Michelle's Blurty
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Michelle's Blurty:
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| Saturday, December 31st, 2005 | | 6:51 pm |
Notes drawn from the river.
A small stream winds its way
through the deep, dark woods.
It’s a place of fantasy and fiction,
somewhere drawn from the imagination.
I sit beside the cool, clear stream,
drag my fingers through its water.
Where does it lead, I wonder?
Does it feed some distant, surging river?
The only sounds I hear
belong to the music of mother nature.
The rustling leaves, the bubbling, running brook,
the birds and crickets chirping.
My breathing slows to match their gentle pace.
Tranquility overcomes us all.
We are an orchestra of notes
conducted by an invisible hand.
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "The O.C." Sountrack, Mix 1 | | Thursday, December 15th, 2005 | | 8:41 pm |
“A slight sound at evening lifts me up…” part 2 (after Henry David Thoreau)
A slight sound at evening lifts me up,
it’s the music of my heart.
Whether its beats be fast or slow
I sing along without a care.
This is my truest, happiest time
when I am free to let go.
I release all my worries and cares
and follow the sound of my soul.
Such awesome effect this has
these songs and lyrical words.
This is what music does:
it sets me free.
Current Mood: cold
Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie, "I will Follow You into the Dark" | | Sunday, December 11th, 2005 | | 7:23 pm |
“A slight sound at evening lifts me up…” (after Henry David Thoreau)
I sway and I sing
with reckless abandon.
Nothing in the world
matters to me.
I spin, wave my arms
scream louder than ever.
I’m off-key
and tone-deaf.
I don’t care
about anything.
I repeat the words
blasting all my senses.
I let go of it all
and let the music
of my deepest heart
wash over me.
Current Mood: depressed
Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie, "Marching Bands of Manhattan" | | Saturday, December 3rd, 2005 | | 1:50 pm |
Write about taking a detour.
I had a plan for myself once.
I guess that’s the sort of thing
that’s impressed upon you
while you’re growing up.
To have a plan, a goal.
Too bad life doesn’t work that way.
Life isn’t a straight line.
It doesn’t go according to plan.
You’re faced with obstacles
and set-backs
and disappointments.
What you were once so sure about
becomes uncertain.
All you can do is carry on.
You have to make a lot of changes
that’s what life dictates.
That’s just how it is.
Sometimes, dreams don’t come true.
But it’s okay.
Hold on to the new dreams.
Current Mood: restless
Current Music: Sufjan Stevens, "Chicago" | | Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 | | 9:25 pm |
One Saturday Night…
I fell for you
one Saturday night.
I could barely breathe
when my eyes
landed upon you.
My mind raced
and all my words faltered.
It was like you
stepped out of a dream
the moment I awoke.
I thought that perhaps
you were an illusion.
My eyes playing
cruel tricks
on my brain.
But no, oh no,
there you stood.
Pure perfection
in beautifully flawed
living, breathing human form.
In you lay all the promise
of unfulfilled fantasy.
The potential to put
my fears to rest.
To, once and for all,
be happy.
Could I manage
the precious bravery
that it would take
just to finally meet you,
just to say “hello”?
One word seems so simple
no too hard to say.
But, for me, it required
the ultimate act
of courage.
Not to let regret
be my perpetual companion.
To create a new outcome
for my future
instead of the constant
of unhappiness.
To unleash the confidence
that was inside of me
all along.
You brought all of it
out of me.
You didn’t even know
how important you were
in that moment.
The potential of you
made this sad, quiet girl
unshackle herself
from the bonds
of loneliness.
And I did not waver
as I boldly made my way
to stand before you,
a stranger,
and simply say “hello”.
In a brief moment
of introduction,
I learned the true value
of myself.
I am quiet no more.
Current Mood: moody
Current Music: The John Mayer Trio, "Gravity" | | Saturday, September 3rd, 2005 | | 3:34 am |
a new poem
“Sleeping where I fall.” (after Peter Coyote)
Sometimes the world goes by so fast
I have to slow way down.
I have to get my head on straight
and take a look around.
People rush on by me
without a sideways glance.
Their lives are too important
to ever take a chance.
I question the mentality
of what’s important and what is not.
Is working in this hectic world essential?
Is it what you’ve made and what you’ve got?
Someday, when my life is almost through
I’ll look back at everything and recall
friends, family, and faith is all that mattered,
and then I’ll sleep where I fall. | | Saturday, August 27th, 2005 | | 4:55 pm |
and another something new...
