I have to. She's TOO good.

I adore her.
Seriously, if you're not converted, just give her a chance. Start with The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill-every song is incredible. If you still need convincing after listening to "Doo Wop (That Thing)...I have nothing to say to you. If you're an unbeliever after "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You"...well, you have bigger problems than Lauryn Hill or I can treat. And the runs she does on Tell Him-they're still boggling my mind and I've heard them no less than a thousand times, so that should say a little something. She is so deep and wise and real and passionate-and her vocal chords are constructed from the same material as the clouds in heaven. That is cold hard fact. After The Miseducation, move on to MTV Unplugged...I am still grasping it. AGHDFASDH! Stop reading this and listen! She blows my mind. On a consistent basis.

mmm. Lauryn. I'm convinced we met in the Pre-existence.

Lessons from Linus and Lucy

Lucy:Linus, you've got to get rid of that stupid blanket, and here, memorize these lines.
Linus: I can't memorize these lines. This is ridiculous.
Lucy: Memorize it and be ready to recite when your cue comes.
Linus: I can't memorize something like this so quickly. Why should I be put through such agony? Give me one good reason why I should memorize this.
Lucy: I'll give you five good reasons.
[proceeds to make a fist out of her fingers]
Lucy: One, two, three, four, FIVE!
Linus: [begins shaking his head emphatically] Those are good reasons. Christmas is not only getting too commercial, it's getting too dangerous.
Lucy: And get rid of that stupid blanket! What's a Christmas shepherd gonna look like holding a stupid blanket like that?
Linus: Well, this is one Christmas shepherd who's going to keep his trusty blanket with him.
[Lucy raises her fist to strike Linus; Linus puts his blanket over his head like a headdress]
Linus: See? You wouldn't hurt an innocent shepherd, would you?

Christmas is getting too dangerous-I'm beginning to approach it with more and more caution every time: 3 years in a row, sick as a dog. I guess I should invest in a trusty blanket.

He Knows What's Up.

Some favorite Brennonisms as of late:

• Playing UNO, as he looks at the pile: "What are the options?
• After sticking a tissue entirely up his left nostril: "The tissue catches it when the stuff falls out of this pipe."
• About Mom's clam chowder: "Remember the last time I tried this? I did not like it, Mom." Dad insisted he try it again-he put a dribble up to his mouth and was already gagging. When Dad yelped, "Put that whole big bite in your mouth!", little obedient Brennon put it in-but didn't make it much farther. The poor child regurgitated it back into his bowl and Dad determined that he could be done. I guess he knows what he's talking about.


• He led the songs for FHE tonight-with a KNEX stick. He's headed straight for the symphony, seriously-he pointed to everyone with different flourishes on "Here We Are Together" and bobbled to the beat of "O Come All Ye Faithful." I wish you could see it.


• "I'm just going to play some lovely Christmas music on the piano." He then proceeded to play and sing moving renditions of "Jingle Bells" and "Picture A Christmas"- I went in the piano room and he was swaying in the dark. Music is in his blood and guts, I guess-a boy after my own heart.

*I'm going to be better about remembering and recording these. Many more to come, I'm sure.

• When some people came to bring us Christmas treats last night: "You're letting all the cold air in!"
• The last seconds on the Christmas phone call with Garrett: "Garrett, I'm sorry. I have bad news. It's bad. I'm sick. (coughs) I have a cold." (This is totally made up, by the way.) Other made up injuries include a "leg that was kind of having a problem" for which he constructed a crutch from a wrapping paper tube, and a "cast" made from folded knee pad and rope. "Brooke. I can't move this arm." Me: "Why not?" Brennon: "Ummmmmm...it's broken."
  
• Singing "Deck the Halls" to Garrett on the phone: "Bon feshow our day of herald..." (don we now our gay apparel)
• Dad: "What are you going to do if Santa can't bring you your Star Wars ship?" Brennon: "Try not to bawl." Dad: "What if you can't?" Brennon (thinks for a minute): "I'll just try not to whine."

Only the Beechers Can Manage Choking and Giggling in the Same Five Minutes.

Family: isn't it about time?

Yeah baby.

The less likely things to love about BYU.
Everyone already knows I love all the child brides and creepy RMs. These are the less likely things to love about BYU:

1. The booths in the Wilk. All the people handing me flyers and free candy, I feel like a celebrity! Yesterday I walked out of that place with vitamin water, an apple, and two mini Twix. Serious.
But those booths are good for more than complimentary teeth rotting and tree killing. They make me feel in the know. I let everyone give me their spiel-I know all about summer camp counseling, divine comedy this weekend, and supporting art education with little handmade Christmas cards. People are doing cool stuff at this place-I love learning about it. If I could only snag a free t-shrit...

