Sunday, October 31, 2010

WARNING: long, inane post. Get comfy...

Thursday was my mimi's birthday. (yep, that's what we call her... are you thinking what I'm thinking? About the song about grandmothers? If so, like woah <--click)

To celebrate, we met her in Charlotte.
We got up early for the drive. Surprisingly, I was semi-peppy for it to be 6:15 a.m.

{Daddy made coffee (to be specific, cappuccino). That drug is amazing. I am such an addict. I hope they don't outlaw that bean.
Oh the horror of that thought. I can do without it, but the hordes of addicts would NOT be fun to face. Headaches, hysteria, and horror would result.}

Upon arriving in Charlotte, our first stop was the Billy Graham Library (pic from nytimes):

I was expecting books and plush chairs in front of a huge fireplace.

Not so. This "library" had a false name.

It was more like a museum of Billy Graham's life and ministry.

Some of the stuff on display was incredible. Among the honorary doctorates, the certificate of  knighthood, and various awards of recognition from all over the world, one thing really stuck out to me. (aside from B.G.'s amazing testimony for God)

Bono wrote him a poem!
Here's how it went:

“The journey from father to friend
is all paternal loves end.
it was sung in my teenage ears
in the voice of a preacher
loudly soft on my tears
I would never forget this
melody line
or its lyric voice that gave my life
a rhyme,
a meaning, that wasn’t there before.
a child, born in dung and straw
with The Father's love and desire to explain
how we might get on with each other again….”
for The Rev. Billy Graham (that preacher)
Ruth and all the Graham Family
from Bono (March 11 2002)
with much love and respect….

Aww, isn't that sweet?

(I really appreciate poems.
Unless they're stupid.
Like William Carlos William's The Red Wheelbarrow...look that one up )

I was surprised at some of the stuff that was saved and on the case for his wife's engagement ring, various papers and books...

It's a confirmed fact that the Grahams were pack rats. His wife wrote a book about it.

I've resolved to save supposedly insignificant things. One day, they will be placed in my museum for thousands of people to observe from behind glass. Just in case. You never really know.

...kidding...a museum isn't as much my style. A big statue or monolith floats my boat. Something like the Lincoln memorial...

But seriously, I was encouraged to see how God used this one man to spur on a huge revival.

After filling our noggins with Billy Graham trivia, we went to a cute and quirky french bakery called Amélie's in the arts district:

(I bet you already knew that. If not, now you do)

The atmosphere was great. The pastries were by no means terrible. The ultra dark coffee with real cream (no fake powder-y stuff here!) complemented nicely. The soup was wonderful too.

Many of the people who decided to frequent this place were "unique". It was almost like they were putting on a show.
One lanky guy, wearing a gray hooded sweater (with the hood up), ray-bans, and a five o'clock shadow, looked shifty. Not "up to no good" shifty, but "I'm a cool guy and I want to look like I'm doing something incognito" shifty.
I could go on telling you about the different peoples, but this is getting to be a LONG post, so I'll move along.

One thing I hate about Charlotte is that the roads are CONFUSING. Lanes suddenly drop. Lanes strangely appear. Roads are not called the names that appear on the GPS.

The GPS was confused. Poor thing. But she was still bossy about it, so I didn't feel THAT bad for her.

After our leisurely lunch, we could not possibly leave the area without visiting Ikea.

If you've been keeping up with my posts (I don't expect you to), you'll know that I'm redoing my room. It's bright green
(the color of creativity, my aunt says)
and the hardwood floor is in as of yesterday. w00t!

I decided to take mental notes at Ikea. Ikea seems like the place to be to get inspired.

Walking through the maze of rooms, I was inspired.

I want a closet like the ones on display. I sighed with envy for the pretend ikea people who get to enjoy such well-organized storage. (I don't envy that they have strangers going through their house daily and inspecting every nook and cranny.)
You know how many clothes I could fit into one of those closets?  It's a nice number.

So, basically, I wanted to buy a whole bedroom suite from that inexpensive, yet well designed store. But we decided to wait and actually measure the space I have available. Acting on impulse is not always the smartest thing.

I ran (erm, sped-walked) through the maze of store twice. That's one problem with ikea: they are so controlling about where you can and cannot go. Follow the arrows, they say. Follow like a drone.