The Hitchhiker
Stranger of the road-weary life
where are you going? Does your
endless travel have a purpose? I
wonder if you even know the
location of your final destination; or
if you are just satisfied with the
idea that you will travel alone
around this giant world. Will you
ever find a home, or will you
simply spend everyday on the road?
Maybe on the day you pass from
this world, they will bury your body
in the ground along some road you
once walked; but, your soul will
always wander through Heaven,
never content to settle anywhere
for too long.
Stranger, where are you going?
Current Mood: bored | | 1:16 am |
part of a short story...
Write about a time you changed your mind.
Eric sat across the old wooden table from me, studiously reading a guitar magazine. I was there mostly just to keep him company. I looked down at the table, noticing some of the phrases and proclamations that people had carved into its rough, brown surface. There was the traditional “So-and-so loves so-and-so” and, of course, “Fuck you,” along with some uncommon quotes and statements. I felt like adding my own generic “life sucks.”
Eric shifted in his seat and closed the magazine, slapping it down on the table with a sigh.
“I’ll never be as good as these guys,” he said, indicating the various musicians and singers on the cover.
“Not with that attitude, anyway,” I shot back. He sometimes sunk into these depressive states of self-doubt and it was my appointed duty to pull him out.
“Thanks for the support,” he quipped sarcastically.
“Well, you won’t. If you don’t believe enough in yourself and your talent, then you’re right, you won’t be any good,” I replied matter-of-factly, shrugging my shoulders.
“How could I possibly compete with the likes of these guys?” he asked, his voice rising a bit. I was becoming exasperated with him.
“For the love of God, Eric, would you stop! Just quit doubting yourself. Quit comparing yourself to other people. You’re talented, you know it.”
He sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He had a smirk on his thin lips and his eyes seemed to be lit with a fire.
“Hey, don’t get to cocky over there, pal,” I cautioned. “You’ve still got to get up on stage and perform in front of all those strangers.”
“Yeah, but as long as I’ve got you there for support, I’ll be okay.” He gathered his backpack and guitar case from the chair next to him and stood up. I grabbed my messenger bag and hung it over my shoulder. We walked out of the bookstore to my car, an old, beat-up, red Ford Escort.
Once inside the car, he took control over the radio. Usually, that annoyed me. Today, though, I had other things on my mind. If he thought he was nervous about his impending performance, he had no idea of the terror I held on his behalf.
When he had begun his obsession with playing the guitar eight years before, I figured it would be a short-lived hobby at best. But he kept at it, immersing himself in guitar playing. He listened to everyone from Stevie Ray Vaughn and Jimi Hendrix to Joe Satriani and B.B. King. He grew so attached to his second-hand electric and acoustic guitars that he’d sleep with them right next to his bed, practicing from the time he woke up in the morning to until he went to sleep at night. It got so he could listen to a piece of music a few times and then could play it perfectly.
For the longest time, everybody wrote Eric off. They all said he would grow out of playing the guitar so much, that it was just a phase. After my initial period of feeling the same doubt, my opinion differed from theirs. When he played me the first song he’d written, something basic and pretty generic, I knew he wouldn’t give it up. I was skeptical at the beginning, but now here I was, eight years later, anxious over his first real public performance.
In many ways, Eric was a typical 19 year-old. He loved movies and music, played games on his Play Station almost religiously until he beat them. But in a lot of other ways, he was different from everybody else, too. He could, of course, play the guitar like nobody’s business. He was also smarter than anybody I knew, with a vocabulary that baffled me. Half of the time he used words in conversation with me that I had no idea what they meant, and I’d have to go home and look up their definitions in the dictionary afterwards.
My belief in Eric’s budding music career wasn’t the only thing that changed for me. We’d been friends since diapers and I had shied away from a lot of kids our age to be a tomboy with him. At a certain point, I wasn’t sure when, my feelings for him changed. I found myself more attracted to him and moved by his talent and dedication to his music. Of course, the fact that he shared with me a song that he wrote about me did nothing except increase my feelings for him exponentially.
Even though I felt that strongly about him, I never told him. I’d come pretty close a few times, but I’d always chicken out when it came right down to it. Now, I doubted if he even knew my true feelings.
Current Mood: hormonal | | Thursday, August 25th, 2005 | | 8:20 pm |
untitled poem
“It’s my belief we’re all crazy,”
said the homeless man out of nowhere.
Such a wild proclamation
startled us all into awareness.
Perhaps he was correct
in his unusual way of thinking.
Many of us pondered over
our personal insanity.