2. The library-and its many functions. Where else can you sleep, scope, and study all in one stop? I've positively mastered the art of sleeping in the library. Periodicals, first chair to the right-I lay my head down and emerge exactly twenty minutes later every time, a new woman. I need to get me one of those chairs! I hear all the best scoping happens in Periodicals, too-I mean, really-I can't even count the times boys have left their numbers by my drooling mouth in hopes that I might consider them when I awake.
Also-the library is pretty. The Christmas decorations, glass ceilings-I remember the first time I went in there and how I felt about it. I think that's when I first starting believing in love at first sight...
I love to peruse the positively ENDLESS collection of books. One time I went there for a book on Jane Austen and the body. Not Jane Austen-Jane Austen and the body. They had rows and rows and rows!! Although I was less than giddy about having to sift through all of them-not to mention the fact that it's ridiculous that so many authors have so much to say about Jane Austen and the body-it makes me giddy to think that there's THAT much there. I wish I had a million years just to read every work in that place. Ahhh, I'm salivating.
However, I'm just realizing that this is kind of oxymoronic-here I am writing about how much I love and adore the library and it's finals week and what am I doing? Not studying in the library-blogging about the library. I guess it's a step in the right direction.

3. Making fun of the smell of the MARB. Not the actual smell of the MARB-no, that is a ghastly topic I prefer not to discuss-making fun of it. That stench seriously almost kept me from taking Brother Bott's mission prep class. When I saw that it was in the MARB I tried to honestly and objectively ask myself: "Is it worth it? Will you really be able to ignore that terrifyingly horrific aroma of old people for two whole hours every week?" I'll never get over it. I avoid that building like the plague! Probably because there is an actual plague IN that place. Freak.

4. The fashion range. You got your zoobies and your fashionistas, your to-the-ankle velvet numbers and your leggings with...wait, a shirt? Wait, when did pants become unnecessary? Don't get me on a modesty soapbox. Best of all is when these two meet up-for a second they both consider adopting an element of the other's style (Velvet leggings? So fetch) and then look each other up and down with that "poor unfortunate soul" kind of glance. I stop to watch every time.

Oh, there are so many more-I want to hear your favorites. GO!

Autumn Leaves (yes, it inevitably does)

I don't know what to do when the leaves haven't fallen by December 9th.
They were so fun to crunch in October, and I was so happy that the snow hadn't taken them away yet in November, because I wanted to keep jumping and crunching and watching them swirl in wind.
They're supposed to be long shriveled up by now, gone away-to make room for whatever snow/slush junk is deciding to fall from the sky this winter. Instead, they're just there, oddly amid the Christmas lights on University Avenue and not quite stuck to the sidewalk, caked in ice-but no longer fit for crunching. They can even make you slip, if you're not careful.
Autumn leaves.
It's inevitable-I was so thrilled when I got what I thought I wanted, thought it was staying-but really, it's been gone for a good while now.

I feel like those leaves.

i'm just now discovering this??

freak, where does time go?
my 9 o' clock = canceled. such a pleasant surprise! i planned to spend it studying.
er whatever...and then ended up on facebook and blogger.
now it's..9:50. WHAT?


i feel like i never have time for anything. this, surprisingly, includes eating.
i think that means something is amiss in my life. who doesn't have time to eat? what could you POSSIBLY be doing that is more important than eating? maybe i need to do things that are essential to my survival and take facebook off that list.
oy.

Apparently I Don't Know Much About Married Life...

Dad and mom are having a tiff because mom doesn't want dad to bring his recliner up to their bedroom because she'll "never see him again" but dad argues that mom doesn't ever want to watch tv with him anyway-because he wants to watch 24 or Law and Order-and then he just ends up sitting next to her on the new (aparently not as comfortable as his age-old recliner) couches while she does the head-bob act during Monk-which is followed by him getting frustrated-followed by him bringing the whole thing up again several times for the next few days.
Dad's bottom line: "I'm going to be REALLY upset if that recliner ends up in the basement. REALLY upset."
Mom's bottom line: "Nothing can be done to fix it. Everything about it is ugly. I'm not okay with that."
Sometimes I positively cannot wait to be married.