Backtracking to find an item is crazy.

I found a lapdesk on display, and found out it was at the BEGINNING of the store. We were getting ready to check out, and I reeeallyy wanted that lap desk. Finally, after getting slightly lost a few times, I found it and bought it.

Then we daintily ate princess cake in the ikea cafe.

It was a beautiful day weather-wise too. I hate the cold weather, but the trees are positively mesmerizing this time of year.

Are you still reading? I think I would have given up by now...

Friday I ran 6 miles. It was a brisk, crisp day.
Then, I went to my friend's house and met her other fabulously fun friend.

We ate dinner, and left to get good seats for:
The theater was arranged in such a way that there were no bad seats.
The production was GREAT. I was impressed. {Although, I forgot how much innuendo Shakespeare put in his plays. It wasn't horrid, but still surprising...)

Afterwards we went to Goodberry's. Heath bar sundae. Score.
It was a lot lot lot of custard happiness.

Can you tell that I'm running on little sleep? I'm going to look back at this post in wide-eyed wonder...

...we stayed up until 4ish. We got up 8:30ish
sleep does sound good. But I want to finish recording memories here.

At 9, my parents came. We went to celebrate my grandaddy's 70th birthday!
They cooked some good steak.
As is usual when visiting my dad's parents, I was utterly stuffed full of food.
My grammy is the type to offer food repeatedly, telling you that you need it or it won't hurt to have a bit more. It's a sweet trait...

It was fun to visit with them. We came up with some crazy career paths for me to take...

After eating, I felt like the granddaughter/grandparent roles were reversed. My parents and grandparents were talking, and I nodded off while sitting on the couch. I couldn't seem to keep my eyes open. I dozed for a few minutes. AT LEAST I didn't snore.

The lack of sleep was WORTH IT. So worth it. Whenever I miss out on precious shut-eye, it's always for a good reason.

...I am dragging here.

I really should sleep.

oooh, I bought some white face cream. I'm dressing up tomorrow for the fall festival at my church.

Okay, I'm getting slower and slower at typing. My eyes keep closing, and my spelling MUST be suffering, not to mention the high likelihood of atrocious grammar errors. Four hours of sleep will do some crazy things to you.


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Drizzle, drizzle, drizzle

This morning, everything was gray and drizzly.
I'm not big on gray and drizzly.

When the weather gets like this, I just want to curl up with a blanket, a good book (and some PG tips) and read.
Today, I had a few potentially interesting (and yet unread) classics on my shelf, so I was all set...
...but then we decided to run out and look at the shoe sales...
I ended up with a new journal, $10 chucks, and an "eco-friendly coffee cup". All wonderful items that made my day sunny.

So, the other day, we (my family) were discussing my sister's t-shirt.
Pictured on it are two wedges of cheese and a cheese grater. One cheese is being grated, the other stands (?) in horror shouting, "You Monster!", to the grater, I suppose.
Well, you can kinda see for yourself:

Asking what character my sister most closely identified with, she responded that she was like the talking cheese, because the cheese was cute.
This started a silly debate.
We determined that she WAS the grater, but just didn't like to admit it. She's nobody's victim, try as she might to look "cute".
I laughed and laugh still.

My other sister is to the point, she gets the job done. Like a hammer.
Both can be cheeses though. *wink-wink*

I was told that I'm like a fan with sharp metal blades.
Sharp metal blades that can cut off appendages.

BUT, I do have a safety grille covering the blades, so you have to do a bit of work to get hurt...
That's comforting, right?

Oh, yes...inanimate object psychology.


Perhaps I'll go for a quick run today.

I went running yesterday. It was beautiful outside. I appreciated the bright orangey yellow, and brown-red of the leaves of the changing trees. They were absolutely aflame with color.

It was a warm humid day and the sun was very bright. The kind of bright that requires squinting.

I was about a mile and a half from the house when I heard the thunderclap.
Then the floodgates opened.
The wind picked up. It was blustery and felt fabulous.

The downpour became stronger. The rain started coming in sideways.

The falling leaves swirled around me in the strong gusts of wind.

