Re: no regrets after doing this venture...

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Fwd: this has been your time to shine...

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Your question

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I am my own boss!

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The truth

Senior year has had so many good things and bad things happen, I find it odd. It was supposed to be the best year out of the four but it’s definitely not. Well in some ways it is, but others have just been completely bad. Like losing my best friend. It was bound to happen I guess but it kind of sucks we couldn’t have made it through senior year, you know? And college searching is supposed to be fun and stressful I know but am I supposed to feel this scared? I don’t to lose everything I’ve gained over my years here. Especially the person I love the most.

On the good side of things, I think I found the love of my life this year. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that he stayed by me and chose to be with me even after all that I did. I can’t even tell him. I think I’m really bad with words haha. It always ends up being awkward. But I have so much love for him that sometimes I feel like I love him more than he could possibly love me. I’ve been in that situation before and it is not fun at all. But I know he loves me a lot. And I trust him. You don’t know how good it feels to finally say that about a guy and really mean it deep down. It’s like getting over a huge obstacle. Even though my last relationship ended almost a year ago sometimes I still have those days when doubts will slip in, because sometimes I still get tricked into thinking like that about all guys. But as soon as I think about my boyfriend and how much he cares for me and loves me the doubts just…float away.

My last relationship reminds me a lot of this year. So many ups and downs I can’t believe it all got jammed into one section of time. There’s so much to forget you know? But I can’t. I can’t forget him yelling at me in my face about how stupid I am, and what a horrible family I have. What a horrible person I am, and that must be why I don’t have any friends. And how much his family hated me, and why I am not good enough for him. The horrible things he said about me to other people. I’m not forgetting the countless nights going to bed crying and hating being alone. Sometimes I still do just because I get lonely at night. Especially with the rain. I don’t forget that awful, terrible feeling in the bottom of your stomach when you are told you got betrayed. The whole cold-sweat-dizzy feeling when you automatically have to grab a chair to sit in. That is the worst. And I don’t forget being dumb and pushing it out of my head as if it wasn’t even there. The cracks didn’t count. It had to break in front of me, and it eventually did.

I’m not saying I don’t try to forget. I wish with all my heart that I could. I don’t because I can’t. But I got over it. I got over it a long time ago. It was hard to finally put it in writing because it’s like, oh wow now I actually have to believe it and if I’m wrong, I’ll never live it down with myself…but I’ve been over it for a long time now. I won’t forget it because it did affect me I can’t say that it didn’t. But I can say now that it’s pretty much done affecting me.

I’ve never really talked about this with anyone. I sort of thought most people wouldn’t really care, or they’d think I was looking for pity points or something. A lot of people probably wouldn’t believe me at that. I only just want someone to listen. I hate it when people think I’m trying to make them feel sorry for me, because I really hate when people feel sorry for me. I don’t really care about pity, I just want a hand. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you feel sorry for me. Maybe to you it’s not even a big deal at all, and I’m being oversensitive and girly. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, I want you to hold me and just listen.

I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am in my relationship now. I can’t think of anyone more perfect or with more perfect qualities. It’s been a tough year for many reasons but also the best I’ve ever had. I really really hope it never changes. This is the best thing that could have happened to me and it’s amazing to have that amazing feeling again <3

It wasn't long enough

A poem that makes you think of someone special

One kiss I place upon your perfect cheek
to show my love; it's not the only way.
I take your hand, it's intertwined with me

A gift that only you and I can see
I feel my heart must grow to bear the weight
one kiss I place upon your perfect cheek

You play so sweetly songs that I complete
I sing the words that I cannot betray
I take your hand, it's intertwined with me

Your eyes bear truth like maples bear their leaves
They raise me up in ways I can't explain
One kiss I place upon your perfect cheek

You make me be the best that I can be
My mouth is full with words I fail to say
I take your hand, it's intertwined with me

I'll take this time to tell you how I feel
My heart is full with words I need to say
one kiss I place upon your perfect cheek
I take your hand, it's intertwined with me

What your music taste says about you

Haha this was so right


Here's what your music says about your personality! Your music preferences have been broken down into four categories. Detailed explanations are below. You can also read answers to common questions.

