out and I remember many times where I would get overwhelmed and just start to cry. Eventually I just stopped trying, and wouldn't say anything. But when I really needed to communicate something, I wrote. I remember telling friends on the phone, "I can't explain it, I will write it to you." And I did. I wrote many letters, stories, and poems to anyone I wanted to communicate with. Friends, boys I liked, and even my family members would get these written expressions that I just couldn't seem to say out loud. It was around this time I got a type writer from Santa (yep, the big man HIMSELF) and started really going to town. I was 11, and all I cared about was
3. story telling. I would sit indian style on my bed in my house off of Pacific Terrace Drive and just fill up sheets and sheets of paper. My favorite part was naming the characters. There was Jackson Rose, she was a girl with a boy's name and you did not mess with her. There was Mr. Tiny Brown, he was not tiny. My most common character was my brother but I would disguise him with different aliases. I started getting notes home from my teachers telling my parents that I was going to be a writer. My teachers would ask for a 2 page report, and I'd turn in a 5 page report. Once I would get going, I just found it hard to stop. I started living through my characters and stories, and for the first time in my life, I started to feel alive. I got into poetry, online journaling, pen-paling, writing contests, and anything else that had to do with writing. I didn't know much about myself then, but what I knew was that I loved to write and I wouldn't ever stop. I never stopped, and though my life has changed dramatically since I first began writing, it is still my number one
4. creative outlet. I wrote a quote when I was 17 that goes like this, "I must create. In a moment, we are either simply living or we are simply dying. Creating is the only way to escape it, the only way to be something other than dead or alive." And it is true. Writing is creating. I create because I feel it is the only escape from just living or dying. It is the "more." It is the "why." When someone creates something, they have the CHOICE to share it or not share it. That is freedom. We have the freedom to liberate what we create and birth it into something that just doesn't live or die, it IS. And it wouldn't be without us. I am so passionate about this, that my hands are shaking now as I write this. Tim Burton could have kept the idea of Edward Scissorhands in his mind, J.K. Rowling could've left the entire WORLD of Harry Potter unknown to anyone else, Van Gogh could have kept the visions that haunted him and left them to their haunting, and Stevie Wonder could've given up what he simply couldn't see. But they didn't. They created and birthed things that will never die, they have been released and no one can EVER undo it or take it back. If you have anything you were born to do, want to do, or suck at doing but love it anyway, do it. Share it. Be it. There is a number 5. I write because
5. I am a writer.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Iced coffee for days.
ok, here goes nothing or something. I am almost laughing at myself for writing a blog that has anything to do with the kitchen, because I have some seriously talented friends that can cook and bake insane things that I could only dream of creating. Alas, I have a serious addiction to iced coffee and thought I'd share with you all how I make it possible to inject this glorious liquid into my body each day. Many of my friends who have come over and had it, love and it and start making it home. It is super easy, saves money, and well, it brings people together thus making the world a more peaceful place.
1. I make a pot of extra strong coffee. I will add one scoop over the usual 1 scoop to two cups of water ratio. my coffee pot also has a "strong" button option on it that I use as well.
2. once the coffee is done, take the pot and place it on the stovetop to cool.
3. this is when I make my syrup, which I only need to make every couple weeks. take two cups of water, and two cups of sugar (honey or agave will work as well too) and heat in a sauce pain on the stove, stirring constantly until sugar dissolves. add 1/4 teaspoon of coconut, vanilla, or peppermint extract (depending on what flavor of iced coffee you want.) pour into bottles and cool. this syrup does not need to be refrigerated and lasts forever.
4. once the pot of coffee is cool, pour into a pitcher and place in the fridge.
5. once the coffee is cold, take pitcher out and give it a quick stir. pour in glass with room from cream or milk, and your syrup. I put a little 2% in mine, and my coconut syrup. give it a stir, add ice and wallah!
the pitcher will last the whole week if you have any self control with it. we love busting out an iced coffee whenever we want. I've noticed giving the coffee a stir before each time is vital to the flavor.
quite simple right? And super yummy. special thanks to my fantastic friend Jami and her glorious syrup-making skills.
