Monday, May 14, 2012

Mother's Day Weekend and a Harley-girl :)

Well, it's been quite a time since my last post! We got our Harley-Quinn! She's super adorable and such a sweet dog! She's a little pain since she's a teething puppy and wants to get into EVERYTHING! We're enrolled in Beginner's obedience training at Petsmart and our first class was Saturday. She did really well and  we figured out a few tricks to keep her attention. She's an uppety little shit though! Yesterday, we brought her with us to visit our families so while we were at Cisco's folks' house, she wouldn't drink water out of the bowl. She'd only drink if I was pouring it from a bottle and it was super cold! We also learned that she gets bored with one set of treats so we have to switch up the treats to get her attention! I wouldn't trade her for the world, though. My cats were pretty interesting when they met last week. Snoggy (my older one) has absolutely NO issues with Harley. I think it's because Snoggy thinks she's a dog anyway so she just kind of rolls over in front of Harley to play. The only problem is that Harley doesn't get that she's about 15lbs heavier than Snoggy and playing with Snoggy means no pawing. Stash, on the other hand, did NOT take well to the new addition to the house. Stash is definitely used to being the alpha-female and she was threatened by Harley being much bigger than her. She's slowly coming around but she still bats at Harley if she gets too close. I have to keep an eye on that since both cats still have their claws.
Cisco and Harley-girl :)

Since she still has some of her baby teeth, she LOVES tug o' war!

This is probably my favorite picture of Harley on her own.

She thinks she's so innocent.

Harley love the first day we had her!
I mentioned heading to visit our families yesterday for Mother's Day. It went really well and it was nice to hang out with the family for awhile. Cisco and I brought his mom a new digital camera that she seemed pretty pleased about (even though she wasn't happy about lots of money spending lol). I helped her get it ready to go to start taking pictures while we were there. It was a nice day so we spent most of it outside with Harley and the kids. Afterwards, we headed to my Mom & Dad's house for dinner. We had steak, shrimp, potatoes and salad. It was sooo tasty and Harley didn't beg for any of it! I got Mom some furniture and a new pot to make another mini-Fairy-garden and she was pretty stoked. They went on a 17 mile bike ride yesterday that I thought was pretty cool. It's nice seeing them relax and try new things.

The only disappointing part was finding out that neither of my siblings bothered to wish Mom a Happy Mother's Day. There was no correspondence from either of them, not even through Facebook! Mom seems kind of nonchalant about it but I'm pretty sure it bothers her. It makes me so frustrated and sad that my siblings treat my parents like crap or don't acknowledge them at all. My parents bend over backwards to help all of us kids and this is the kind of thing that happens? Seriously? Who does that?! Every year I joke that it's my goal to make my Mom cry with whatever gift I give her but it's not really a joke. I try to find something every year to give her to let her know just how much I respect, love, and cherish her. It's the same with my Dad. Dad has done so much for us as a family and he's only treated with disrespect if he's even acknowledged at all by my siblings. The problem is that he's too candid for them. He represents reality. Mom is getting there too which is why I believe neither of them said anything yesterday. She's not taking crap anymore and it bothers my brother and sister enough that they don't make it an attempt to let my Mom know that she's a great Mom. I hope I was able to distract Mom enough while I was there with Cisco and Harley that she knows how much I love her and wish that I was more like her. So if you're reading this and you forgot to contact your Mom yesterday, or you did and you just want to remind your Mom. Tell her that she's awesome. Without her, where the HELL would you be?!

That's enough of my rant for now. I'll leave you with a quote from Washington Irving:

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts."

Friday, May 4, 2012

Some of my poetry...

So in looking to get back on the writing wagon, I figured I'd post some of my old works on here to see if I can get inspired. Some of them are sad, others are funny, and some are just plain uncomfortable. A lot of my poetry doesn't rhyme because I got to a point where I started figuring out that rhyming doesn't always go hand in hand with poetry. I hope someone out there enjoys! :) Here's hoping that I can start writing again. Here we go!

She Tells her Story

She tells her story
But not how you would think
Her story is written;
Still with pencil, still with ink.

She doesn't realize
her story is told through
lines and shadows
Drawn together; colored too.

What she draws; her faith on paper
Charcoals, leads, inks-her tools of trade;
Her story; her truth in intricacy
Her works of art will never fade

She doesn't have to know
Because what I can see
That what she draws for herself
Is what relates for me.