After all, did we not
struggle through our lives
toiling at jobs we disliked
with little benefit?
Did we not ignore our friends
and put our families aside
trying to climb the corporate ladder
trying to be the best at what we loathed?
Didn’t we forget what we loved
in favor of what was convenient
or what was least difficult
for us to succeed in doing?
As we thought of our lives
and the moments of promise unlived
the craziest man wasn’t him
it was each of us.
Current Mood: funky | | Wednesday, August 24th, 2005 | | 5:22 pm |
newer stuff...
Write about an overheard remark.
They sit across from each other
a table’s length apart and world’s away.
He worries about the approach:
how should he attempt to encounter
someone as lovely as she?
She frets, too, about the chance:
shouldn’t she say something to him
before he, and time, slips away?
They are strangers in familiar territory
wanting to seize the moment, but insecure.
He doesn’t even imagine that she
feels the same unrest over their
unresolved situation.
She worries that he is uninterested
in someone as timid and unsure
of how to embrace this opportunity.
Two individuals, enduring the same unrest
of a potential connective moment.
A pair of brilliant fools. | | Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005 | | 9:06 pm |
a poem today for you...
Once, in the midst of all this recklessness… (writing prompt, not the title)
Safety is my anchor in this life
of boring trivialities and strife.
To think back on my younger days
and long for all those wilder ways.
Once, in the midst of all the recklessness
I loved so carefree and with bliss.
No thought of wariness or wisdom
passed through my weakened mind for him.
Now, I remember those fun, free times
of sweet abandon, of truths and lies.
The sober life I lead now longs for
those younger days I so adore.
Current Mood: calm | | Monday, August 22nd, 2005 | | 10:24 pm |
short story time!
Aftershocks of the full moon. (again, not the title, just the writing promt I used to inspire the story)
We looked out over the ocean, the stars lit brilliantly white against the dark night sky. The full moon was just rising and loomed huge over the water, like some extraterrestrial spacecraft. The sky was so much darker out here over the water, without the city lights to dull and lighten it.
Silently, Thomas handed me the plain, brown paper bag that he was holding at his side. I opened it and pulled a plastic baggy from inside. Inside this baggy were ashes, the remains of our oldest friend, Michael. It had been his wish, when he was dying of leukemia, that his ashes be spread into the ocean, the place he’d always dreamed of going to some day to surf. His dreams had always been sidetracked, first by school, then by his illness; still, he had clung to them until the end of his life.
When I learned this grave duty I was to perform, I had mixed feelings. I felt honored that Michael wanted me to do this important thing for him. At the same time, I was also angry and upset that I had to bear this weight of saying goodbye to my best friend in this way. It helped that Thomas was with me and I was pretty sure that he was feeling similarly. We had hardly said anything during the whole trip out West.
Now, standing on the edge of the pier with the remnants of my friend in my hand, my eyes welled up with hot tears. I held in my pain during Michael’s funeral. I stayed strong for his parents, his siblings, and our friends. I didn’t let one teardrop fall during the whole ordeal, even though everyone kept telling me it was okay to cry and to just let it out. I couldn’t do it then, when I knew I still had to face this moment.
My hand shook as I carefully opened the bag. Thomas noticed and covered mine with his own. I looked up at him and saw that he was crying, too. He was the only one in the world that understood my pain. Together, we held the bag out over the edge of the pier and then tipped it over. The ashes drifted along like snowflakes as they were caught in the breeze. Soon, too soon it seemed, they were all gone, reaching the waves and disappearing. I shoved the bags down into the trashcan next to me. Then, I just let out a gasp as all the tears flowed. Thomas put his arms around me and pulled me to him. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest, sobbing. He was audibly crying now, too. We clung to each other, feeling the same pain.
Current Mood: satisfied
Current Music: Ryan Adams and The Cardinals, 'Cold Roses' | | Sunday, August 21st, 2005 | | 5:09 pm |
a new poem for you...
This much is known… (a tentative title)
About love, this much is known…
It is a special, indescribable feeling
starting in the tips of your toes
and going all the way to the ends
of your hair when you realize
you’re in love. Your heart may race,
your breath quicken, all kinds of
physiological changes can occur.
But more than that, oh so much more…
There’s the wavering emotions –
from uncertainty to excitement
to panic to sheer and utter bliss.
No man or woman yet has
Come up with a satisfactory definition
for love.
I wish I had a love in my life –
perhaps something like out of a film
or a romance novel. No, something
real, true, and content. I long for
someone to wrap his arms around me
and hold me like he’ll never let me go.