1. I make a pot of extra strong coffee. I will add one scoop over the usual 1 scoop to two cups of water ratio. my coffee pot also has a "strong" button option on it that I use as well.
2. once the coffee is done, take the pot and place it on the stovetop to cool.
3. this is when I make my syrup, which I only need to make every couple weeks. take two cups of water, and two cups of sugar (honey or agave will work as well too) and heat in a sauce pain on the stove, stirring constantly until sugar dissolves. add 1/4 teaspoon of coconut, vanilla, or peppermint extract (depending on what flavor of iced coffee you want.) pour into bottles and cool. this syrup does not need to be refrigerated and lasts forever.
4. once the pot of coffee is cool, pour into a pitcher and place in the fridge.
5. once the coffee is cold, take pitcher out and give it a quick stir. pour in glass with room from cream or milk, and your syrup. I put a little 2% in mine, and my coconut syrup. give it a stir, add ice and wallah!
the pitcher will last the whole week if you have any self control with it. we love busting out an iced coffee whenever we want. I've noticed giving the coffee a stir before each time is vital to the flavor.
quite simple right? And super yummy. special thanks to my fantastic friend Jami and her glorious syrup-making skills.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
the ocean it heard of.
I wrote this for my darling husband.
the ocean it heard of.
so what if there is a love
that's bigger than the ocean it heard of
it twists and twines, always in motion
like branches folding into hearts
no end or finish or start
it found me by surprise
like a ship all alone awaiting the tide
flooded, shipwrecked, there is no surrender
only the science and silence of a bitter cold winter
the pain and the beauty become one in the same
all it can do is consume and invade
my only chance is no chance at all
inside it's eyes I find where to fall
our story begins after it's over
I stand still but it keeps moving closer
I see you now, on the horizon
The gain and the loss, it all ties in
I believe we're inside a love
it's bigger than the ocean it heard of
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
someone like me.
when I found out I was pregnant with our second child, I knew right away that the baby inside of me was "someone like me." Chris is like me in some ways, Vaelyn is too, but this baby, I knew was someone who would be a lot like me.
when we decided to name that baby Moses, we immediately thought of the nickname Cozy Mosey, and knew it would be perfect for him. and it is. as soon as he was born, he was sensitive, sweet, and very cuddly. in fact, I think he was happiest when he was just be snuggled. he also loved to eat. which is also much like me.
after a few months of trying to get to know Moses, I found myself complaining to a good friend about how needy he was. she replied, "hey! you prayed for a snuggler!" which was so very true. Vaelyn and Chris are doers, they don't stop doing unless you force them to, and I did pray for a child who would be more like me, and be ok with just laying low at home with me while Chris and Vae went and conquered the world. Moses is an answer to prayer in many ways and he has taught me a lot about myself. he loves to be loved and he loves to give love. if I go and sit on the floor, it doesn't matter what he's doing, he will stop and crawl over to me and just kiss me and hug me and slobber all over me like he hasn't seen me in days. it's the greatest feeling in the world.
there are things about "us" that are harder to handle. like when he is over-extraverted or when he is overtired or when he is uncomfortable, what he feels is so amplified, and I have a hard time calming him down or making him feel safe. I know I am the same way. sometimes I get frustrated about it and just have to laugh, because it's like I am looking in the mirror and I suddenly realize what Chris has to deal with.
