Cotton Candy Clouds.

How many time I whisper your name. Its less then the times I think of you. I wonder where you are. I picture it in my head over and over. Are there fluffy clouds of cotton? Do you lie in them like there cotton candy, picking a piece and savoring the sweetness? Do you wear white robes? The robes soft and warm that feel like they have just come of the dryer. The faint smell of bleach and softness as you rub it against your cheek. Do you get to see us? As we busy ourselves in the world, cursing in traffic, always rushing to beat the clock. I wonder if you shake your head wishing we took a step back and enjoyed ourselves. I wonder if thats why you come in a soft wind, a butterfly that floats by, and leaves that change colors.

They are subtle yet hit us enough to be thankful for where we are. Instead of downing the coffee to keep us up we sit on the step, sipping it slowly, letting the warmth hit our insides as the fall wind covers the hills like a blanket. I wonder if you left to show us just how much we should take time to love the people that mean the world to us. How often we tuck ourselves in at night without letting our loved ones know just how special they are. I wonder if you left to show us what compassion truly is. When a frown on someone's face guides us to ask just one more time if there are okay. Pushing once more so the tears they need to cry pour out like a hard summer rain.

Maybe you left to show us nothing lasts forever but what you do to others, does live on. I love harder, fall faster, trip more then once, and dream bigger now. I take time to enjoy the little things. A shooting star dances across the sky, a Michael Buble song as my Christmas lights glisten, a dog kiss and family dinners. Its nice to know that even though your not here physically, that you still are here... everywhere.


I miss you derek. xo

Things I love... continued

Flowers

Michael Buble, Nat King Cole, Norah Jones

Fresh Strawberries

Hot shower that make your toes tingle because you were so cold

Aviators

Smell of Rain hitting hot concrete

Temperature of your bed right before its time to get up

Filling your gas tank

A song that you haven't heard in a long time

love

clean body + clean sheets

Iced coffee with 2 pumps of vanilla

paychecks

The sky before it rains

you.

Life is too short

"LIfe is too short to dance with ugly men"

I have this sign up in my room and I really haven't let it be a metaphor until now. I have never intentionally danced with ugly men, yet I have been bumped and grinded with men that fit that category, letting them know that "I have a boyfriend." But this past week, I have realized that ugly men come in more shapes, and more importantly forms, those not including looks.

I am not saying that this person was "ugly" but the way I was treated was pretty low. I am not asking for you to be at my fingertips for the entire visit, but if you barley spend any with me, are texting your ex, and not talking at all after I leave, call Natalie a bitch, but this is total douche-bag material.

Yes I am venting on a blog, but come on. My feelings are hurt. If I wasn't the only girl in the picture, and wasn't led to believe that you wanted more, I wouldn't have driven 6 hours just to find out. So ladies I suggest before driving and putting yourself on the line, make sure that you find out if he is a "handsome" on the inside as well. If he is not what you want or what you intended, tell him "Its okay," and go dance with someone else, because life is truly to short to dance with ugly men.

Doritos.

"There is a dog driving the car" --What her butt says

I am eating Doritos at 3:18 in the morning. Justifying myself that I am working overnight so it’s technically my day but still, chips nonetheless. Will I regret this in the morning, or night in the overnight lingo? Very much so, but an apple or something healthy just doesn’t sound as good. Eating the chips covered in nacho cheese heaven, I think about where these chips are going to go. I have always wanted the fat to be absorbed into my boobs, and if it did I would be bigger then Pamela, but somehow it settles in my inner thighs and stomach. These places hates exercise or anything of the sort, and wont go away no matter how many pushups or sit-ups I do.

Then I started thinking of working out. You know what I absolutely hate? The boys who do nothing and lose weight, and yes I am calling them boys because it infuriates me and I just want to diminish their feelings because of my own jealousy inside. Boys go to the gym to get big. If they don’t go to the gym they lose weight. Uh hello? Where the hell did this gene only get stuck with guys? I work out my butt off, look like a freaking pig sweating bullets, and the only thing I happen to lose is the one thing I want the most, my boobs. I work out and still have huge thighs, a doughnut around my middle, and size A cups that were once B are the only results I get. I already get made fun of my “ant hills” and now they are just going to be mosquito bites. Hmph.

I am not sure what this is supposed to teach me, but it just doesn’t help when a boy can eat whatever he wants, sit on the couch and LOSE weight. I am on the treadmill like a slave and the guy is asking his guys if he wants a beer. Yes I would like a beer or 2, or hell even 3 thank you, but can’t afford to lose the one thing that defines me as a woman. So what’s the solution? I am either going to find someone that loves all my lady lumps, or I am going to go find that gene that allows me to not feel guilty eating Doritos at 3 in the morning because I know I am losing weight. 