It would be nice to have a man
who sings to me, talks to me,
cares for me. He would look at me
and that look would tell me how
beautiful I am to him.
Yes, about love, this much is known…
Current Mood: discontent | | Saturday, August 20th, 2005 | | 12:08 pm |
New concept for my blurty...
Some time ago, I abandoned my blurty for a xanga blog. Well, I've come to reclaim this little piece of internet. From now on, this will be the blog I use for all my writing, whether it be stories, songs, poems, whatever creative thing pops into my mind.
So, today, I will reveal to you an older poem... enjoy!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
My Father's Hands
They clench in worry
over my unknown location.
But when I am found,
they stiffen in discipline.
They fold together in prayer
when my Grandmother is ill.
And when she is gone
they wipe tears away.
They are large and worn,
ragged and beaten by the years.
Much like the imperfect man
are my father’s hands.
Current Mood: creative | | Monday, February 21st, 2005 | | 11:56 pm |
When is Spring getting here, again?
We are now in the doldrums of winter. Blah. I'm so sick of winter and so ready for spring. Living through winter in Chicagoland makes moving to Vegas even more appealing, I'll tell you. If only UNLV or some other area university would get my damned Masters of Library Sciences program.
So, I was pretty sick last weekend. It was the kind of sick where, you feel so lousy, you don't even want to feel better, you just want to die. Yeah, it was pretty fun times... only, not so much. The thing that sucked most about it was that I got my hair cut (finally) on Saturday morning and I was feeling so super excited about how awesome I looked. Then, I get home from shopping that afternoon and, bam, sick. Being sick really sucks, as if you didn't already know that.
Let's see, what else is going on in my life? Not a whole hell of a lot, I'll tell you, and that's kind of sad. I work, sleep, and play around on the internet. Throw in some more working and sleeping, and you've pretty much summed up my life at this point. Damned exciting, isn't it?
I must say that I do love my internet friends, though. When I feel lousy, they make me feel better. When I need a good laugh, they're always willing to provide one. I don't know what I'd do without them, that's for sure. I'd probably be even more of a self-imposed outcast than I already am.
Okay, here we go with recommendations:
DVD recommendations:
Shark Tale: This was such a fantastic, funny, beautiful movie, I am sorry I didn't go see it in the theater. In my opinion, it's really geared toward a more mature audience, but that makes it fantastic viewing for adults. And the mobster jokes cracked me up!
Music recommendations:
Nellie McKay, Get Away from Me: John Mayer recommended her in his Esquire column a few months back, but I was a bit skeptical. After hearing some negative comments about her album, I was even more skeptical. All my skepticism was laid to rest, however, when I finally got my hands on a copy of this and listened to it. FANTASTIC! Nellie has this beautiful, very feminine voice, and combines that with abrasive, funny, and sometimes harsh lyrics. Not everyone will like her, but I now count myself to be a fan.
Current Mood: crappy | | Monday, January 17th, 2005 | | 10:35 pm |
To quote my favorite Eeyore shirt, “I hate Mondays”.
I woke up this morning, and although I was tired, I was feeling pretty okay about the day. That should have been my first sign. I got ready as usual, dressed a little spiffier than usual, just because I wanted to look nicer, you know? I go into work, and I open up our department, something I always like doing because I can get a hell of a lot more done before we open up and patrons start bothering me. Being pretty content at work should probably have been my second sign.
Well, the day went to hell from there. Nothing really bad or tragic, just little things mounting up to irritate me and put me in a bad, funky mood. The topper of this wonderful cake of grumpiness happened when I noticed this shooting pain in the back, upper part of my left leg (basically, my left butt cheek). It wasn’t a constant pain, but every time I’d bend over a certain way and straighten up, I’d let out a little yelp of pain. One of my coworkers finally urged me to go home, something I’d already made up my mind to do at that point. I even went so far as to call my chiropractor so I could ask if I could come in a.s.a.p. It turns out, I have another pinched nerve. Great.
Now, why is it on the day I decided to get dressed all nice, wearing a mostly new outfit, my back decides to give me problems? I swear to bob, I am cursed. Cursed, I tell ya.
Also, why is it that when I decide to really get serious about losing weight and exercising, my body decides that’s the prime opportunity to malfunction and prevent me from getting into shape? Does it not understand that I’m trying to lose weight for it? Stupid bastard.
I AM CURSED!