Mosey also has an incredible ear for music like I do. I have lost hearing in my left ear yet can always "hear" music that other people can't, like in a loud restaurant or music coming from somewhere far away. Moses has a deep love for music, as soon as he hears it, he comes whipping around the corner to find where it is coming from, or when I am singing to him, or Chris is playing his guitar, he just stops and stares at us. he loves it so much, and to see someone so little and young respond to something he loves is just the most magical thing. Vae has that same love for flipping off of things. :)
some days are really hard, and some days I almost feel defeated in my attempt of "getting to know Moses," as my daughter wasn't nearly as hard to figure out. but there is something great about us "hard-to-figure-out" people, we are who we are for a reason. I am so grateful to have someone like me to love, someone who teaches me about myself. he is someone who I know years from now, I will be able to talk to about things and he will understand what I am feeling because he has felt it himself.
Moses Louis, he is someone who is apart of me, someone who came from me, someone who I treasure so much. He is still new, everyday he is new, and everyday I love getting to know him, my son.
when we decided to name that baby Moses, we immediately thought of the nickname Cozy Mosey, and knew it would be perfect for him. and it is. as soon as he was born, he was sensitive, sweet, and very cuddly. in fact, I think he was happiest when he was just be snuggled. he also loved to eat. which is also much like me.
after a few months of trying to get to know Moses, I found myself complaining to a good friend about how needy he was. she replied, "hey! you prayed for a snuggler!" which was so very true. Vaelyn and Chris are doers, they don't stop doing unless you force them to, and I did pray for a child who would be more like me, and be ok with just laying low at home with me while Chris and Vae went and conquered the world. Moses is an answer to prayer in many ways and he has taught me a lot about myself. he loves to be loved and he loves to give love. if I go and sit on the floor, it doesn't matter what he's doing, he will stop and crawl over to me and just kiss me and hug me and slobber all over me like he hasn't seen me in days. it's the greatest feeling in the world.
there are things about "us" that are harder to handle. like when he is over-extraverted or when he is overtired or when he is uncomfortable, what he feels is so amplified, and I have a hard time calming him down or making him feel safe. I know I am the same way. sometimes I get frustrated about it and just have to laugh, because it's like I am looking in the mirror and I suddenly realize what Chris has to deal with.
Mosey also has an incredible ear for music like I do. I have lost hearing in my left ear yet can always "hear" music that other people can't, like in a loud restaurant or music coming from somewhere far away. Moses has a deep love for music, as soon as he hears it, he comes whipping around the corner to find where it is coming from, or when I am singing to him, or Chris is playing his guitar, he just stops and stares at us. he loves it so much, and to see someone so little and young respond to something he loves is just the most magical thing. Vae has that same love for flipping off of things. :)
some days are really hard, and some days I almost feel defeated in my attempt of "getting to know Moses," as my daughter wasn't nearly as hard to figure out. but there is something great about us "hard-to-figure-out" people, we are who we are for a reason. I am so grateful to have someone like me to love, someone who teaches me about myself. he is someone who I know years from now, I will be able to talk to about things and he will understand what I am feeling because he has felt it himself.
Moses Louis, he is someone who is apart of me, someone who came from me, someone who I treasure so much. He is still new, everyday he is new, and everyday I love getting to know him, my son.
Friday, February 3, 2012
flower lightbulb bouquet.
hi friends! so, a very good friend of mine has a little sister, who is also a friend of mine and she happens to be getting married in August! Her name is Annie, and she is one exceptionally rad chick. Annie contacted me, and asked me to take her engagement photos. flattered, I accepted. when Annie had been over a few days before that, she told me all about her and her fiance's first date. she mentioned very briefly that she loved lightbulbs, and that her fiance, Ernest, had taken her to a restaurant in downtown Reno that had cool light fixtures, trying to woo her. (I think it worked) I didn't think twice about it. well, a few nights later, I woke up at 4 am and couldn't go back to sleep. I started thinking about Annie's photo shoot coming up, and like a flash, I envisioned a lightbulb bouquet made out of lightbulbs, wire, and coffee filters. I immediately grabbed my handy dandy iPhone and googled it, then checked pinterest, and too my surprise, saw nothing like what I had envisioned. I am not going to lie, I was so ecstatic, I had thought of something "new" and couldn't find it anywhere on the internet.