But apparently I don't know much about married life, because mom was giving me a little lesson tonight about boys:
(After I've said that I don't want to play a game, I just want to sit and talk.)"Games are a way to get boys to talk. They have to be doing something else for them to start talking-it doesn't work if you try to just get them to sit there."
What? No. Not possible. Really? I've got to play Bang every time I want a boy to talk to me for real?
So I promptly refuted with, "My husband is going to sit and talk to me. For hours and hours." Which was followed by every member of my family laughing at me. Not chuckling. Giggling at such a silly proposition-boys, talk? Not a chance!
You'd think I would have said I wanted my husband to have grown up in a box or something! (:D-I guess it'll be a while before I live that one down.)

August 7, 2008

I don't know who's bright idea it was for me to get a blog, because whenever I think about posting I just want to talk about the amazingness of music or the gospel.
Well, here's a little of both, from my journal......

August 7, 2008
Oh my gosh, day one of the cabin has been so fun and has gone by so fast! I love being with these girls, and Claire's family has been so sweet to us.
Kendra and I are giving a devotional tonight, and we're talking about trusting in the Lord. This is something I have a strong testimony of because I have to work on it so much. In thinking about trusting in God I came back to 2 Nephi 22, which talks about trusting and not being afraid because God is our strength and our song. This passage has always had special meaning to me-at BYU I once sang "Amazing Grace" and played an arrangement of mine in church. I had felt comfortable beforehand, but during the performance I got nervous and felt like I lost it. (Sound familiar? AGH.) Nerves have always been a huge struggle for me. I think it's because music is such a part of me and it's exposing my deepest everythings to whatever joe schmo off the street might be listening...anyway. After that performance I was feeling particularly down and frustrated. I flipped open to this passage in 2 Nephi 22: "sing unto the Lord, for he hath done excellent things." I got those crazy chills-the ones where I shudder and shiver with delight and enlightenment. I realized again how much I need to trust Him and be patient in His timetable with unfolding His plans to me. I know that through Heavenly Father's plan and because of the Atonement we can trust without fear, and draw water out of the wells of salvation with joy, that through Christ we can make a difference in the big world and become more than we ever dreamed of becoming. I know that it is only through trusting our Heavenly Father and His purposes that we can be joyful and have satisfaction-the peace crawling into bed at the end of the day, that even though we may not know all the specifics of the path back to Him, we can be content in knowing that He has done excellent, and that He will continue to direct our paths as we let Him. I see so clearly in hindsight how He has done this SO abundantly for me and me life; leading me to opportunities and situations and people that have helped me along in my journey back to Him.
So even though I have absolutely no idea where I will be in a year, or in five, I can rest easy knowing that He is in the details of my life, and that because He loves me more deeply than I can comprehend, He will never let me pursue a destructive path if I'm trying my best.



It never ceases to floor me that a creator omniscient and omnipotent can have room to care about the smallest, most insignificant of His creations. He has "engraven [us] upon the palms of [His] hands"-I want the sum of my life to add up to an engraving of Him on my heart and mind.

He is my joy
and my song-
Every hope of everything sweet and wonderful in my life comes from Him.

Return of TMGCDLM

Mr. Trouble-Maker-Gum-Coveting-Dred-Locks Man was on the bus again today-
He still had his dred lock buns, but was chewing a piece of gum this time...
I only half-listened as he told his tale to the poor man sitting behind me.

babblings of today

everyone grows up so fast, changes so quickly-i just want to be able to look back on my life and say that i didn't waste it away, whatever the lame excuse may be. i was talking to my dad tonight and he was just saying that we shouldn't suffer through things because we feel like we have to do them, whatever-that's not what this life is for. i'm beginning to realize how wide open the world is to me at this point-i can do anything i want! i don't have to go to school or work or anything else, for that matter. but i have chosen a path that i feel good about, and while there's nothing wrong with exploring alternatives, i think i can manage everything. some things are going to suffer for the next month or two while i get this whole major thing sorted out. i just don't know which things to let slide, what can wait...
the other thing i've been having doubts about is being a music ed major. i don't want to do things classically for four years! i want to do music the way i want to do music. i've just figured up to this point that i'll do things byu's way for a while and then i can do it my way, but there's always the fear that i'll never get that opportunity and it'll all be wasted. but nothing excites me more than planning lesson after lesson of music, all kinds of music, to change the lives of students from every walk of life. i never tire of planning my opening remarks for day one of every school year, or analyzing what lauryn hill pieces i'm going to assign. the insane excitement of those thoughts makes it worth it to me for now.
non-cohesive babblings. sorry to give you the raw version...