Current Mood: sore | | Thursday, January 13th, 2005 | | 12:24 am |
The 26th anniversary of my birth, and all is well…
I spent a nice, peaceful birthday being lazy and doing not much of anything. I didn’t want to party or go shopping or anything like that. Nope. All I wanted was some rest and relaxation. And I got it. Is this a sign that I really am becoming an old lady? Frankly, right now, I don’t really care.
So, happy New Year to you, all my blurty readers. Not much has changed, and yet some things have changed this year. I decided towards the end of last year to make this year about me. Now, before you start thinking ‘hold up, wait a minute…’, let me explain my ‘Year of Me’ plan. When I say I’m making this year about me, I mean about improving myself. While I am grateful for many things, I am also unhappy about many things in my life… from my job/education situation to my appearance to my health. So I’ve decided to work on all those things. I started working out at the beginning of the year, and I’ve been pretty faithful to doing it. I’ve taken a day off here and there, because no one should have to exercise every day, in my opinion. My goal with that is to lose some weight, of course; but more important than that is being happy with how I look, fitting into my clothes comfortably or even needing to buy new, smaller sizes, and improving some of my health problems related to my being overweight. I’ll update my progress throughout the year for anybody who’s interested in knowing how I’m doing.
Other than that, I’m just going with the flow of life and trying not to take the bad stuff too much to heart. Goodness, that sounds so cheesy. Forgive me.
On to the good stuff:
Movie Recommendations:
(I decided to add this because I’ve been lazy in my reading and don’t have any book recommendations for you)
‘Ray’ – There is no Jamie Foxx in this movie. There is only Ray Charles. And this is the reason why Jamie Foxx should win the best actor Oscar.
‘Beyond the Sea’ – Even if Bobby Darin wasn’t part of your musical era, you should see this spectacular movie if only to learn of his extraordinary life. It’s more of a celebration of his life, not totally biographical, but Kevin Spacey is a genius, as always.
‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ – I think everyone who’s had a painful breakup should see this movie, but probably not right after the breakup. This movie is kind of a surrealistic, but it perfectly captures how many good things there are to remember, along with the bad things, when a relationship ends.
Music Recommendations:
Jason Mraz, Tonight, Not Again – This is a live CD/DVD set of a show Jason put on last year, I believe. In any case, his voice is impeccable and the songs sound just as good, if not better, than on the recorded album.
Current Mood: thankful | | Wednesday, December 22nd, 2004 | | 12:16 am |
Bah, humbug.
I am really not into the holiday spirit. I think the only people who really are into it are children (because they have pretty much no responsibility) and people with children. Let's face it, it's a hassle to have to go shopping for all the people on your list, especially the ones you don't really like, but feel the need to buy for anyway. What happened to 'it's the thought that counts'?
And speaking of holiday spirit, I've found that it's pretty non-exisistant out there. You try going to stores, or, God forbid, the mall, and see what kind of spirit people are in. It's not a happy one, I'll tell you that. They're tired, they're frustrated, they're cranky, and quite often also rude and inconsiderate. This all goes for people on the road, too. Heaven forbid that they should let a person get into the lane in front of them, or wave someone across an intersection before themselves. No, everyone is in such a hurry to get where ever it is they're going, you'd better not get in their way or you'll face their wrath. And don't even get me started about the cell phones.
I guess I just wish we, as a society, could be more about that 'spirit' and less about commerciality and material things. I know that I enjoy getting gifts, especially when it's something someone put a lot of thought into, and I suspect most people will agree with me on this. But, and as much as this might sound like bullsh*t, I really and truly love giving most of all. I love watching people open what I've bought for them and seeing their reaction. I try to put a great deal of planning and thought into the gifts that I give, so it's very gratifying for me to see that people are really delighted with what I've given them. I know that this process is not about me, but rather about the people who I am giving the gifts to, but I do feel a little tingle of pride when I know the person will enjoy their gift. Really, it almost makes all the other less favorable things about this season worth it. Almost.
Current Mood: blah
Current Music: Damien Rice: O | | Wednesday, December 1st, 2004 | | 10:17 am |
...when it comes to December, it’s obvious why...
I spent a nice quiet Thanksgiving with my mom, bro’s now ex-girlfriend Melissa (that’s Melissa of the Gavin Degraw concerts), and my nephew Zachary. It was good food, good company, and peace and quiet, so it doesn’t get much better than that. There’s nothing really interesting to report, other than us watching ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkahban’ twice, at Zach’s request. I have fully come to the belief that the less family members you spend Thanksgiving with, the better the day.