{You know how in movies that "sudden rainstorm" happens? I thought that was a made up thing or a very rare occurrence. Who gets caught unawares like that? Apparently, it does happen. It's fun.}

When I arrived home, I was positively drenched and my shoes were squelching with the water.

Overall, it was an agreeable experience.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Morning has broken...

This morning has been great so far.

 Here are the facts:

Fact #1: I slept in late.

There is no better way to start the morning. There was no alarm to rudely awaken me out of deep sleep. No reason to groggily get out of bed and fumble for the snooze button.

Sleeping in can also be one of the WORST ways to start your day. Especially when you have somewhere to be at the ungodly hour of 7:15 am...
Luckily for me, I didn't have anywhere to be, so I slept and slept. What bliss!

If you know me, you know that


This morning however, I was peppy. Considering that it was around 11:30 that I finally decided to roll out of bed.

Hey, don't judge. I'm only going to be a kid {and irresponsible} for a few more months... I'm enjoying it while I can.

Fact #2: I cooked a yummy breakfast.

It is a well-known fact that breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day. 

The other important meals  are second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and (later in the evening) supper.

This morning, breakfast was scrumptious and an instant mood-enhancing meal.
I fried some italian sausage, sautéed onions, and made a fritatta with feta cheese.
(fritattas are the new omelets, but prettier and more fun to make)

I like cooking. When things turn out, it makes me happy. When other people can ingest and actually enjoy the food I've made, it increases the happy meter too.

I do not like baking. Baking is NOT my thing. If you want cake or cookies, ask my sister. She's good with such things. (I always like to peek in the oven, which results in flat cake. meh.)

My mom is an amazing cook. She has the gift of being able to throw just about anything together and it ALWAYS turns out savory and delish. I'm glad she's sharing her secrets.

Fact #3: I acted as a barista.

No, not a barrister, but a coffee maker. Cappuccinos. mmmm. C'mon, it's Saturday.
Then one of the chickens got out of the pen and we had to chase her around the yard...which made for some excitement.

A bit later, I'm going to a costume party (!) which makes the day even better. 

 Happy Saturday!!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

caffeine! yay yay yay!!!!!!

Oh yes! Daddy bought coffee beans for the cappuccino maker...

Oh but don't worry about me. I'm not falling off the bandwagon. Nope.

Like Mark Twain said [insert coffee for smoking]:

"Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it thousands of times."
I'm good. Really.

Changing the subject.

I'm learning some new songs for the guitar. I'm stoked about that. Now if I could only get my voice to cooperate. Pesky cough.

Speaking of singing,
have you heard of  Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir? (click on his name to visit one of his youtube videos)
Well, my friend who shall remain nameless {just know that she's awesome} talked me into singing a part with her.
This is going to be fun. Look for my tiny picture in the upcoming video. *wink*

And now I will leave you with an anecdote that reflects my great-aunt's personality:

My great-aunt Louise was in the kitchen with my mom, my aunt, my great-uncle, and me. 
I had been serving cake and coffee.
 My mom called me "her little Martha" [referring to the woman in the Bible]. 
My great-aunt doesn't miss a thing. She said, "she is an awful lot like Martha Stewart, isn't she?" 
We just smiled. 

Monday, October 18, 2010

Something to Ponder...

In the 1720's, Isaac Watts wrote this hymn. Its theme convicts my American laid-back-apathy...

Am I a soldier of the cross,
A follower of the Lamb,
And shall I fear to own His cause,
Or blush to speak His Name?

Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?

Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?

Sure I must fight if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord.
I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy Word.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

In which I simply whine, so there is no use in reading...

Utter failure.
I'm beating this cold, but I've had a relapse.
I *cannot stop* sneezing.
This is craziness.
3 sneezes in a row, then 15 sneezes in a row.
Daddy was great to have made me hot tea. As I thought I was done with the sneeze fit, I started to drink my tea. Then it hit.
I stood there paralyzed. I was going to sneeze while holding a very full cup of steaming goodness. I held it off as long as I could but...

Luckily my tea didn't spill all over, but it was a mess.

This cold is evil.
I can't go to church this morning because I feel so crummy and I don't want to risk sneezing and coughing on everyone.
I've popped benadryl and cold-symptom reliever. I've waited for it to take effect. It's been an hour, and there is no change.