the next morning I told Chris about it, and he was on board to help make my vision come true. we went to home depot and bought just a few supplies and got to work. Here are some images that will explain how you can make your own light bulb bouquets!
check out a short youtube video here.
these bouquets can also be made with tissue paper or fabrics. you could even paint your coffee filters if you felt so inclined! run with it. special thanks to my wonderful hubby and to Annie, my inspiration! love to you all.
the next morning I told Chris about it, and he was on board to help make my vision come true. we went to home depot and bought just a few supplies and got to work. Here are some images that will explain how you can make your own light bulb bouquets!
check out a short youtube video here.
these bouquets can also be made with tissue paper or fabrics. you could even paint your coffee filters if you felt so inclined! run with it. special thanks to my wonderful hubby and to Annie, my inspiration! love to you all.
where we belong.
most days, I belong home. with my kiddos. teaching them all about the important things in life. like on rainy days, you watch the goonies, and lazy days, you turn into "laundry days", when you're in a rut, have an immediate Justin Timberlake dance party in the kitchen. things like that.
other days I belong in the streets, running here and running there making sure my family has what they need and frivolous tasks are getting taken care of.
sometimes I belong spending time with friends, helping friends with their babies, hanging out with other families and letting our kids figure out how to share, which is super fun, you should try it.
there is one thing I belong doing, that seems to be my favorite out of all these things. creating. how I love to create. whether it is writing, taking photos, editing photos, doing crafts, or even drawing with Vaelyn, I just love it. it soothes me, right through to my soul. and it always has.
I remember being in 4th grade, I asked for a typewriter for my birthday. all I wanted so badly was to just write and write and hear those keys punch letters into the typing paper. when I got my typewriter, I would spend hours sitting on my bed, writing short story after short story about the things that really mattered to that little girl I was. mostly I wrote about pain. the pain I felt and couldn't otherwise express but through these stories. I still have some of them, and though tears often come when I dig them out and read them, I can articulate now what I was going through at such a young age, and feel a sense of victory that only comes through growing up.
somewhere along the way, I would say high school, I really started fearing the feedback that I would get from the things I created. I almost never shared what I wrote or drew or made. and when I did, like when reading a paper aloud in English class, I shook and almost cried every time. haha, which is funny, because I am a pretty damn loud and bubbly person. (my friends say I'm a "selective extravert" which means I usually like people but can also be a total bitch at times. but I think they are thinking of the term "woman")
now I find myself realizing, I put every ounce of energy that I have into making my children feel safe and free to be who they are. if I am not operating in who I fully am because of fear of failure, rejection, or negative feedback (or no feedback), I am wasting that energy. I have a lot to learn. I have a far way to go. thinking about it even makes my heart sink. well I may feel the fear so bad my knees shake, but I'm going to keep on walking forward. and when you all see my knees shakin, don't laugh, just root me on. (or laugh, just do it behind my back)
where do you belong? I think some may argue that they don't know where they belong, or what they belong doing. I can understand that argument, as I often need a bus to hit me to help me realize things like that. but if we set aside fear and distractions, I think these things come much easier to us. I often envy people who seem to just know what they belong doing and just do it balls to the wall (what does that even mean? balls on a wall isn't a pretty picture in my mind), I am hoping to just join them. starting today.
other days I belong in the streets, running here and running there making sure my family has what they need and frivolous tasks are getting taken care of.
sometimes I belong spending time with friends, helping friends with their babies, hanging out with other families and letting our kids figure out how to share, which is super fun, you should try it.
there is one thing I belong doing, that seems to be my favorite out of all these things. creating. how I love to create. whether it is writing, taking photos, editing photos, doing crafts, or even drawing with Vaelyn, I just love it. it soothes me, right through to my soul. and it always has.