She says she can't write her story
With a pencil or pen
But of course, I disagree.
Her drawings are her story.

She writes her story through shadings, shadows with lines
We all can write our own stories
Stanzas and words are how I tell mine.
But our story is written much the same.

Our tools are what make the difference.
It's Not Art 

She colors her world with
letters and commas
Strewn together
to create her own reality.

Her drawings are stanzas.
No lines, no art
Nothing to evoke emotion.
Just words.

But they're her colors to paint
her life; to redraw her reality
when she can't stand it 
any longer.

When her pain is all but
she turns to those stanzas
that are nothing of art.

Her pen, her pencil
Those lines of the page
With letters and commas
punctuated with rage.

With her hand to the paper;
she finds herself dreaming
of a time when she could
simply write the image in her mind.

She can't draw, manipulate or create;
but she can doodle out a story
of mediocre proportions
because all she has are words.

And those words are just enough
to make her realize
that her world is just right
Colored by the images
Created by her stanzas.

And slowly, but surely she'll start to see
that words and metaphors are just what she needs.
To get her by in this world. and hers.

Stolen Laughter
Every once in awhile I'll reread some of my work and remember where I was at that point in my life. This is one of those works.

That smile, her smirk
is the glue that holds her together
when the world is tearing her apart;
her spirit weakened and weathered.

It used to reach her eyes
Gave her face depth and heart
But it slowly crumbled under
her world ripping apart.

She hides behind her humor
her laughter blankets emotions unknown
But in the end it won't hide her
from the enemy of being alone.

Her laughter is slowly replaced
by shallow breaths and suppressed cries
Because she can't take much more
Of being the only one who tries.

She can't breathe, they stole her
laughter, smiles and fun
Right out from under her
While she battled in a war yet undone.

Impossible to Touch
This is a poem about how I used to (and sometimes still do) feel about people reacting to my back and scars.

Even after all these years, 
it isn't any easier
to supply a rhyme or reason
to map against their irrational fears.

I'm not a contagious disease.
They will never jump from me
onto your skin and force you
to be ill at ease.

It's part of who I have become,
the scars of the person I used to be
Once metaphorical, now physical.
Each day I fight not to succumb.

I fight to take pride in what I wear
Not shrink away from the world
when my clothes reveal
the mountainous terrain of skinned despair.

It's taken me so long to ignore the 'look,' 
the constant confusion, and ignorance.
But sometimes it doesn't matter 
because I'm still missing the precious esteem they took.

One day it won't matter; the valleys of scars
and the pitying stares they send my way
as I walk down the street hunched over.
It won't matter when I'm finally hiding among the stars.

I'm always told that I'm too young
to care what they think but 
fighting a war within myself
while battling the outside world; leaves a hero unsung.

My pride is what holds me together,
my esteem has dripped through the cracks
consumed by the monster slithering through my soul
Forcing me to open the parts of my heart I kept tethered.

One day it will matter that I care so much
about the pain, mentally and physically;
But in the end, I'll always be that girl
That was impossible to touch.
City Dreams 
City Dreams started out because I had a verse stuck in my kind of took on a life of its own and became a three part prose.

Cityscapes; late night rapes
A young child lost; full of scrapes
Urban life; a fool's escape.

Buildings loom; alleys black
Innocence lost; souls lack
Rural child under attack.

His story is common; running away 

from the worse known prey of
what even the devil can't slay.

Stuck in the alleys; alone in the dark
Cringing in the corner; naked and stark.
Remembering the adventure he wished to embark.

He only wanted fun; a night on the town.
Wishing for freedom when no one else was around.
Instead he got what he paid for; alone and on the ground.

Brutally beaten, bitten and bleeding
Images flash of the night preceding
She was a succubus in need of a feeding.

She led him out of the crowded bar;
He wanted to take her; she was so bizarre.
Instead she took it just a little too far.

She whirled on his motionless skin;
Removed his clothes while she bit in.
He was paralyzed and tantalized
until she released him with a grin.

"Run away now, boy." she whispered. He heard it clear.
But his body wouldn't move; his muscles frozen in fear.
She shoved his lifeless body and he watched her disappear.

His memories faded, oh so fast.
Shaking his head; trying to make them last.
He's stuck in this hell; without a future, without a past.

His greatest wish before it all began
was to be free from work, free from reason; and so he ran.
Found by the worst of evils with a plan.