Alteration.

That song that you wrote about me came on while my iPod was shuffling...I smiled with the irony and listened to memories of feelings-nothing more than feelings-a lot of bitterness and wondering and nostalgia. I just need to dismiss it as such.

I can't always demand closure from outside sources-life's not constructed that way. Even though it's impossible not to kick myself for not following logic, I guess I don't really regret any of it.

I think the caring-just the deep, emotional connection (yes, completely void of romantic love)-will always be there, no matter how much I forgive and forget-the experiences we have change who we are and make it impossible to forget them. Somebody once told me the feelings never go away. I don't think they ever go away, because once you've had those feelings you are altered in some way-but I do think those feelings can change form.

I have that quality of doing everything with everything I've got, for better and worse-I decided a long time ago it was worth it, and part of the essence of who I am. I've been meaning to quit complaining about it for a while now, but somehow it keeps creeping up!

But my conclusion is this: the fond nostalgia of goodness always dulls the haunting of the painful memories, enough to make it worth it in my mind. The human experience is made up of the full range of emotions-it has to be that way for life to mean anything. I feel these extremes with more intensity than everybody else-it makes the highs higher and the lows lower, yeah, but at the end of the day, I want it that way.

Lamest Super Power Ever:

Being able to predict the future-but only for the upcoming five seconds.

Ode to the Bus

I love the bus.
I really do-as inconvenient, smelly, long, and uncomfortable as it can be. Confined together for an hour plus, some chemical reaction occurs between the people-true colors eeke out, somehow.

There's a 14-year-old girl announcing that she's running away to the mall; a man spouting a fountain of swear words that as far as we know are still hovering in space over Lake Michigan today; a couple discussing politics at the top of their lungs, determined to start a revolution beginning with the patrons of UTA; bus drivers who read at stop lights; countless senior citizens taking advantage of retirement and the discount; and my personal favorite: Trouble-Maker-Gum-Coveter-Dred Locks Man.
So it's another day-I'm riding to work, chillin. Just doin a little espanol, studying up. Said man sits next to me and unabashadly peers over my shoulder the entire way. When I pop a piece of Sangria Fresca into my mouth his mouth is visibly watering (no exaggeration.) I offer him a piece of gum, which apparently was his cue to strike up arguably the weirdest conversation in UTA history:
Trouble-Maker-Gum-Coveter-Dred Locks Man: "So, you speak Spanish?"
Me: "Oh, a little. I'm just learning."
TMGCDLM: "You go to BYU?"
Me: "Mmmhmm."
TMGCDLM: "Ah, I went there. But they didn't like my dreds so I had ta leave. But then apostles came to my house, I bet BYU wants me back now."
Me: "Why did apostles come to your house?"
TMGCDLM then pulls out a notebook and tells me to read the first page. This thing is full of diagrams and 'prophesies' of when the world is going to end, commandments we should put in place, I don't even know what else. I hand the notebook back to him, not a clue as to what I could say.
TMGCDLM: "Yeah, so they were interested in my prophesies, so they didn't really care 'bout mah dreds too much. I'm just a trouble maker, I guess! My hair is just the beginning."

I love the bus.

Shout Out!

To the loveliest roommates:

Kendra.

The dumb things: we like the same foods (except Taco Bell:D), the same fashions, photography...plus she's mah nigt.

She is hilarious when she doesn't mean to be. For example:

(swatting cake off Becky's fork) "NO BECKY!" THAT'S MY PIECE!! Yesterday you ate one of my baby carrots without asking!"

She lets me take pictures of her incessantly. She knows the entire "library card" Arthur rap. She makes people feel good about themselves. She is effortless. Talented. She appreciates things. She's one of the best listeners I've ever met in my life. She's so mature-she's going to make a great mom. Her testimony radiates from her being! It's so uplifting. I just love being around her

Katie.

She is SO freaking funny that I can't stop myself from laughing at positively everything that comes out of her mouth.

Some favorites:

(on the phone): "mom, I have to go, I'm reading Harry Potter out loud to Becky...no, mom, it IS a school book...NO, it's for Harry Potter 212."

"I heard there was no dancing...

Brooke: "YEAh there is!! It's a dance!"

Katie: "No Lil' Jon. How'm I 'posed ta dance?"