I'm whining. Sorry.

Major bummer. MAJOR.

I guess I'll go sleep it off. Apparently my letters to this virus did no good.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Day 2 of sickness...

Dear cold germ,


Nobody likes you.

Especially me.

The effect you have on my respiratory system is terrible. You make my head feel like it's in a fog. You may be a microscopic germ, but boy you pack a big punch.

I'd make this letter longer and rant-ier, but I'm tired. I need sleep, some hot tea, and a box of Kleenex.

You don't listen to me anyways. This means war. I know I'll win.



Thursday, October 14, 2010

A Message for my Cold

Dear Bad Germs,

Please oh please, I beg you, go AWAY. While you make a good song for Disturbed, I really don't want to be "down with the sickness".

You are trying to ruin my life? I see how it is. It won't work.


I will survive. I'll do plenty of productive things -- even if you decide to stay around.


Monday, October 11, 2010


At 1:00 :

The first coat of green is up on my walls!
Oh boy, it is GREEN. Practically neon.
It's going to take multiple coats to subdue it into a more natural tint.

I've learned how to spackel. What a fun word. Though don't be fooled, it can be a frustrating action.

Ripping up carpet is fun, but removing tiny staples from the floorboards is not.

I'm lucky that my sister Jess is such a staple-pulling machine.

Time for apple cornbread with lentil stew. Yum.

I don't think I want to be a professional painter. It is sheer craziness. BUT my room is a nice green now.
(*happy dance*)

now back to work...

They don't show all of this time-consuming labor on those HGTV shows. I thought this would take an hour, since that's how long most of those decorating shows run.

I was wrong.

8:00 :

So, I made money today. 

Okay, okay, it was only a penny. 

A dirty penny wedged in the floorboard. 

A penny saved is a penny earned, right?  


I ripped out some baseboard in the closet. As it was being yanked from the wall, the layers of previous paint colors shone through. 

My house is from 1975, which I guess explains why they chose odd colors for the baseboard. 

I thought trim was always supposed to be white. I was wrong. 

Apparently, things were pretty funky in the 70's. 

  1. A layer of red.
  2. A layer of (ewww) carolina blue. 
  3. A layer of a weird green-yellow. 
  4. A layer of cream yellow.


Never underestimate a hammer and crowbar. 

As an aside: 

I'm loving my tunes. Shuffle is a wonderful thing. I like how my songs transition from epic tranquility to crazy upbeat rhythm. 

After absorbing the genius of musicians all day, I think there should be a national day when everyone may only sing. (auto-tune doesn't count.) 

AND IF someone disobeys and talks, well...
...they'd have to...

 I can't think of a good punishment.

The point of this holiday is for everyone to be merry and happy.

Tra-la-la-ing through the day. Like this dude:

Oh, well, maybe not such a good idea after all... hmmm


I win.
Not that it's a competiton or anything.

...but I still win.
You lose.
"Lose what?", you may ask.
Two words:

The GAME. 

Well, it's been a full day. I'm tired.
I'm turning down Ty's offer of joining his house makeover crew.


Saturday, October 09, 2010


I now know why white is the color of insanity. Today I almost went insane.

My bedroom has been going through a major overhaul. We are ripping out the flooring, repainting, putting in crown's like HGTV decided to come over for a visit.
My dad is revamping the bathroom, too. It's gorgeous (and purple!)

So today, I painted the primer on my walls.
I'm a messy novice painter.
(Luckily, it didn't matter if I got the paint on the carpet, since that carpet will be leaving soon.)

I'm a sight to see.

My jeans look like abstract art.

I'm going to sell them for a large sum of money. Because they are, after all, one-of-a-kind.
(can you believe that I've had these jeans for 5 years? Those are tough jeans. Random fact #43)

The best way to paint:

I put in my earbuds, set my ipod to shuffle, and went for it.

Roller-ing walls is fun when you're singing.

Hey, everything is fun when you're singing. Even math. Hence why musicals are so popular.

After two and 1/2 (odd how that can work out) coats of paint...
The walls are WHITE. 

None of the walls in my house are white.
I always took this for granted.
My parents are artistic, creative people, but I never appreciated it until now.