Succubus Sins... Sequel to City Dreams

She watches him from the rooftops as he rocks to and fro. 
Considering when to make her move; to rescue the innocent from below.
She enjoyed the scene of panicked distress; but now it's more than just a show.

When she bit him, she tasted more than just fresh blood and fear. 
She tasted his soul; her conscience she could not hear. 
Blinded by her foolishness; she released him with a sneer.

Disappearing was all she could do; for she lost herself confused. 
She'd lost count how many times she'd left a man or boy in this alley; beaten and abused. 
But this one was different; emotions raged in her as she brazenly refused.

This little boy; this young man that was such a simple meal. 
Couldn't possibly become anything more than a bloody sample she would steal. 
But something stirs deep within; she eyes him once more as he slowly begins to reveal.

He stands; the black alley wall is his support. 
Glancing around for any help; a last resort. 
He moves his legs painstakingly slow; his face contorts.

Suddenly he looks up; as though he can feel her. 
Their eyes lock and he shows no fear; just bites back a whimper. 
She stands in the winds; her hair whipping like wild fire.

He doesn't run like all the rest. 
Even when she appears in front of him; his only emotion seemed impressed. 
Her teeth glinted as she leered; but he simply had one thing to confess.

"I am fascinated." was all he said. Her eyes blazing fire. 
Burning now with unbeknownst desire. 
She removes his bruises with a brush of her small hands; all that's required.

This small interaction; the silence speaking volumes of truth. 
His body hurts no longer; he's no longer a troubled youth. 
He questions his memories; there's no way they could be the proof.

That this beauty that stands before him was the very same 
evil that tried to take life away and burned his skin to flames. 
But the difference was when he struggled to stand; she came.

She came back. She returned to his side without a word. 
Though the idea that he should trust her was absurd; 
The look in her eyes was enough for him to let the unexpected occur.

As they ascended upon the sky; it was a feeling a utter disbelief. 
She was holding this human in her arms; after she almost drained him beyond grief. 
And he watched her as he realized that this woman was nothing but a thief.

A thief of souls, hearts and men. 
She has stolen what's most precious to him. 
But he's not willing to fight her; unsure who would win.

The succubus is fighting to be innocent in his head. 
And she's winning the war; because his conscience is hanging by a thread. 
He fits within her shape as any man would like they were in bed.

But this is so much more than lust; more than animal attraction. 
She knows because of the mere feeling of mutual satisfaction; 
When she touches his skin to hers, even when she became his soul's distraction.
Truth in Fear ...Sequel to Succubus Sins

This succubus of ageless generations; 
and this young man of endless revelations. 
Such the pair they make as they float across the sky with empty complications.

She sets them upon a cliff overlooking the seas 
He's so far from the city; chilled by the breeze. 
But no fear lies within; concerned at his ease.

"I will do you no more harm. Please don't fear me." she speaks 
His reply, spoken in the wind, "I do not fear you; but why was I so weak?" 
She steps away and turns her body towards the answers she seeks.

"I am a soul stealer. I destroy those I touch when I need it most." 
"And I was just another unwilling host?" 
He would never comprehend what it means to be this close.

She teeters on the edge of the cliff of hope; 
while he struggles to figure out a way to force his emotions to cope. 
Even through what he doesn't know; he reaches out for her hand to stroke.

They stay like this; these two beings of disproportionate sorts. 
For an endless time it seems; they had no need to court. 
She could touch him without stealing him; he was her last resort.

They crumble to the ground; upon this cliff of hopes and dreams; 
Wrapped together where nothing is as it may seem 
These two beings; of woven desire and passionate screams.

"Your name? What do they call you, boy?" she whispers in his hair. 
His mumbles are lost in the rocks-but not to her as he says, "Flare." 
She laughs at this joke of the gods; his confusion obvious with a glare.

"My sweet boy; my laughter is of our names in irony. I am Rain." 
Flare smiles with her; his confusion subsides and frustration contained. 
His words followed, "Perhaps opposites, in all ways but one."

How could this be? How can this have happened when just hours ago 
She flaunted her model body scantily clad with a show. 
Hunting; waiting for any guy to peak her fancy and start the flow.

The Weight of the World...

I wrote this about three years ago when I was in a low point of my life.