I remember being in 4th grade, I asked for a typewriter for my birthday. all I wanted so badly was to just write and write and hear those keys punch letters into the typing paper. when I got my typewriter, I would spend hours sitting on my bed, writing short story after short story about the things that really mattered to that little girl I was. mostly I wrote about pain. the pain I felt and couldn't otherwise express but through these stories. I still have some of them, and though tears often come when I dig them out and read them, I can articulate now what I was going through at such a young age, and feel a sense of victory that only comes through growing up.
somewhere along the way, I would say high school, I really started fearing the feedback that I would get from the things I created. I almost never shared what I wrote or drew or made. and when I did, like when reading a paper aloud in English class, I shook and almost cried every time. haha, which is funny, because I am a pretty damn loud and bubbly person. (my friends say I'm a "selective extravert" which means I usually like people but can also be a total bitch at times. but I think they are thinking of the term "woman")
now I find myself realizing, I put every ounce of energy that I have into making my children feel safe and free to be who they are. if I am not operating in who I fully am because of fear of failure, rejection, or negative feedback (or no feedback), I am wasting that energy. I have a lot to learn. I have a far way to go. thinking about it even makes my heart sink. well I may feel the fear so bad my knees shake, but I'm going to keep on walking forward. and when you all see my knees shakin, don't laugh, just root me on. (or laugh, just do it behind my back)
where do you belong? I think some may argue that they don't know where they belong, or what they belong doing. I can understand that argument, as I often need a bus to hit me to help me realize things like that. but if we set aside fear and distractions, I think these things come much easier to us. I often envy people who seem to just know what they belong doing and just do it balls to the wall (what does that even mean? balls on a wall isn't a pretty picture in my mind), I am hoping to just join them. starting today.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
mr. boombastic.
fear of failing. everyone has that fear, right? say yes. I am one of those people that has to self evaluate about every, I don't know, 15 seconds. I think a lot, I feel a lot, and I do those things hard. (that's what she said.)
I have a fear of failing, which often results in me not trying. or moving. or stepping out. I am slowly puttering up a hill that I think will change those things, once I reach the top and start sailing down.
puttering is better than nothing.
another thing I am currently fumbling with is remaining silent. I like to talk. to everyone. about everything. lately I am learning about relationship circles, and how I very easily put anyone and everyone in my closest circle. I don't think that is the way it is supposed to be. remaining silent is a good work out for me. brain work outs are just as exhausting as body work outs. I know, I checked, online.
so I know many of my blogs are me processing growing up and rambling on about feelings but that's where I'm at. I am growing up. I am realizing things, like I am not 17 anymore. which to you, is a very easy thing to realize about me. but inside, I will think and operate like 17 year-old Natalie, only to wake up one day and think, "whoa, I am not 17, and I have just spent a month or so thinking like I am." thinking like that girl does not benefit the life I am leading now. they should not mix, although I often let them only to look back and see the mess I created by unintentionally mixing them. but lucky for me, life goes on, life does not end once you realize your mistakes, it begins. a new life, a new day.
I am almost 26. I have been married for almost 7 years. I have been a mother for almost 4 years. these things define me, they have created a new me. I am still learning who she is, but I think I like her.
so, mr. boombastic. I really, really enjoy that song and always have.
I have a fear of failing, which often results in me not trying. or moving. or stepping out. I am slowly puttering up a hill that I think will change those things, once I reach the top and start sailing down.
puttering is better than nothing.
another thing I am currently fumbling with is remaining silent. I like to talk. to everyone. about everything. lately I am learning about relationship circles, and how I very easily put anyone and everyone in my closest circle. I don't think that is the way it is supposed to be. remaining silent is a good work out for me. brain work outs are just as exhausting as body work outs. I know, I checked, online.
so I know many of my blogs are me processing growing up and rambling on about feelings but that's where I'm at. I am growing up. I am realizing things, like I am not 17 anymore. which to you, is a very easy thing to realize about me. but inside, I will think and operate like 17 year-old Natalie, only to wake up one day and think, "whoa, I am not 17, and I have just spent a month or so thinking like I am." thinking like that girl does not benefit the life I am leading now. they should not mix, although I often let them only to look back and see the mess I created by unintentionally mixing them. but lucky for me, life goes on, life does not end once you realize your mistakes, it begins. a new life, a new day.