Looking at the primed, blank, empty, dull, colorless, void, white walls, I started to feel insane. Who would want to live in a room where the walls stimulate no imagination??

The cones and rods of my eyes were BORED. I even held up some awesome posters to the walls, and the posters started to look drab.

Was this all in my head?? To help myself out, I Googled. According to Yahoo(!) answers, white is the color of insanity. Yahoo! Answers should know, right? dad says white is the color of insanity too.
He's an architect.
Architects know such things.

I'm glad that tomorrow my walls will be painted PEA POD GREEN!
It will be beautiful.

Also, I think that this post is slightly off. I'm feeling loopy. It must be the white walls taking effect...

Friday, October 08, 2010

Moving on...

Coffee is a thing of the *not so distant* past.

Now, give me a cup of P.G. tips tea with a spoon of honey and a dollop of cream, and I am happy as a lark.

[P.G. is the best tea. Period. Try some. If the English know anything, it's that good tea is high priority.]
See, even cute sock monkeys like it.

{I didn't mean for this to sound like an advertizement, but sadly, it does. Too bad I get no sponsorship from P.G.}

Thursday, October 07, 2010


I have a fear of writing papers.
Rather, I dread it.

Yet, somehow I have a blog.

This I do not understand.

On another note, I was quite loved at yesterday night's kids club. My church has started one that meets on Wednesdays. We pick up kids from the nearby apartment complexes, feed them dinner, teach them Bible lessons, then help with homework or create crafts.

...I was like a human was fun.

But really, it is a rewarding task, hanging out and establishing relationships with these kids.
They are hungry for attention, and I am more than happy to oblige; listening to their stories and giving piggy back rides.

Right now,
I am loving the
acoustic, indie, singer-songwriter, chill sound.

A few months ago, I was obsessed with the Rat Pack and Michael Bublé.
I had my Beatles fetish. You think those girls in the 60's had Beatle-mania?
Well, they had nothing on me.

But now, I am "in like" with soothing strains.

It'll change soon.
I'm always on the prowl for new sounds.
Let me know if you would suggest anything positively ah-mazing.


As far as academia goes...

Geometry is teaching me to become the mistress of the OBVIOUS.
When I'm working the problems, I feel like I'm being too simple.

See, I skipped geometry, did algebra I & II and then Precalculus.
In order to round out my high-school transcript I have to get in my Geometry credit.

To put it simply, I don't like it.

(It is way better than Physics, so I won't complain too much.)

I'm starting a trend.

My right hand has long fingernails. (which I DO keep groomed)

In sharp contrast, my left hand has short nubby nails. (since you can't push down on a fretboard with fingernails in the way.)

I've picked up playing the guitar again.  It is a beautiful instrument. One of the best sounds.
NOTE: I am not meaning to say that that my playing is one of the best sounds, but that the instrument itself has some amazing sounds.

I've learned that my fingernails are the best for finger-picking songs. Much better than metal claws.

So, I have strange looking hands.

It'll catch on. 


Believe it or not,
I'm an honor student. 

I'm a geek and proud of it. 

I'm going to be re-inducted into the eta sigma alpha xi zeta chapter tonight...
I need to be there so I can socialize with smart people, and maybe they'll rub off on me.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Save Me

Am I really living
Or am I just existing
Hiding away

The world is full of danger
But if I never try to go outside
My heart will waste away

Come and save me
You’re the only source of all the peace I need
Come and save me

You tell me life will not be pain free
What will be will always be in your control
Darkness is light to you
And all you ask me to do
Is trust what you say is true

You are stronger
Than any terrible possible scenario today
Come and save me
You’re the only source of all the peace I need
Come and save me

~J.J. Heller

I wish I could take credit for this song. My music was on shuffle and this song came on. 
It was striking. 

It made me ask, "Am I living?" 

I was reminded that God is my strength and He calls me to live. 

To top it off He freely gives the peace and courage to live

GOD, who made everything, from the smallest atom to the galaxies that make Earth seem like a speck, LOVES ME. 

I cannot even sustain my own life. 

 I am totally dependent on Him for every breath. 

It makes everything I do "on my own" look ridiculous.

The crazy paradox is that He loves everyone with this intensity. 