"Keep going, Muhafa."

"Becky, you jacked my tape! Next time you jack my tape, I'll jack your face, ho!"

"Becky, you're like a naughty child. If I have to come out here again, you'll have to go back to bunk bed. That won't feel very good, will it?"

Becky: "Mom, can I have a drink of water?"

Katie: "Um, could you suck my butt?"

Katie: "Becky, what will I do when you leave? I'll have nothing to play with."

Becky: "I've only had this wheelchair for a week."

Katie: "Best week of my LIFE!"

DBritt: "What kind of accent is that?"

Katie: "I'm from ze sexy land of ze sexy mischief."

"Wait-is Western Family only in the W...OH. I HATE myself."

"Okey foldy."

"Nobody gets the 'foldy.' Obviously it's dokey."

"At my sister's wedding I had a bright red WWJD bracelet on. The pictures were great. Ah, Jesus. What would He do."

"One time, I was jumping on my parents' bed, and I floated. I don't know how it happened, but I flew around the room."

"This is Shan. Actually, it's Shannon. You gave me that nickname when you met me just now. Did you clean up after the dance? Said Shan."

and, of course: "BALLIN'!"

And yet she has depth to her, and she's so smart and motivated! She doesn't ever try to be someone she's not. I love her. Bean-hating, Beatles/Harry Potter-loving, hilariously amazing Katie Harris.

Kaylie.

Where can I even start? I can't describe four years of best-friend-ness in a little paragraph-I've already tried in every yearbook entry and pretty much every day, but here we go again. She listens to me, she's hilarious-especially when she gets in those silly moods and "looks like a lerp", she is intelligent, blah, blah, blah. Never has anyone completed me so completely as Kaylie Jean Hancock-so much so that we gave each other middle names. She's really good at rounding, cooking chicken (or so I hear), being spiritual, and being incredible. I can talk to her for hours upon hours about everything and nothing. When we get on the same wavelength, there's no stopping us (even if we happen to walk through a horrific fart.) AGH I love every particle of her.

I love you guys, so, so much. I'm so thankful for you and all you do and are for me-I know that we've met for a reason. Words can't describe my feelings for you and all the memories we've
shared. Sappy, sappy, sorry-I just can't wait to keep making more!

Can't Buy Me...?

I've always claimed to be a very non-materialistic person: if I ever struck it rich, I would travel, solve world hunger, other noble causes of the like. Big houses, fancy cars, and all that money can buy never interested me much. It's always hit me as tacky and fake. Ick. I'd be much happier sleeping peacefully at night, not owing a person in the world one dime, than having the neighbors think I'm cool-or whatever people who are into that kind of stuff want out of the whole mess.

Ah, but now, as a poor college student, I realize how much money really can buy. Its lack is painfully apparent in broken computers that need fixing, bare cupboards that need replenishing, bare walls that wish for decorating, and hair that longs for chopping.
I'm as convinced as ever that money can't buy happiness...
but I feel like it sure helps.

I still wouldn't ever want the maintenence of a huge house or the pressure of a slick sports car, but I've found myself wondering lately what it would be like to feel the ease that comes from being able to throw money away: you never have to plan your trips to get the cheapest airfare, worry about inconveniencing some friend-of-a-friend so you can skip out on hotel costs, compare prices, clip coupons, shop second-hand, wait for your savings to add up enough to buy whatever new thing you want, keep your job....the list goes ON.

I'm never going to sacrifice things I want for money-but if I do happen to win the lottery without playing, I guess I won't complain.

Finally!

120 G iPod classic, silver: $249.99

iTunes obsession: $400 and running...

Personal soundtrack to your life, solo dance parties all over campus, and an unquelchable spring in your step: priceless.

Baby B.

I feel I need to offset the previous post with something less cynical...

Brennon turns six tomorrow-I absolutely cannot believe that child is six already!! I feel so...old.

I remember every detail about the day he was born like it was yesterday. Seventh grade. White sweater. Emperor's New Groove in the lobby. Balloons. Mom's smile. How little and adorable he was (even though he looked like an alien-face it, all newborns look like aliens.) Anyway.

When I came out to the car from work he said, "Oh there she is! I'm so happy to see you, Brooke!" He's proper enough to be British. Later in the night Cam and Eric were goofing off in the back seat and he goes, "Now, what is the trouble?" That kid. Apparently his kindergarten teacher thought he was OCD, even. Whaaaat??? haha.

