Monday, July 29, 2013

10 frings

1. I've never colored my hair, ever. Not even highlights. Now I can't, I'm just waiting for it to get too grey, and then I'll do some funky town on the 'ol bean.
2. I've never been in a tanning bed. Thank goodness.
3. Claire, my college roommate and bf, and I were once seriously addicted to solitaire. Many, many hours wasted, classes failed because of computer solitaire. I had to quite cold turkey, and I barely came out alive.
4. I've spoken of my love of miniature things, and my love of all things weird and supernatural many times; so of course, it only makes sense that I used to collect sardine bones, teeth, and kind of dead sick thing to keep in empty Altoid boxes lined in tissue.
5. I put hot sauce on just about everything.
6. I'm pretty much obsessed with healthy eating; but I will never give up pizza, doughnuts, or McDonald's french fries. I don't even eat them regularly, and I feel sick when I do, but I reserve that God given right.
7. This was the best thing that happened to me all day. I josh you not, lights up my face like a Christmas tree.
8. I used to say that if I wasn't married by 30, I was going to become a lighthouse keeper, a cloistered nun, or the appalachian goat woman from Cold Mountain.
9. This movie is so good I was screaming at the end. Literally screaming, it was that tickling. Watch it on Netflix and tell me I'm wrong.
10. I was once upon a time in a hand bell choir. No lies, I even played hand chimes before I could work my way up to the bells. I <3 nerds.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

pin me

Here are some of ze things I have been pinning as of late:

A little throwback tune:

I used to drive around listening to this song, thinking how awesomely it would fit into a crazy, rainy car crash scene in a movie. The music video still tears me up.

And to end on a lighter the movie Butter, on Netflix. So good, so good.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

stars daisies babies King Kong

I have a bad habit of feeling empty. I try and cram, cram, cram as much in as I can. I'm a junkie for knowledge, affection, style, the internet, and wishful thinking. But, as you know, the junkie never gets enough, hence the bottomless pit.

Oh, and I do very little doing. Not enough to stretch the mind, or the body.

Bad combo, that thinking and not doing. A breeding ground for fear. Fear from all the things that could be done. Fear of never being enough. Fear that eats dreams, like Kobayashi eats hotdogs.

I've let fear tell me my whole life that there are things about me that need to be hidden, sensitive bits that were hurt long ago. But they were beautiful bits, and now sometimes I think they've rusted in their hiding places. I call them out, and they come slowly. It takes a lot of work tug the nightmares of children from the bones of sleeping adults. I personally find that talking helps; I'd probably love to talk to you, if I already don't. I'd love to tell you how I feel about the decline in population of large cats, or food, or anything in your life. I'd like to talk to you about my crazy family, and my crazy life. I'd love to talk to you about God, and about what you think your potential in life is. I'd like to comfort you, and tell you you're good. A small word, that 'good', and often underwhelming; but I find sometimes, that it if said just so, just straightforward enough, it feels clean and strong, and warm. Like old bare wood. Sometimes when I'm around adults, which I don't get to do vey often :) I talk so much I get jittery. I get a buzz off words. In fact, I'm usually quite ashamed after this, like any tipsy party girl. I talked too much, too loud, too bold. Funny things slip out when you hurt inside, don't they? And then, something strange happened as of late. We moved, and I talked, and I walked, and I stripped things away. My possessions, my family, Vida's health, our safety, bits of B's and my relationship. And I just kept feeling, like I was losing feeling. I kept seeing myself as this cup, and I was emptying out; and the fear kept filling it in with nothing. Because when nothing is inside of you, it becomes something. And I jut kept praying that I would get filled up. I prayed that I would be filled with things that would make me a better me. That's all. It was like a crucible; sometimes we do have to burn it all down.This time it was so intense it was like nothing was holding me here; here on earth. I just waited, and felt ok with waiting. And I kept thinking this should feel scary, but it didn't. It just felt like a bubble; quiet, and muffled, full of space, and at the same time so taunt, so precarious. And then the bubble must have popped, because I'm back. And I feel it; I feel my life inside of me. So now I'll do, I'll do something for a while, and then I'll probably cycle back through some other interior passageway. I love to take adventures inside myself, it's like Magic School Bus up in this hizzy everyday. I highly encourage you try one sometime.