I can't comprehend this. 
When I do try to get it, I put Him in human perimeters.  I think in terms of market value. Surely He must love some more than others...nope.

The truth is, we are all His favorites. What a thought. 

Hey you, reading this sentence. God loves you. He wants to be close to you.

This is a sweet passage (Isaiah 43, God speaking): 

       "Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
       I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

             When you pass through the waters,

       I will be with you;
       and when you pass through the rivers,

       they will not sweep over you.
       When you walk through the fire,

       you will not be burned;
       the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD, your God,
       the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;

 I give Egypt for your ransom,
       Cush and Seba in your stead.

 Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
       and because I love you,

       I will give men in exchange for you,
       and people in exchange for your life.

       Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
       I will bring your children from the east
       and gather you from the west.
             I will say to the north, 'Give them up!'
       and to the south, 'Do not hold them back.'

 Bring my sons from afar
       and my daughters from the ends of the earth-
       everyone who is called by my name,
       whom I created for my glory,
       whom I formed and made."

Woah. God astounds me.

The problem of being an Owl

I am nocturnal. 
I don't understand it. 
My brain begins to wake up when most other people are winding down. 
I am much more productive after the sun has set. 
...much to the chagrin of those I live with. 
When I roomed with my sister, it drove her INSANE. Right as she was ready to turn out the light, I would begin working on a project/pondering problems and coming up with solutions. 

She didn't get it. She just wanted her sleep. Poor thing. 

For me, nighttime has a magical feel to it. I can focus, there are fewer distractions. All is still and quiet. 

The world sleeps. 

Part of my nocturnalallity (?) may stem from the fact that I'm super-focused. At night I can be focused. 

I never see the forest, 
                 always the trees  
                       (more like the leaves on the trees, or the individual bark flakes.) 

  {I was the kid in school who NEVER finished my in-class kindergarten coloring page assignment. (My teacher talked this over with my parents a time or two) And it wasn't that I was ADD or ADHD or simply not doing the work. I was working, but I was getting so engrossed in my work, that I couldn't stop. I didn't know where to stop. Art is never finished, it seems. 

I also have certain perfectionistic tendencies, so that doesn't help much.

Anyways, after that carrot in a cookie jar...}

Yet for all of the productivity, clarity, and focus I get at night, mornings are the inverse. 
Anything requiring more than basic motor skills is beyond me.
Ask those who know me. 

I digress. I'm sure there are plenty of other focused night owls out there. Maybe someone will help me to understand my issue.

So, I took a personality test. 
Silly, I know. 

I think it automatically classifies you in a certain category for even taking a personality test. (I will say that this personality test was legit. Not some facebook quiz. It was something like 100 questions long. It was also certified by the college board. So.) 

According to this test I am: 

and according to the personality profiler, (I shouldn't listen to such things, I know) I am a "director". 
It said: 
ENTZs are competitive, ambitious, commanding, and organized. You have an inquisitive and adventurous spirit. You do not like to be confined by strict rules or limitations on your freedom. 
Interpretation: Bossy. 

Aw, come on guys. I'm not that bossy right?

Ahem. I'm not discussing this further. Be quiet. 

I feel embarrassed for posting this up on my blog. But not too many people read this, so I think I'll be ok for admitting that yes, I am a teensy bit bossy. It must come with being the oldest child in my family...

Also, I don't know why they decided to capitalize certain letters for ENTZ. 


So I was listening to JJ Heller's album Painted Red. She is fabulous. Her music is chill. 

Also, I took a love language test. It's neat to ponder. 
Everyone has a way they like to receive love. (and I'm not just talking romance) 
Everyone has a way of showing love. 

So, for me, if you want to show love, you will buy me lots of presents. Preferably expensive ones from Tiffany's.
Gifts are my language.


My love language isn't gifts. 

Still, giving me a present never hurts... 

Hey, if you want to know your love language, you can take a preliminary quiz by clicking love language test

If you haven't read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I'd suggest it. 

Okay, that's my two cents for tonight.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

A Message for Summer

Hey Summer,

It feels like it has been a while. Where'd you go? I thought we were getting along wonderfully.

Autumn is drab and cold. Winter and I are NOT going to be friends, I already know.

I miss your warmth and sunniness.

Can you come back soon?

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