Garrett sent him a dinosaur from Japan that was actually made in China and has a screw in the back of its head. Brennon decided to use it as a piggy bank since it's permanently decapitated.

After shoving everyone into a six-year-old-sized bench for a "Chuck E. Sketch" family portrait and Macey's-sized ice cream cones, everyone begged me to stay the night. I love them. I wish the little moments described the...things...between all of us. I guess it's just called love.

Happy birthday, baby B. I'll never stop kissing you too much or tucking you too tight in bed, even if you've decided you're a big kid who speaks well.

Reality Check Mate.

I'm 19 years old, and I'm just now learning about the things you're supposed to keep to yourself.

I'm constantly sharing dumb things that no one cares about-things that are hilarious in my little brain but sound ridiculous when said aloud; spoutings not grounded in fact (gasp!); feelings I don't have the stamina to explain; whims I don't intend to follow through with...and then, they just float out there-no one knows what to do with useless tidbits that don't serve them. Some people are really good at validating me and catching those little floating buggers-mostly my dear mother-saint-but I guess if I wouldn't put them out there in the first place they wouldn't have to worry about being caught or left by anybody.

My stupid mouth has got me in trouble, too. I'm 19 years old, and I've just recently realized that I'm slightly tactless. I never thought I was too blunt, but I'm just now starting to realize that I don't need to say everything I think.

So lately I've been really excellent at keeping my opinions to myself, and that keeps everyone happy and stapled down-no free floating-right? I stifle silly desires as soon as they arise. I don't entertain my wishful thinking of the future. My head is out of the clouds; I'm getting grounded in reality.
Finally.
Reality includes grocery shopping, bank accounts, homework, grease, tripping on sidewalk and turning legs into hamburger (ha), and all things un-glamorous. Life is not a movie, it's not a fairytale, and it's not ever peaches and cream.

I suppose the point is that my newly subdued opinions might just leak out into my musings here. In that possibility, please shove my amateur thoughts back down my throat and remind me of my promise to never speak up again, starting now.

Snap, Sniffle, Plop!

I love to make disgusting noises.
I love it.
Some people text when they're bored. Some twiddle their thumbs, snap their gum, twirl their hair-whatever.
I make gross noises.
Slurps, sniffles, plops, snaps, snuffles, snoggles-I love them all!
Why this passtime is so entertaining to me, I might never know-however, I do know that I find some sort of sick satisfaction in coming up with new and horrifically revolting sounds.
Maybe it's impressive to me that my very own mouth can actually create these sounds, or perhaps it's intriguing that I can find such joy in something so immature and, well, stupid. It's also possible that this is a side effect of having four brothers-burps, farts, loogie hocks, and nose-blows were never in short supply. Of course, I find these sounds positively repulsive-but...secretly...I find solace in a quality nose-blow; it doesn't do the job unless it sounds like an elephant. I get a kick out of a hearty belch, I feel oddly content when I work up a good loogie, and I'll leave the fart subject as is...

Oh, the confessions of a closet zoobie.

New Soul--Or Just New Hair...

Greaseball.
I slept in today, and called upon a trusty ponytail to get me through the first two classes of the day-feeling alright for five hours of sleep but a bit...homelier than usual.

After a dose of cuanto cuesta and que pagaste fried the brain beside my slimy ponytail, I was walking home down University Avenue when a sudden, overwhelming, positively uncontrollable urge to cut my hair hit me like a ton of bricks. I physically could not wait another minute! The fates aligned, and the Metropolitan Salon appeared before my ecstatic eyes.
A mere 40 minutes and 30 bucks later, I'm a new woman.
How does chopping off some dead protein hold the power to make me feel so freaking good? I'll do things I never thought possible before, say things I would have kept to myself. I'll do whatever I want with my newfound freedom! Freshly A-lined bob swinging, I can single-handedly solve world hunger-or possibly just my Spanish homework.

Out Of The Closet

In the morning when I pull a shirt over my head, it’s ironic to me-
I think of the last time I wore this shirt, and how everything has changed.
How I know different things now, but mostly how the people have changed. If you had told me last time I was wearing this black and white print what I would be thinking as I pulled it on today, I probably would have laughed, although if I could be certain and see the future I might have cried.
Ironic, isn’t it, that the next time I wear it I might be crying over something else, or laughing at yet another ridiculous possibility of the extent of my emotional out-there-ness. Who woulda thought, huh?

Hey, hey, heya

Here I am!
Hey, cyberspace world...
I'm back.