Peanut Butter

Peanut Butter. Before wilderness it was just something I ate with jelly. During wilderness it was considered gold and was something all of us girls looked forward to getting for the weeks rations.

Wilderness was where I was sent to because a normal 16 year old girls doesn’t have sex with a 2 year long boyfriend. I was picked up in the middle of the night, dragged to wilderness, stripped searched and given a tarp, which carried everything I would need to survive. Of the things included: powdered food (cheese, milk, butter), dried beans, 2 pieces of fruit, flour, brown sugar, raisins, granola and rice, and the glorious peanut butter which would be replenished weekly. I was quite disgusted and really didn’t think I would use an entire jar of that stuff in a week, or any of the others. I had only planned to stay the minimum of three weeks, not the 9 weeks I had no idea I was going to reside.

Three days into the journey of hell, I realized this shit was really the shit. It was a staple of existence. We rationed it carefully knowing it had to last a week. We sat like cave men watching the other girls, hyenas ready to attack if they came near. We licked every inch of the jar we could savoring every last bit. No one would trade anything for peanut butter, not even granola that was almost to the top of the favorite list. Every week they would hand out bags of food and every one of us would take the peanut butter out first and sit back and take pleasure in the first bite of the new jar.

Now years and years later, when I eat peanut butter it reminds me of how valuable it used to be to me. Usually when I eat, I do just that and move on, but when I eat peanut butter I appreciate it, letting it take me back to the wilderness days, where heaven came in a jar to the desert of hell. 

3 days

3 more days. Preparing to see someone I only dreamed of. It had ended so soon, the only man to never say he loved me. Which is the best thing that someone has never said. I think it made me see that if he really did, it would be real and not just something that rolls off the tongue. Dave Matthews, Matt Nathanson, something that drifted in the background. I remember Christmas lights danced around my room, cold air coming through the window. Driving with the windows down as music was sung, eating at a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant.

So here I am, anxious with butterflies spinning in my stomach. Painting my nails because he told me one time he liked that, finding the cutest outfits I have in my closet, daydreaming of all the right things. So three days I’m going to go and get my heart that he’s had for awhile. 

Glitter

I enjoy glitter. Not too excessive, where you look like a disco ball, but sophisticated glitter that catches the light in all the right places. I tend to wear glitter on my eyes, sometimes on my arms, and more so on my nails. It makes me feel like I truly glitter, which then instills in my insides that I am supposed to shine. So then I end up sprinkling it everywhere I go. Lights on my tree, picture frame and even a fancy ring. Its true that some girls were born with glitter in their veins

Fast Car

You've got a fast car

I wanna a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we can make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Any place is better

Starting from zero, got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself, I've got nothing to prove
-Tracy Chapman

Cat is an Annoying Child

My cat is like an annoying child. Let me state the reasons:

He may look innocent but this cat is showing the cute face

1) I was almost about to pass out in dream land when he jumps, ON MY FACE.
2) He has discovered that "crying" and running into the door (yes you hear the thud) may get me to open it
3) Lilly, my little dog enjoys sitting on my lap, or just touching me, but when the cat is in the room the dog, like a disorder,  Lilly jumps off the bed and attacks cookie, and then returns to sit on my lap. This process goes on until I have to kick the cat out.
4) Knocks over glasses with any liquid in it
5) Eats flowers that I receive (I believe its jealousy)
6) The cat started to recognize that he can knock over the water dispenser dish for the dogs. After coming home time after time with puddles I bought a plastic bowl. Well he has now discovered that when he is done drinking out of the DOGS bowl (the cat has his own water dish, but prefers the one with dog drool in it) he attempts to bury the bowl by pawing at it. He somehow manages to get the mat underneath it soaking every time I come home.
7) He is at the door right now, meowing, shaking the door handle. Thank goodness he doesn't know how to open it or I would have more problems.