33 % enjoys reflective and complex music
24 % enjoys edgy and aggressive music
81 % enjoys fun and simple music
18 % enjoys energetic and upbeat music



Reflective & Complex

People high on this dimension tend to enjoy Classical, Blues, Jazz, and Folk music. On the Reflective & Complex Dimension you fell in the 33 percentile. This score is quite low.
33%

Based on your responses, you scored below average on the reflective and complex music-preference dimension. Research in our laboratory indicates that people low on this dimension, like you, often have the following characteristics:

People with low scores on the reflective and complex music-preference dimension tend to be traditional, physically active, and prefer the straightforward to the complex. In addition, they're also socially dominant and, compared to high scores on this dimension, don't place much value on the fine arts. When not watching their favorite sitcoms, they enjoy watching comedy movies, action movies, musicals, or children's movies.



Edgy and aggressive

People high on this dimension tend to enjoy Alternative, Rock, and Heavy Metal music. On the Edgy & Aggressive Dimension you fell in the 24 percentile. This score is quite low.
24%

Based on your responses, you scored below average on the edgy and aggressive music-preference dimension. Research in our laboratory indicates that people low on this dimension, like you, often have the following characteristics:

People with low scores on the energetic and aggressive music-preference dimension don't get their kicks on skydiving or rock climbing. They tend to be friendly, less assertive than the average person, and conventional. They tend to place a lot of importance on family security, salvation, and tranquility. When they're not listening to music, watching television, or reading a book, they probably enjoy watching a dramatic movie, major motion picture, romance movie, or classic film.



Fun & Simple


People high on this dimension tend to enjoy Pop, Religious, Country, and Soundtrack music. On the Fun & Simple Dimension you fell in the 81 percentile. This score is very high.
81%

Based on your responses, you scored above average on the fun and simple music-preference dimension. Research in our laboratory indicates that people high on this dimension, like you, often have the following characteristics:

People with high scores on the fun and simple music-preference dimension tend to be sociable, forgiving, happy, reliable, and athletic. When it comes to morals and values, they tend be conservative, and consider family, salvation, and discipline important life values. On those days when the cable's on the fritz, they enjoy reading fashion or sports magazines, and watching a major motion picture, musical, western movie, or comedy movie.


Energetic and Upbeat


People high on this dimension tend to enjoy Hip-hop, Rap, Funk, Soul, and Electronic music. On the Energetic & Upbeat Dimension you fell in the 18 percentile. This score is very low.
18%

Based on your responses, you scored below average on the energetic and upbeat music-preference dimension. Research in our laboratory indicates that people low on this dimension, like you, often have the following characteristics:

People with low scores on the energetic and upbeat music-preference dimension tend to be introverted, less assertive than the average person, and detail oriented. As for politics and values, they tend to lean to the conservative side, and value intellect, ambition, and high art. When it comes to lifestyle, low scorers on the energetic and upbeat dimension often come from the middle and upper classes. When they're not reading, they're probably watching a romance movie, classic film, or western movie.

Someday, baby

When you're lying alone in the middle of the night,
wishing I was there to hold you tight
that's when you're gonna think about me

In the middle of the night when you're lying on your own
and baby you wish I was coming home
well I ain't never coming home
you shouldn't have treated me this way

Why did you go and break my heart?
Baby didn't you know how much I loved you?
Someday, baby

I could be a poet...

I think I could be a poet because I like to wear a lot of black.
And I can think of incongruous images like a Marxist with a trust fund.
A Porsche pulling a U-Haul, a lobsterman in Birkenstocks sipping a cappuccino,
with his pinkie pointing toward the sky.
I have studied the poets who sing song out their lines
for no other reason than that’s how it’s done,
in love with the sound of their own voices,
ending each line going up,
every single line going up,
as they read, and read, and . . . read?
See, declarative sentences that in prose would go down,
in poetry seem to go up
as if it adds some hidden meaning:
I know what I’m talking about and you should too.

And I am not afraid to get pissed off!
I am not afraid to use that ONE requisite swear word
to let you know I am FUCKING serious, man!
I’m not afraid to

SHOUT! WITH INTENSITY! AND LONG, DRAMATIC . . .

PAUSES

FRAUGHT WITH ANGST!

And still you can hear the lines going up.
And the words, the vocabulary words—
Glaconian, distemic, irrepscenteelia—
Thrown in to remind you
“I am a writer! Eat my Verbal dust!”

And then the end
Spoken softly, hauntingly tender,
Though not devoid of irony,
Ending abruptly as if there is more . . .