I am almost 26. I have been married for almost 7 years. I have been a mother for almost 4 years. these things define me, they have created a new me. I am still learning who she is, but I think I like her.
so, mr. boombastic. I really, really enjoy that song and always have.
Monday, January 23, 2012
facebook status translations.
disclaimer: please don't take any offense as I have written many statuses like this myself. :)
status: today my beautiful daughter turns 3, she has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. happy birthday baby!
translation: my daughter cannot read nor does she have a facebook account, I just want you to acknowledge how awesome my daughter is and comment so everyone else can see how awesome you think she is. k thanks.
status: man, everything sucks so bad! I hate my life!
translation: I won't tell you what is going on, just keep asking me. I just want everyone to know I am super unhappy, but not why.
status: today marks 15 years of marriage! happy anniversary husband!
translation: I totally can wish my husband happy anniversary in person, which I have and will again later, however, I won't get 25 congratulations comments, or get to rub my successful love story in other people's faces.
status: dear cold, you've outstayed your welcome. please die and go away love, me.
translation: I write little cute notes to things such as colds all of the time, don't you? anyway, tell me you hope I feel better soon.
status: I guess no one wants to hang out with me today. :(
translation: listen bitches, I feel old, alone, and done for, I need someone to not only come see me, but bring me some effing starbucks. oh and don't forget to comment about how you would if you could and ask me if I am ok, which I am clearly not because none of you give two shits about me!
status: ugh, someone named their kid Harry, yuck, really who does that?!
translation: I don't think about the fact that maybe one of you either have named or may be planning on naming your kid Harry, but just know, I feel really uncomfortable with it.
status: I hate when my friends cause drama!
translation: please get worried and comment, asking if I am mad at you, so I can affirm you that it is not you. process of elimination is really best for everyone. and still, no one will ever know who or what I am talking about, I just want you to keep wondering.
status: having some great quality time with my man, watching a movie. <3
translation: I totally have my iphone out, and I am facebooking while I am supposed to be spending time with someone I love more than you.
status: seriously reno? snow?
translation: I may have lived here for years, but the wishy-washy weather here STILL catches me by surprise! it's the oddest thing, I still just can't believe it!
status: nobody loves me.
translation: tell me how much you love me. all of you, ready go.
status: I haven't gotten any action in WAY too long.
translation: I want you to know about my lack of sex life, because it's really important to you and you may be able to help. no really, anyone want to help?
status: 2 years ago today my papa passed away, I love you papa and you'll always be in my heart!
translation: my papa is dead, I am still pretty bummed about it, comment that you are sorry for my loss or that you miss him too, and it will for sure make it easier to deal with the fact that he totally never read this status update because he's dead.
status: my kids are driving me totally NUTSO today?! is there a full moon?!
translation: who wants to come babysit because these little bastards are about to die.
status: just spent $500 at Kate Spade! everything I got was so cute!
translation: all you ladies better be jealous, because that is my one and only goal here.
status: it's that time of the month again, what JOY.
translation: my vagina and I are fighting right now, I thought you all should know. and if anyone wants to bring me chocolate, that would be great.
status: what if God was one of us? just a slob like one of us? just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home.
translation: I AM A TOTAL ASSHOLE and thought you guys might want this great song stuck in your head because it is stuck in mine. what can I say, I'm a giver.
status: I just ran 5.2 miles, I feel so good!
translation: I hope you all feel nice and fat right now.