Hell on Heels

I love the way high heels look. I like the way they make my legs look. I don't like the way they make me look like a penguin as I walk, or the way they make me look 3 times more drunk while spending the night on the town. I also envy the way models walk down the runways in high heels and don't fall or give the ridiculous face that I give (prime example of knoxville)

Though I have yet to fall I have come quite close numerous times. Downtown Austin is NOT made for high-heels and especially girls that 1) can't walk normally in general 2) or walk while drunk. I trip over crap daily without the help of killer footwear putting me on tiny stilts 4 inches in the air. So while wearing heels I usually do one of the two: drink more until I just can't feel my feet, or take them off and get feet that look like this by the end of the night:

Either way it isn't pretty. Yet every time I go into a store or getting ready to go downtown, I put on those dang heels of hell. One day I will fall flat on my face, humiliate myself and hopefully learn my lesson. I am not going to be lady gaga and certainly won't dress like her especially when it comes to her sense of "style" but I will still wear shoes because somewhere I have to live up to the famous words "fashion is pain". I don't do it well, trust me, but dang it is nice to have some sexy legs that go on forever, and calves that look toned.

So bring it on Darwin. Natural selection has yet to hit me. 

Butterflies.

You give me the butterflies. The kind that doesn’t just fly, the ones that swirl and do jumps and twirl about. The new red bicycle that you got when you were 4, so shiny with the big red bow. The feeling when you see puppies in the window or as you walk on the sidewalk, skipping. The feeling of a summer day, melting ice cream down your chin, cool lake breeze and sun glasses.

I want to get tangled in hotel sheets, while the window is open letting the cold air come through. Feet intertwined, sticking out at the end so they are cold, yet warm, as they get lost as one. Entranced in thoughts as the music surrounds us. Rain pouring on the roof, falling on the concrete, pitter-patter. The smell extending and merging with the fragrance of fresh shaven whiskers and cozy vanilla candles that light the room with intense passion. Eyes that give the need and desire to be alive soften, as the whispers in the ear get louder. Then all is still except, the rain, quick breathing, cool breeze, and the butterflies.

These butterflies wont stop flying. 

Changing Shoes...

Change is like wearing new shoes. It’s uncomfortable, stiff, and difficult. How many times we long to just wear the shoes that know every arch, bump, and recognize and understand how we walk, run and skip. This new shoe has no idea. Yet we don’t take time to realize that the old shoe that knows us so well was once new too, and that it took time. It had to be acquainted to who you were. You adjusted though, and just like change, future, and the rough times ahead, you will settle in and find your feet again

MmMm

Can you and I drink coffee, that steams as we sit on the porch, watching the leaves fall and the only sound that we hear is the rustling of leaves as the red robin rejoices for fall? 

Cottage Cheese...

I love cottage cheese. Not the kind that is in my butt, thighs or stomach, the kind that comes in the plastic container with the cow on the front. Low calories, pretty white color, and you can even add fruit in it. What could be better? I sat down with the entire container, my dogs drooling waiting for a bite, and I open it. Its very similar to cream cheese where when you open it, it sometimes has the liquid on the top. The yellow-ish color that you have to mix back in before spreading it on your bagel. That is what greeted me as I opened the fresh new container. Gross. It is like the guy that sneezes in his hand before shaking yours. Not the kind of first meet and greet I wanted. I let it slide and stirred it up.

I took the first bite of cottage cheese. I totally understand where they get the metaphor of cottage cheese in your butt and thighs. It made me think of all the magazines where you had to guess which celebrity had the worst cellulite of July. I should make a column “eat cottage cheese to get rid of yours”. Health Magazine, I can see you already. Anyway, I am eating this white deliciousness and start reading the container. As stated in a previous blog, while eating I can stare and read whatever is in front of me until I finish eating. It’s a habit but I started reading the ingredients in it. Basically it’s curdled milk with a better name.

I had the honor of staying at my parent’s house while they were on vacation. It had been a good three weeks since they were there. My mom who had left earlier before my dad, will throw out anything that will get stale or go bad and makes sure everything is clean for when she comes back. My dad on the other hand gets the important things done, hot water turned off, air conditioner off; cleaning out the fridge is not one of them. I decided being the golden child, to maybe clean things up a bit for when they return. I opened the fridge to find milk that should have been used weeks ago. I go to the sink and start dumping it out. Besides the clumps of white and yellow stuff, the smell was vomiting inducing. Sadly I decided that my dad would have to deal with the natural consequence and put the curdled milk back in the fridge. I can be a golden child a different time.

So here I was thinking of this incident, still taking bites. I couldn’t do it anymore. Besides the fact of thinking of the cottage cheese that was on my butt AND gross milk being poured down the drain, I couldn’t see myself putting this into my body. I now love cottage cheese on my butt, even on my thighs, but not so much anymore in the milk form.

24... almost

Dear almost 24 year old-

 Hello. How the years have gone by.

I totally remember when you were 11, having that swim party, swimming all afternoon and had a princess birthday cake. The party included girls and one boy, whom you had a crush on.