She's a little girl in a grown-up world;
Surrounded by the big bad world.
Simple words with such resolute conviction, 
they only tell half the story.
She forces herself awake everyday;
Prying herself from a world of books,
music, and endless passions--
All to be drained away by the simple
Mundane tasks of life.
LIFE. Such a small word yet filled with something
No one has ever been able to capture...
Not according to her.
Because life, to her, is making IT.
What is IT? The IT that she's always struggling for.
Fighting for. That one small accomplishment
of making OTHERS happy; OTHERS proud?
of doing as she's told; staying under the radar.
But she suffers within for those weeds
of doubt grow within her consciousness
and wait for her to water them with her
indecision, unreasonable need to take upon her shoulders
the world within which she lives.
The work she does is never enough, yet she slaves
over an apprentice far more appreciated.
But she'll never speak a word or breathe a hint of unhappiness
whilst she's among those few who affect that world she carries.
It wouldn't matter in the least; she knows this much. 
But she's surrounded. Walls crumbling down, caving her in
forcing her to break.
All before she takes on yet another impossible burden.
A burden of pride for her family, and herself.
To force herself into her scholarly endeavor, unfathomable energy
stolen from her soul. But it leads her down the path
of making IT as she fights to keep herself moving.
The weight of what she so stubbornly carries
buries her beneath herself; the weeds of herself planting
into the ground.
She's stuck. She's lost. She's everywhere. And nowhere.
All at once. But does it matter?
Why would it? She's the Titan Atlas. 
As long as she doesn't drop the world
at everyone's feet....she's invisible.
She's rubble and debris, 
but the weight of the world still bears on
..she never dropped the world.
It dropped her.
I wrote this about my home when I lived in Alaska. I always missed the beach.

I feel the sand between my toes
I hear the waves crashing, thunderous against the shore
Straggling clouds shaping the sunset
Colors bordering rose, and grey
The sun slowly lowering itself to slumber
As I walk along the shore, I see ships in the horizon
A gap in the line of lights, where bridge meets tunnel
Music in the distance along Atlantic Avenue
Journeying along the shore, seashells and footprints
Barefoot and rolled up jeans
Splashing each other as we make our way along the beach
Stopping only to write our names in the sand
Simply to be washed away
Much the way life works
I’ll forever love the ocean and all its symbolism
Freedom in the sweet salty air and conscience in the crashing waves
I’ll always be able to feel that air, hear that music
No matter how far away I am
The good old 757, my home always

Your eyes search me to see
The need inside me burning
So hot that I can't handle
the fire you fuel with your white ice
But I'll absolutely try.

As my skin burns so close to yours
You feel my pain as I dream of ice 
Your touch is cool, ice on fire 
But you'll melt away
Because my soul is flaming with fear
But I'll absolutely try

This flame pulses inside me
And it thunders you
You hear every pulse
whispering 'ice, ice, ice'
You know it's screaming for you 
And even if you melt away my flame
I'll absolutely try.

Can you taste my fear?
Or am I still too burned even your ice
can't heal me
I'll never be a perfect spring of water
But if you'll just take a drink
We can absolutely try.

Even though you may freeze up
around everyone so much so
that you burn everyone 
around you...I'm still going to say:
I absolutely need you.
I absolutely miss you.
I'll absolutely love you.

A world of colors, 
choices to make
Find the right one, 
I'm yours to take
Mold me, move me 
I'm yours to break.

In this world of decisions
Construct me to be the girl
of your world and illusions
Because without this magic
It'll always be the same conclusion.

Without this clay to mold;
I'm simply a lump of coal
Under enough pressure to turn to gold
But as your Play-Doh,
Make me something worth your soul.

Lie to me and roll me into another design
Mixture of colors into rainbows;  let your emotion rule
while mine intertwines
Construct a mold of what you see in me
And to life I will resign

I'll no longer be unreal; yours to keep
Make me whole, pull me together
And finally show us the rewards to reap
As your mold, your creation; I'll be yours 
I'm Play-Doh...and when you're done;
Crumble me up in one clean sweep.

Thanks for reading! 

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Fire-burnin' & Harley Quinn

So it's been a little while since I've posted and I actually have read a book since then! I'm pleased to say that I have demolished the newest in the Divergent series called Insurgent by Veronica Roth. I loved it and actually intend to read it again because I want to make sure I didn't miss anything. I feel like I flew through it a little too fast and would like to slow down and enjoy a little more. Once I reread it, I'll post a new update about the details of it.

This post is going to talk about some things that I'm currently dealing with both good and bad. So if you're looking for book suggestions or a review, go ahead and come on back later. 

Okay so here's a little background on what I'm about to discuss. Please note that there could be some serious self-pity below.