status: today I ran 3 miles, made pancakes from scratch, went to three grocery stores, did homeschooling with the kids, got dinner in the crock, cleaned two bathrooms, vacuumed, and now I am enjoying a nice cup of coffee, and it's only 1pm!
translation: you should really comment about how incredible I am, ask me how I do it, and then feel like a complete failure.
status: my man and I just got frisky, now to do the laundry!
translation: I like to TMI you. you've just been successfully and nonchalantly TMIed. it was sneaky wasn't it? you feel a little violated don't you? you're not picturing me doing the laundry, that's for sure. sucker.
status: today my beautiful daughter turns 3, she has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. happy birthday baby!
translation: my daughter cannot read nor does she have a facebook account, I just want you to acknowledge how awesome my daughter is and comment so everyone else can see how awesome you think she is. k thanks.
status: man, everything sucks so bad! I hate my life!
translation: I won't tell you what is going on, just keep asking me. I just want everyone to know I am super unhappy, but not why.
status: today marks 15 years of marriage! happy anniversary husband!
translation: I totally can wish my husband happy anniversary in person, which I have and will again later, however, I won't get 25 congratulations comments, or get to rub my successful love story in other people's faces.
status: dear cold, you've outstayed your welcome. please die and go away love, me.
translation: I write little cute notes to things such as colds all of the time, don't you? anyway, tell me you hope I feel better soon.
status: I guess no one wants to hang out with me today. :(
translation: listen bitches, I feel old, alone, and done for, I need someone to not only come see me, but bring me some effing starbucks. oh and don't forget to comment about how you would if you could and ask me if I am ok, which I am clearly not because none of you give two shits about me!
status: ugh, someone named their kid Harry, yuck, really who does that?!
translation: I don't think about the fact that maybe one of you either have named or may be planning on naming your kid Harry, but just know, I feel really uncomfortable with it.
status: I hate when my friends cause drama!
translation: please get worried and comment, asking if I am mad at you, so I can affirm you that it is not you. process of elimination is really best for everyone. and still, no one will ever know who or what I am talking about, I just want you to keep wondering.
status: having some great quality time with my man, watching a movie. <3
translation: I totally have my iphone out, and I am facebooking while I am supposed to be spending time with someone I love more than you.
status: seriously reno? snow?
translation: I may have lived here for years, but the wishy-washy weather here STILL catches me by surprise! it's the oddest thing, I still just can't believe it!
status: nobody loves me.
translation: tell me how much you love me. all of you, ready go.
status: I haven't gotten any action in WAY too long.
translation: I want you to know about my lack of sex life, because it's really important to you and you may be able to help. no really, anyone want to help?
status: 2 years ago today my papa passed away, I love you papa and you'll always be in my heart!
translation: my papa is dead, I am still pretty bummed about it, comment that you are sorry for my loss or that you miss him too, and it will for sure make it easier to deal with the fact that he totally never read this status update because he's dead.
status: my kids are driving me totally NUTSO today?! is there a full moon?!
translation: who wants to come babysit because these little bastards are about to die.
status: just spent $500 at Kate Spade! everything I got was so cute!
translation: all you ladies better be jealous, because that is my one and only goal here.
status: it's that time of the month again, what JOY.
translation: my vagina and I are fighting right now, I thought you all should know. and if anyone wants to bring me chocolate, that would be great.
status: what if God was one of us? just a slob like one of us? just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home.
translation: I AM A TOTAL ASSHOLE and thought you guys might want this great song stuck in your head because it is stuck in mine. what can I say, I'm a giver.
status: I just ran 5.2 miles, I feel so good!
translation: I hope you all feel nice and fat right now.
status: today I ran 3 miles, made pancakes from scratch, went to three grocery stores, did homeschooling with the kids, got dinner in the crock, cleaned two bathrooms, vacuumed, and now I am enjoying a nice cup of coffee, and it's only 1pm!
translation: you should really comment about how incredible I am, ask me how I do it, and then feel like a complete failure.