The day after Turkey Day, I drove to Indiana to visit friend Christine from college. She’s truly my closest friend lately, and I really miss spending time with her so often. She was my one excellent roommate, so you know that means we get along. We went and saw ‘Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason’, which we both thought was really good, despite what the critics thought. I think the funniest thing about the movie was not the actual movie itself, but the three 40something women sitting a few rows in front of us at the theater. When they laughed at something in the movie, which was quite often, they cracked up, and that cracked me up.
We spent Saturday afternoon shopping at what will forever be Southlake Mall (even though they changed the name, Southlake 4 lyfe!). It was pretty crowded at the mall on Saturday, but I doubt anywhere near as crowded as on Friday. One thing that bugged me, and really pissed Christine off, was the inconsiderate people that would bump into you and not say ‘excuse me’. What ever happened to manners? I guess a lot of parents aren’t raising their kids to have any now-a-days, and it’s not surprising that the kids don’t have any when the parents are just as ignorant. I think Christine was seriously getting to the point where she wanted to trip people ‘accidentally’ (i.e. on purpose) just because they were being such a**holes.
I have to say that one of the best things we did was go to Olive Garden for dinner on Saturday. I literally hadn’t been to an Olive Garden in years, so I’d forgotten just how good the food was. Good God, it was good. I must remember to visit their fine facilities more often to remind myself.
Sunday we ended up running to a couple of stores and just mostly hanging out. It was funny to me, because Christine kept asking me all weekend ‘Did you want to go out or do anything?’ I’d just reply to her, ‘I came to hang out with you, honey. I don’t care if we do anything.’ You know that’s a mark of a good friendship when you can just spend time with someone and not really do anything special.
So, this is my week off of work. It started of f pretty unproductively, with me being lazy most of Monday. Yesterday, I had enough of a work out to last for the whole freakin’ rest of the week. I had decided quite some time ago that I wanted to tear the carpeting out of my room, because, frankly, it was crap. I planned to do this on my week off because I figured it would be a lot of work getting all the stuff out of my room, tearing out the carpeting, then moving my bigger furniture around my tiny room. I was not wrong. Today, I have muscles hurting that I didn’t even know I had. It figures, the one night when I need some Tylenol PM to help me sleep, I don’t take it. I went to bed at about 11 last night totally exhausted. And I’m still not done! I have crap laying in the living room that I have no idea where to put. While I was cleaning everything out of my room yesterday, I just kept asking myself ‘where did I get all of this sh*t?’ My mom had to laugh, because she asks me the same thing all the time. Yes, yesterday was truly her moment of shining glory, when all her nagging about me having too much stuff and needing to get rid of some of it came to fruition. The sad thing is, I still have most of it. I don’t know why I have such a hard time parting with stuff, but I do. This would be okay if I lived in my own place, or even had a bigger bedroom. Unfortunately, I have a tiny room.
Today, I am sore as hell and woke up without any water in the house. Great. I’m sure it has something to do with the snow we had yesterday, but God only really knows. Our mobile home park seems to take great delight in shutting off the water at the drop of a hat, never giving us any notice. Yet another reason I really do not like living here. Yes, I’ll even go so far as to say I hate living here, although I am thankful to have a home at all. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. I could be living in my Honda Civic.
Book Recommendations:
This is more of an author recommendation, but while I was cleaning my room yesterday, I came across several of the books I have by author Karen Hesse. Now, she writes what would be considered Juvenile or Young Adult literature, but that doesn’t matter. She’s a riveting storyteller and writes about relevant topics. Some of her books to check out are: Out of the Dust, Witness,, and Phoenix Rising.
CD Recommendations:
Just one today, and it’s in the holiday spirit...
Barenaked Ladies, Barenaked for the Holidays
The title really says it all... wouldn’t you like to be bare naked for the holidays?
Current Mood: sore
Current Music: 'Garden State' Soundtrack | | Saturday, November 20th, 2004 | | 1:46 am |
My God how I love CSI: Miami
David Caruso, how I love thee. I love the way you have elevated the dramatic pause to an art form. I love that you have taken overacting to new levels. I love the way, when you’re standing in a completely dark room, that special ray of light will hit only you, as if you were Jesus. Because, in fact, you are Jesus… the Jesus of the CSI franchise. Sure, the first CSI may be a better show, with better acting and better stories. But as much as I love that show, it simply doesn’t deliver the constant laughs (albeit, unintentionally) that your show, nay, your presence delivers. So, to you, David Caruso, I say go boy! Keep up that overacting, those 10-second dramatic pauses, those wistful looks. I am a fan of all of this and so much more. |
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