My Dog Ginger

by Matthew Durkley


Frantically I pawed at my pocket for my gun. Ginger stood loyally beside me, and I didn’t give her the signal to go forward. Not yet. Like a good dog, she just stood there on her toes, waiting for me to raise my hand. I knew the situation was dangerous, and I knew we’d stood together through many in the past. What I didn’t know at that moment was that this time, the effects would change my life.
I’ve been an officer for 15 years now. I was one of those people who knew their calling at a young age, and I was completely devoted to being a police officer by the time I was in high school. The idea of issuing control, of saving lives and preventing crime captivated me.

About 11 years ago, my department introduced patrol dogs. Personally I thought it was a great idea. It was a big event, and we all went through training the dogs from young ages for various police work. It was my job to train the public order enforcement dogs-or more commonly called attack or patrol dogs. The breed we used was the German Shepherd. I’ve always been a dog lover, and for me, having patrol dogs was like having another partner.

I was assigned to train a group of four pups for my section of the department. It amazed me how fast these dogs learned, and training them was like another level of bonding. I grew especially close to Ginger, who I named after her beautiful coat and deep brown eyes. Once she was trained, I brought Ginger on patrols with me. For years we patrolled the city together; whenever I was called to a scene she was with me. A great listener and trained perfectly, she proved herself to be at the top of the list of all the patrol dogs in the unit. I was incredibly proud to have her by my side. Our adventures included cornering a thief at the scene of a robbery at a general store, being on the scene at many car accidents, and most frequently, catching drivers trying to run from the law. She’d wait for my signal, and if needed she’d bring the criminals down. On duty she was my rock, my protector, but off-duty I couldn’t help treating her like a pet. I felt like our team was invincible-nothing could pass us.

Until one day.

It was springtime of 2007. Ginger and I had been partners for nearly eight years. She was getting older, and so was I, but that didn’t mean we’d lost our spark. That day, we received a rather strange call at the office. It was from the local public school.

“911 what’s your emergency?”
“There’s an armed gunman outside my school!”

I was sent to the scene. Incredibly worked up, I turned my flashers on and sped to the elementary school. While trying to remain calm, I thought about how we’d never had any problems at the local school before. Living in a fairly quiet and small town, we didn’t get much commotion at the school, let alone a gunman. Thoughts were flying through my head just as fast as I was driving. I remember knowing Ginger was beside me, in the front seat, but she wasn’t what was on my mind at that point. I was thinking about the kids.

The caller had said it was recess time, and the teachers on duty had noticed a man about medium height with a dirty blue jacket wander onto the courtyard. He appeared to be intoxicated, and when two of the teachers went to assess the situation, he pulled a gun on them. I didn’t know any more than that, but let me tell you, I was scared. Terrified.

When I got there the first thing I noticed was the silence. For some reason I thought that scene would be a huge commotion of people screaming and running around. I wasn’t exactly expecting this, but I was relieved that I didn’t see anyone hurt. Before getting out of my car, I made sure to turn on my radio. If backup was needed, it was just a short call away.

I stepped out of my car and patted my pocket to make sure my own gun was there. Ginger hopped down and followed me, panting and very alert. I saw officers Pratt and Smith pull up in the same car on the opposite side of the school. I waited for the signal that it was clear on their side, then I started my descent towards the back doors of the school.

As I rounded the corner of the back of the school I saw a few kids in the distance huddled behind a bench. I started walking towards them, and that’s when I saw the gunman. He had three children sitting down in front of him, crying and holding each other. He appeared to be reading something to them.

Rage built up inside me. I motioned my partners to cross to my side so we could try to corner the man before he could spot us. Trying to steady my own breath, I motioned silence to the kids when they saw me, but it was too late.
“Put your hands in the air!” Officer Pratt shouted.

The man turned and looked at him. When he saw that Officer Pratt’s gun was drawn, he turned back and I saw him slip a hand into his own pocket.