status: my man and I just got frisky, now to do the laundry!
translation: I like to TMI you. you've just been successfully and nonchalantly TMIed. it was sneaky wasn't it? you feel a little violated don't you? you're not picturing me doing the laundry, that's for sure. sucker.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
benny and joon.
every once in a while, you need some encouragement. you find yourself in a serious slump, in which case I find myself in that very position as I write this. I never really felt pressure to have it all figured out, until I became a mom. now, the feeling of "I don't know what the hell I am doing with my life" suddenly has a very new affect on me then it ever has before. and yes, I can listen to my favorite music, I can watch benny and joon and drink tea, I can talk on the phone for hours with close friends, yet when things get quiet, I find myself questioning life once more and my heart begins to pound and my eyes begin to leak. what about the visions I have had? what about the dreams I have seen, they play over and over in mind. will they ever be real? I try to trust, but my trust bleeds over into wonder, then overflows into doubt.
timing is not something I know anything about. I never thought I'd get married, and I got married right out of high school. I never thought I'd have children (let alone like children) yet here I am and there is nothing I love more than being a mom. I never thought I'd live in a little city named Reno, yet it has been nothing but a sanctuary for me ever since we got here. so basically what I am saying is everything I thought, never was what was. what I am trying to convince myself of is that, everything is always ok, and even better than what I could have ever thought up myself. which sort of pisses me off.
but being in slump, it is hard to remember those things let alone live out your life like they are true. it is hard to be optimistic. I feel like someone offered me a piece of my favorite cake, and it's just sitting there in front of me, sitting sitting sitting, and not only can I not eat it, but I have forgotten how to even pick up the fork to start eating. and that just doesn't feel good. WHY WOULD IT FEEL GOOD?! THERE IS UNEATEN CAKE! once again, I find myself extremely grateful for my friends. for the friends that know me, know chris, know my kids, and I can say whatever it is I am thinking or feeling or believing, and feel safe. ah yes, that is the greatest feeling in the world I must say.
so back to benny and joon. I am obsessed right now. have you seen it? if not, go rent it right now and be prepared to get butterflies in your tummy because you've been served a whoppin heap of cuteness. that film reminds me that there is love and happiness and happy endings, and not only is it really out there, but I have it myself, with chris. he's the sam to my joon.
anyway, I feel a little better now. "you can't have your cake and eat it too." oh yes I can, and I will. all in time.
timing is not something I know anything about. I never thought I'd get married, and I got married right out of high school. I never thought I'd have children (let alone like children) yet here I am and there is nothing I love more than being a mom. I never thought I'd live in a little city named Reno, yet it has been nothing but a sanctuary for me ever since we got here. so basically what I am saying is everything I thought, never was what was. what I am trying to convince myself of is that, everything is always ok, and even better than what I could have ever thought up myself. which sort of pisses me off.
but being in slump, it is hard to remember those things let alone live out your life like they are true. it is hard to be optimistic. I feel like someone offered me a piece of my favorite cake, and it's just sitting there in front of me, sitting sitting sitting, and not only can I not eat it, but I have forgotten how to even pick up the fork to start eating. and that just doesn't feel good. WHY WOULD IT FEEL GOOD?! THERE IS UNEATEN CAKE! once again, I find myself extremely grateful for my friends. for the friends that know me, know chris, know my kids, and I can say whatever it is I am thinking or feeling or believing, and feel safe. ah yes, that is the greatest feeling in the world I must say.
so back to benny and joon. I am obsessed right now. have you seen it? if not, go rent it right now and be prepared to get butterflies in your tummy because you've been served a whoppin heap of cuteness. that film reminds me that there is love and happiness and happy endings, and not only is it really out there, but I have it myself, with chris. he's the sam to my joon.
anyway, I feel a little better now. "you can't have your cake and eat it too." oh yes I can, and I will. all in time.
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