When I was going into 6th grade, my summer was definitely an eye-opener. Now I'm not sure if I hit puberty  while I wasn't paying attention then BOOM! there I am standing in the mirror trying to figure out what the hell all those spots/dots on my back were. That led my parents and I to go see a doctor about what was going on. I was one of the very lucky awesome people unfortunate kids to have acne. For me, it wasn't just acne though and at the time, it just felt like the world was ending. Throughout my middle school and high school years, I suffered from horrible self esteem issues. Not only did I always wear shirts that hid my acne, but I started getting acne on my face and chest and shoulders. On top of that, when some of the acne would go away, they were replaced with scars. Not just any scars...noooo, not for me. I started getting keloid scars. Fun fact: keloid or hypertrophic scars are scars that are raised above the skin and grows beyond the border of the actual scar. These scars started showing up about the same time I figured out that I had crappy skin so they've been a part of me for a long time. I went to the dermatologist and pretty much went through every -cycline medicine to get rid of the acne and not one of them worked. Hell, at one point, they had me putting Betadine rub (yea, the stuff the docs use to clean skin off before they cut during surgery) and it was to no avail. I'm not sure when it happened or if it truly did, but I started to get frustrated to the point where I just decided to say "Screw this." I  think it had something to do with the one time that I came out of my shell, wore a bathing suit to swim at the Va Beach Rec center, and the lifeguard freaked out thinking that I was going to spread some disease because she was so grossed out concerned about the scars/acne. I got to a point where I started wearing tank tops, sleeveless shirts, bathing suits almost to spite people. I was still incredibly self-conscious about it but I still did it. It wasn't until high school and my sophomore year that I really got to a point of acceptance. I joined my high school swim team and no one said a word. I think a lot of it has to do with the friends that I had back then. My best friend at the time practically threatened lives of people if they gave me a hard time. It was hard but I wouldn't change that experience for the world. It's how I got to where I am today in accepting who I am, scars and all. The only downside of that time in my life is the development of yet another new issue. Not only did I have scars, but I started getting pains. The best way to describe this is being pricked with needles in each individual scars (there are many). From what I've been able to gather, the pains are caused by adrenaline or stress that's going through my body and forcing the scars out against my skin. So...there's that. Going forward in my life, I got used to it. I moved on from that pain that I felt growing up and dealing with it but I do have some lapses. 

As an adult, I made the decision to look into what I could do about the scars/acne. I figured with the way technology and medicine has advanced, there might be a miracle or an idea that might work. On my own, I went to a dermatologist. That doctor prescribed me Accutane and told me I had a decision to make. If you've never heard of Accutane, it's scary stuff. It was an offer to me when I was younger but I couldn't handle making that decision at that age. Making the decision to take this medicine involves signing a contract, reading an actual book about what could happen while taking the medicine. It also requires any female to utilize two separate forms of birth control. Each month, there are tests run, questions answered, and if you don't pick of the prescription in the 7 days from the day of the blood tests; all must be repeated. So, I took a few days to think about it, talked with Cisco about it because let's face's important for him to be a part of. Taking this medicine means that no children while on the medicine, and no children for at least two months after finishing the medicine. So depending on the length of time I take the medicine, it could cut into our lives. Not that we're looking for children but life does change and things get re-prioritized. I decided to take the medicine. From September until about early February, I was good to go on the medicine. Dermatologists usually prescribe it in the winter/colder months because the medicine is actually supposed to alter your DNA in that it closes your pores and slows the production of substances in your body that cause acne and blemishes. It completely reduces oil and sweating actually slows and in some cases halts altogether.  I started on an average dose every other day then moved to daily and then a higher dosage for the first 6 months. It was an uncomfortable time because of the dryness of my skin and hair but it definitely worked. My face is clearer than it has ever been, not that it was every truly horrid in the first place. Unfortunately, the medicine focused solely on my face (guess I didn't realize how bad my face was) and only minutely on my chest/back/shoulders. My doctor decided that I needed more time on the medicine. Sadly, at that point, my liver enzymes and levels were all over the place unhealthy. I had to go off of the medicine for about a month or two until my levels returned to normal. 