“Get your goddam hands in the air, now!” I shouted forcefully.
Instead of doing as he was told, the gunman started walking in the opposite direction, away from us and away from the kids he’d had cornered. He took slow steps, and I could see his elbows starting to rise. Having his back to us made me nervous though, as with Officer Smith, who drew his gun and circled towards the man, telling him again to put both hands in the air. I felt an urge to run the three kids and get them out of there, but I knew Officer Smith couldn’t bring this man down alone when I saw the man defying orders a third time. It was time to get more serious.
“Both hands in the air, or I will send the dog on you!”
At that moment one of the kids screamed, and I turned my head for just enough time for the gunman to notice I wasn’t looking for that split second. Faster than I could turn my head back the gunman whipped out his weapon, took aim at Officer Smith, and fired. Officer Smith fell backwards clutching his leg.
Frantically I pawed at my pocket for my gun. Ginger stood loyally beside me, and I didn’t give her the signal to go forward. Not yet. Like a good dog, she just stood there on her toes, waiting for me to raise my hand.
Immediately Officer Pratt rushed to his side and shouted “Take him down!” to me. Out of all the confusion I managed to draw my gun and at the same time talk into my radio. “Officer Gold requesting back-“
Mid-sentence I froze as I saw the gunman turn around and take aim at me.
His eyes were hard and red, his breathing heavy. His expression was something I still can’t describe today, one of revenge and…evil. Time seemed frozen for the next few seconds. I felt my mouth moving, forming the words “drop the weapon”, with no success. I heard myself speak from a distance, as if I was watching myself from above. The air was frozen around me.
I had hardly noticed Ginger still panting beside me, giving little growls periodically. I sensed her presence, but I didn’t want to put her in danger unless absolutely necessary. But as soon as the man raised his gun on me, something must have changed inside her. Without signal, she lunged forward.
I know she would have stopped in her tracks if I had commanded her to. She was a good dog. But I didn’t. She jumped full force towards the man’s right arm, the one holding the gun. The scene was in slow motion to me as the man turned his hand directly facing Ginger’s body.
As soon as I heard the blast, it was as if I’d been shot. I felt the breath explode out of me, and I yelled. I watched like I was looking through a bubble as Officer Pratt rushed the gunman from behind and pushed him to the ground. The scene was a blur in front of me; everything was spinning. Ginger was lying on the ground in front of them, while I just stood there, trying to get my head on straight, panting like a dog.
I ran over and fell to my knees, cradling Ginger’s head in my hands. Her fur was matted with dirt and sweat, her muzzle grey. Looking so closely at her, I realized how old she was getting, how much we pushed her and how much she pushed herself. I also felt deep inside of me just how proud I was of her. She looked at me with those deep brown eyes as if to say “Did I do it? Did I do my job?” Slow tears seeped out of my eyes as I whispered “Yea, yea you did.” She closed her eyes.
“Officer Gold. Officer Gold, repeat, are you requesting backup?”
I stood up slowly and pulled out my beaten radio. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I had used it. “No,” I said, wiping my face. “We got him Chief.”
We found out later that the gunman was after revenge on his ex wife and child, who took off and left him just a month earlier. He had been reading a letter from his ex wife to his kid at the school when I came to the scene, and it was apparently pretty heartless. But of course that doesn’t save you in this time of law, and he’ll sit in jail for years on multiple charges.
Officer Smith was taken to the ER shortly after we cleared the scene, where we found out the bullet had only grazed his leg. Far from just a scratch, but he’ll be okay. He was the lucky one. For me, it took a whole lot longer.
A few hours later, we buried Ginger in the backyard of the station. Almost all the members of the station were there, and some even said some farewell words. I was the one who kept silent.
This experience did change me. I am more grateful for every day I step out of bed, every time I see my friends at the station, and every hug I get from my family. I’ve realized just how precious every day of life is, and how hard it is to continue yours when an amazing partner is taken from your side. I’ve started a fund in honor of Ginger to purchase bullet-proof vests for all the patrol dogs in our department. People heard about the story, and how she saved the kids, and it always feels amazing when someone makes a donation. We are almost there, and then every member of our team, two legs or four, will have the full protection they deserve.
When I think about my time with Ginger, I don’t think about that day. I think about all the other adventures we had together, and even laugh sometimes. I think about her deep brown eyes and golden brown coat. How she stood beside me, fearless, mission after mission. How she died a brave hero, for the officers, the children, and for me. After that day, I vowed to be just like her in my occupation. I do everything I can do make good in this world. I want to be courageous, loyal; I want to be a fighter, and what inspires me today is the incredible story of my dog, Ginger.

Teachers:

By Taylor Mali


He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about
teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And then I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely
beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:

I make a goddamn difference!

What about you?

I love you because...

You allow me to be myself
and you still love me…

Because we can talk about anything
and laugh about silly things…

I love you because….
you are special and unique
and bring out the best in me…

Because I feel like I've finally
found someone I can trust completely,

Without worrying about the old saying
"out of sight, out of mind".