Remember Sweet 16? Your parents flew you back to Michigan. Your grandma took you and 5 girls to a resort and you swam and had a wonderful dinner? Oh yeah there was one boy there too, who had a crush on you.

I know there were some not so good birthdays too. Remember the time where you skinned your knee at you 8^th birthday? There was no boy there this time, but 2.

And what about your 18^th? You sat on your bed wanting to commit suicide and parents didn’t even see you. You weren’t allowed to see your boyfriend.

But what about this birthday? Is it a good one? Will it be one for the books? Can I guess what it will be for you?

I believe it will be just a birthday. It will be a fresh start. A birthday that doesn’t need to have a boy at the end of it. It will be a year that you will realize that happiness doesn’t come in the form of a boy; it will come in the form of YOU. I believe that smile that has been dim for a while will be bright again. I know you will still change lives and your going to find something you love to do and enjoy going to. I see that there will still be rough days, and maybe the occasional let downs, but you may find that those heartbreaks may include a happy ending. You never know. I think you should stop getting yourself down and see all the good and kind things you do for others. You have a family that loves you, 3 animals that adore you and friends that will always be there. You have a lot going for you kiddo, and I am proud of you.

And even if that may be “just a birthday” I think maybe if you make it, it could be one of the best and definitely one to put in the books.

Love –

Your birthday.

Sparkling Snow.

Nose is numb, fingertips icy.
You can see your breath every time you exhale.
Scarf wrapped up all the way over your mouth, boots keeping your feet warm.
Lights everywhere. Sparkling, as the snow that falls melts when it hits the light.
Crunching ice as you walk through the snow, holding hands with your sweetheart.
Christmas music playing in the distant, Nat King Cole serenading your ears.
Smell of apple spice, and carmel.
Restaurants dim with candle light, people inside laughing in warm navy blue sweaters eating pumpkin soup, glancing outside thankful to be indoors.
Everything glows, dim, warm, spirit filled. Something you can't grasp, yet it fills your entire body with delight.
Walking home, content, stomach filled with joy and love. Tis the season!!

I am a Mermaid

I wanted to be a lot of things growing up as a child. It all stemmed upon what I was doing at the time or what I was surrounded by. Doing dance classes made me want to become a dancer, watching ice-skating, a skater. My dad was an electric engineer and as a kid I thought that meant he drove fire trucks for a living, so I wanted to be an engineer too. A soccer player, vet, and some others were mixed in the bunch. Those were all realistic things that I could grow up to be, but one thing I wanted to be more then anything was a mermaid.

 I had been swimming since I didn’t know how to walk. Maybe that’s why I still trip upstairs but can swim like a fish. I can vividly remember the smell of chlorine and the lady who had swim classes in her back yard. She literally yelled and looked like an intimidating red piece of rawhide from always being under the Arizona sun. She always wore a cap and dark glasses and would yell, “BREATHE” and then stick your head under the water as she moved your hands in freestyle motion. I quickly learned that when she bellowed, you better breathe or you would almost die waiting for the next breath. If only I was a mermaid, I could breathe underwater and never need to come up to BREATHE.

So I knew I could swim, but I knew I would never have fins. Blame it on The Little Mermaid who became a human, I thought I could become a mermaid. I had Ariel everywhere, bed sheets, dolls, shoes, and even a backpack. If I wasn’t going to be her, at least I could sport her everywhere I went. I remember playing in the bathtub with the Ariel Barbie and just wishing more then anything I could swim and talk with Flounder and do amazing twirls out of the water.

I played in the water, doing what people may think is the worm (in my mind swimming like a mermaid), in a kiddy pool that had 6 inches of water. I would sing the famous song from the movie and try and move my hair like her. When we finally got a real pool it was as if I was really living under the sea. When I invited my friends over that’s what we played, Mermaids. We dove, sang and pretended to talk under water.

Soon though somewhere down the road we learned that there was no school, or degree achieved that you could become a certified mermaid. To this day, when I first dive into a pool, I pretend that I am, just what I wanted to be my entire life, a mermaid

Dear Girl

Dear Girl,

You have sparkle written all over you. Did you know that? When you smile, you fill the room with a shine, radiance that no one does quite like you. I see it in the every day things and the times that mean the most to you. The first sip of pumpkin spice latte, your fingers finally feeling warmth as you hold it close to your nose, smiling as if fall is right there. The girls’ night, where Cinderella Story never gets old and the handsome prince is still mouth dropping as you laugh and sip on red wine. The way you still ‘sigh’ and ‘aww’ at the cute dogs, purses, boys, and anything under ‘simply must have it category’.