During this month or two break, I started going to the gym daily. I think having a clearer face gave me more motivation to really go out and change my life. If I'm going to make one drastic change, why not do an overall drastic change. Lose weight/kill acne/demolish scars/etc. and it was going well! I zumba three times a week, I lift weights, hobble run on the treadmill, do an abs/glutes class and I'm at least 20lbs lighter. This brings us full-circle on this post and the reason I'm writing. I went off the Accutane just before I started working out so I had no idea if the medicine would really affect me and the way I was doing things. Last week, my doctor put me back on it in order to see if the medicine would work on my chest/back/shoulders now that my face is good to go. I started it Thursday and by Monday I was struggling. Because the medicine was back in my system, Monday was a rough day for me. I did my zumba workout as usual (Fire-Burnin' definitely had a whole new meaning to me) but halfway through and when it was over, I was having an incredibly difficult time. My skin was red and blotchy, and I felt like it was burning off. Imagine, if you will, having a really bad sunburn and it's 98degrees (good luck getting I Do (Cherish You) out of your head) and you have to sit in the sun sweating. That burning sensation? Multiply it by about a million ten (so you know I'm not exaggerating, I went with ten...not a million). I started realizing what was happening and just knew in my heart of hearts that I was going to have to make a decision yet again. That night I also started having the dizzy/nausea spells again. The only way I've figured out how to deal with those is laying on the floor (I wish that was a joke). 

I decided to take the day off on Tuesday to get my head straight wallow. And I did, I wallowed in my own self-pity. I knew and still do know that I could be dealing with worse things. I could be dealing with skin cancer, or any cancer for that matter like millions are dealing with. But there are some days where, even though it seems so small in the grand scheme of things, it just seems unfair. Yes, life is absolutely unfair and it's not out to be the good guy but damn it would be nice to just once not have to deal with these scars/acne/blemishes whatever you want to call them. So yep, self-pity: party of ME. I was smart enough to have a little chat with my doctor that same day too so it was a productive day of sorts. She told me exactly what I expected. I was going to have to make a decision. Either I continue the medicine, and stop working out/sweating; I continue my workout, and discontinue the medicine and deal; or I suffer through it and have the best worst of both worlds. This week was a little rocky for me. I felt like I'd made a decision and then something would happen and I'd change my mind or I felt like I wasn't strong enough. As of right now, I'm continuing the medicine but I also intend to continue working out. I have some ideas of things that might help make it hurt less to do so but only time will tell if I'm strong enough to handle it. Tuesday was difficult but I grabbed a towel from my favorite Anytime Fitness manager and it helped a little to at least get the sweat off my skin. It didn't do much for the fact that my pores were forced open by the actual sweat but it wasn't completely horrific as it felt on Monday. I still had the dizziness/nausea but that's to be expected until I can get the hang of the medicine again. I don't know what the future holds for me, but I do know that you'll be hard-pressed to get me to quit Zumba and my workouts. I bailed on Wednesday because of the heat outside and knowing that there wasn't going to be a reprieve for me as there was the two earlier days since it was cooler outside. I'll be back at the gym today, still weighing in my mind what I can actually handle and what might be too much for me. It's a hard thing to describe and explain. I've been dealing with these kinds of issues for about half my life but sometimes I still get down about it. There's nothing I can do about it, the people around me generally support me and hold me up, and even strangers don't utter a word if I wear a tank top. I'd like to think that's because of the way I hold myself. I don't mind people asking questions anymore and sometimes I just address to get it out in the open. Who knows? Maybe one day there will be a magic cure for it...or I'll get a connect-the-dots tattoo and really have a conversation starter.

Enough of that...sometimes it just helps me to write it all out. One of these days I'll get back to writing and see if I still have those writing chops (if I had any before) but for now, I'll stick with prose and writing about what's really going on with me. It helps to be able to write exactly what I'm thinking instead of figuring out how exactly to articulate it verbally. Sometimes the written word is all you need.

Now, on to more FUN topics! We're getting a puppy this weekend!! We're naming her Harley Quinn after the character in Batman. She's a 4 month old, 25lb, German Shepherd mix and we hope to meet her, lover her and pick her up on Saturday before Laila's party. We went out and bought a dog bed, toys, crate, food, water/food bowls/stand, leash and other miscellaneous things that go with getting a dog. I'm really excited and hope that she gets along with my furballs at home.

On that note, I'm going to say thanks for reading all of that and hopefully it's a little more insight into my world than you had before. I tried to smash the boring/frustrating parts between two fun parts of books and puppies but sometimes, it doesn't really matter either way.

I leave with one of my favorite quotes from a book (and one I've been quoting a lot lately...)

"I never thought I would need bravery in the small moments of my life. I do."
Tris in Veronica Roth's Divergent