I love you because...
You're perfect, and always will be

Because you're sweet, caring,
handsome, nice, and loving.

I love you because...
I can't picture my life without you...

Or with anyone else.

I love you because you’re you….
and you’re what I’ve waited for my whole life.

Lovee

Happy Valentine's Day yayy!! :D I had the best day ever and got the best gifts ever. I have the most amazing boyfriend in the worldddddd :) And nobodyy can have him he's all mineee :) I love you Brendonn :D

Hahahaha

WOMEN AND MEN

On Nicknames
Women: If Laura, Sue, Debra and Rose go out for lunch, they will call each
other Laura, Sue, Debra and Rose.
Men: If Mike, Charlie, Bob and John go out for lunch, they will affectionately
refer to each other as Godzilla, Shaggy, Bear and Shrek.


On Eating Out
Men: Mike, Charlie, Bob and John will each throw in $20, even though
the bill is $22. None of them will have anything smaller, and none
will actually admit they want change back.
Women: When the women get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.


On Money
Women: A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want.
Men: A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants.


On Bathrooms
Women: The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 337.
A man would not be able to identify most of these items.
Men: A man has six items in his bathroom: a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor,
shaving cream, a bar of soap and a towel from the Holiday Inn.


On Arguments
Women: A woman has the last word in any argument.
Men: Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.


On The Future
Women: A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
Men: A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.


On Success
Men: A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
Women: A successful woman is one who can find such a man.


On Marriage
Women: A woman marries a man expecting him to change, but he doesn't.
Men: A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.


On Dressing Up
Women: A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, answer the
phone, read a book, get the mail...
Men: A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.


On Looks
Men: Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women: Women somehow deteriorate during the night. (lol)


On Offspring
Women: Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about
dentist appointments and romances, best friends and favorite foods,
and secret fears and hopes and dreams.
Men: A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.


And finally...
Any married man will forget his mistakes.
There's no use in two people remembering the same thing...

Things You Don't Want to Hear During Surgery

"Better save that. We'll need it for the autopsy."

"Someone call the janitor - we're going to need a mop!"

"Accept this sacrifice, O Great Lord of Darkness"

"Bo Bo! Come back with that! Bad Dog!"

"Wait a minute, if this is his spleen, then what's that?"

"Hand me that...uh...that uh...thingie."

"Oh no! I just lost my Rolex."

"Oops! Hey, has anyone ever survived 500ml of this stuff before?"

"Darn, there go the lights again...."

"Ya know, there's big money in kidneys. Heck, the guy's got two of 'em."

"Everybody stand back! I lost my contact lens!"

"Could you stop that thing from beating? It's throwing off my concentration."

"What's this doing here?"

"That's cool! Now can you make his leg twitch?"

"I wish I hadn't forgotten my glasses."

"Well, folks, this will be an experiment for all of us."

"Sterile, shcmerile. The floor's clean, right?"

"What do you mean, he wasn't in for a sex change?"

"Anyone see where I left that scalpel?"

"And now we remove the subject's brain and place it in the body of the ape."

"Ok. Now take a picture from this angle. This is truly a freak of nature."

"This patient has already had some kids, right?"

"Nurse, did this patient sign the organ donation card?"

"Don't worry. I think this is sharp enough."

"FIRE! FIRE! Everybody get out NOW!"

"Darn! Page 47 of the manual is missing!"


Ha. Ha.

Courses for Women

Taught by men, for women.

101 - Avoiding Walking In Front Of The TV
102 - Doing Housework Without Complaining
103 - Shopping: Buying What You Can Afford, Not What You Can Charge
104 - Going To The Washroom Alone (formerly Coping Without My Friends)
105 - Understanding The Male Response To "Do I Look Okay?"
106 - Exercise: How It Keeps You From Looking Like Your Mother
107 - Learning How To Initiate Intimacy
108 - How To Apologize When You Are Obviously Wrong
109 - Understanding The Male Response To "Am I Fat?"
110 - Dishwashers: Rinsing Before Is Not A Must
111 - Using The Thesaurus: Alternatives To "Make Love"
112 - The Weekend And Long Boring Walks Are Not Synonymous
113 - The Remote Control: Don't Touch What You Can't Handle
114 - You Too Can Be The One To Hang Up The Phone
115 - Hairspray: The Effects On The Ecosystem (formerly One Can Is Enough)
116 - Fishing: Being Able To Bait You Own Hook
117 - Intimacy: More Than Just Lying There
118 - Learning To Choose What To Wear In Less Than Four Hours
119 - Vacations: Doing Without Four Suitcases
120 - Makeup: The Less Is More Theory

Courses for Men

Taught by women, for men.