That sparkle still shines even on rough days, and days where you just want to stay in bed all day, call in sick, go shopping and drain everything but your eyes. The day you find you have to work a double, where your dog pukes on the floor, and the car breaks down all in twenty-four hours. The boy who told you forever, and you happened to believe this time was real. The heartache of losing a loved one. Through all of this, even if that flicker of light doesn’t shine as bright, its still there, because you were born to be resilient.

Look that boy that broke your heart in the eye, and say “that’s okay”, because God is not letting you settle and he’s going to give you a guy that loves all your quirks, stumbles and achievements. He wont walk away when things get rough or just “aren’t working”.  Treat yourself after that double or rough day. Stay in bed 10 minutes longer, buy a cute dress just because, or hang out with a cute guy for a night. Make yourself sparkle, keep putting things, people, anything, that makes you shine and helps you extend to your full potential and leave all the rest. Because they say that when you emit happiness, other people catch on, just like a spark.

Go get em girl. I have faith in you. You’ll trip, and hell, you may even eat pavement, but you’ll work a broken nose great, and you’ll have girl’s night to laugh it off and a boy that thinks it cute when you wince as you sneeze. You’ll be fine. Know how I know that? Because I have a sparkle, a glow that hasn’t left me yet, through heartbreaks and tears, and I see it in you too, the indestructible glow.

Love-

A girl that’s still dazzling

Birthdays.

Birthdays.

Us 4 girls at my princess party :)

Do you remember your favorite? I don’t remember how old I was, but it was a princess party. I invited 3 girls. We as you may assume by the theme, dressed up as princesses. We did make up, bright red lips, rosy cheeks, and way too much eye shadow. The party wasn’t necessarily what I remember the most but it was my dad. My dad let us paint one of his fingernails, probably a very-pink-wannabe-Barbie color. I remember the laughter that projected from us 4 girls at the sight of my dad with one painted finger. My grandmother’s voice saying how silly he looked.  My siblings were young but my dad made me the center of attention that day, and I remember laughing and being the happiest I have been. He hugged me and even helped put my lipstick on, as my mother played with my hair and put it in braids. I was truly a princess that day.

In about a week I will be getting a year older, not feeling a year smarter, but definitely a year wiser. Some of the things I have learned this year is that:

Happiness comes in the form of a wagging tail.

It also comes from my mother, who even if she is 5 states away, is truly only a phone call away.

My heart is stronger then I think. It breaks, and will keep breaking, but “every breath I take proves that I can live without him”

I make a difference in people’s lives, especially kids that have needed it the most.

I still love to spend money and probably will always love a sale, no need to change something that can’t change right?

I am gorgeous at whatever weight I am at; I just need to believe it.

Once I find motivation, I enjoy running, my dogs… not so much.

My love for Christmas has grown, as my Christmas tree has been up since August.

I am still going strong with ‘bitch mode’ but have also learned that people can get hurt by what I say, even if it is the truth.

I am going to have an awesome 24^th year of my life. I have done so much already and still wanting to fill my book to the rim J

human.

 Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes: find the cause of your problem and eliminate it. Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human.

 Anthony Robbins

Sadness on a Windowpane

Some wonder what depression feels like. This is what it makes me feel:

Darkness was nothing new. Wherever you look there was cold, dreary loneliness. The rain sliding down the cold windowpane. The heart ached for a glimpse of sunlight, something to grasp, but no shadow shown. The heart felt as if a weight of a brick, with spikes of failure lay resting on it, and nothing you could do could lift it. The cold left goose bumps, the ache, an echo. Pain was getting normal, like the clock on the wall, tick tock, tick tock. Routine stayed the same, day after day. No need for expression, smile, or laughter. They say the best thing is falling down and getting back up, but the view from down below looks pretty swell. Tearing at the seam, ripping it so you’re not the only thing falling apart. Nothing lasts forever says the girl with a broken heart. Running seemed to help, as if you were fleeing from lies, tears, mishaps, disappointment. But you can’t run forever, and somehow all those things you fled from still comes sneaking back in when you lease expect it.

I step at the edge of the water; the waves crash upon my toes. The crisp water makes me feel alive but just as I feel alive, I get used to the temperature, the icy liquid beginning to numb my toes. I go further, sensing the frozen water again. Like a pattern I keep searching, keep reaching for something to be aware of, to know I am still alive, still breathing. Feeling weightless among the water, floating, moving with the current, finally feeling in tune with something.