101 - P.M.S. - Learning When To Keep Your Mouth Shut
102 - You Too Can Do Housework
103 - How To Fill An Ice Cube Tray
104 - We Do Not Want Sleazy Underthings for Christmas, Give Us Money
105 - Understanding The Female Response To You Coming In Drunk At 4AM
106 - Parenting - No, It Doesn't End With Conception
107 - How To Not Act Like A Total Jerk When You Are Obviously Wrong
108 - Understanding Your Financial Incompetence
109 - Reasons To Give Flowers
110 - How To Stay Awake After
111 - Garbage - Getting It To The Curb
112a-You Can Fall Asleep Without It If You Really Try
112b-The Morning Dilemma - If It's Awake, Take A Shower
113 - The Weekend And Sports Are Not Synonymous
114 - The Remote Control - Overcoming Your Dependency
115 - Helpful Postural Hints For Couch Potatoes
116 - How Not To Act Younger Than Your Children
117 - You Too Can Be A Designated Driver
118 - Changing Your Underwear - It Really Works
119 - Real Men Ask For Directions
120 - How To Survive The Common Cold Like A Man


:D

Seeing another person yawn makes it very likely that you will then yawn yourself.

Thinking about yawning... or just reading about yawning... can even set you off.




So...

Did you yawn?

:P

Some drawings

I hardly ever draw anything besides horses :)

I don't draw very often but when I do it's usually of my horse. I don't know why but whenever I tried to draw my horse, Goya, I didn't like how it came out and it didn't look like him. So I started drawing just other horses...foals :)
These are all almost actual size. I keep them small so maybe someday I can have a scrap book full of them.


This one isn't really an original. I copied the idea from online. There's a bunch of cute, simple drawings that depict deep emotions.

I think these little art segments are really beautiful. It's not as "in your face" as some extravagant painting that tries to get its message across in an obvious way. I like the simplicity.

I don't usuallyy use color. There's a little bit in this but only a little, that's why I like it. Most of anything I draw is in black and white.


You walked in to my life,
But just like that,
You walked back out,
Still you will be a memory,
A memory that I have created in my mind,
Still you will be a memory,
A memory that will always be locked,
Away in my heart and my mind,
I will always have a memory of you in my heart,
And I will always carry that picture of you in my mind,
Still you will be a memory,

Falling in love

It’s something I never imagined experiencing… not like this at least.

Growing up on fairy tales and disney princess stories where happily ever afters happen after meeting that special someone and when feelings of tingly butterflies explode after your stomach flip flops and your mind turns to mush basically manipulated my entire perspective of love.

I thought that after a few flutters of the eyelashes, overcoming a villain, and finally coming to self-realizationisms, love would just appear in front of me, and I’d be happy.

But I realized that it is totally different than that.

It’s a spark that ignites when you realize you two first have that thing you’ve been looking for in everyone else. it’s the brain mush and the heart pounding and the "are you thinking about me? I’m thinking about you" inner turmoil that thrashes your mind for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. it’s the constant want to feel the warmth of your skin, the heat of your breath, the softness of your lips. it’s the wish to be with you always, and hope you wish the same.

And then, things change.

It’s the mistakes you made and almost losing the person forever. It’s the conflict that appears, the rise of the voice, the narrowing of the eyebrows, the furrowed lips, the tears, the crying, the I’m sorry, the mistakes, the shaking of the head.

The disappointment.

But somehow, despite all of the mishaps, the fights, the arguments, the anger, the frustration, the sadness, the trembles, you’re still thinking of them. You think of the lips, the hands, the fingernails, the hipbones, the ears, the chin, the hair, those eyes… those lovely eyes… and the smile, and you know you still want to be with that. alongside with the laughter, the grins, the hugs, the care, you realize it’s hard to be without.

And after accepting that with good times comes bad, and if after those bad times come terribly, but you still want to stick with them, then suddenly, you know.

definitely, you know.

It’s love.

Despite my flaws and imperfections...

Despite my flaws and imperfections, I love who I am. I wouldn't trade me for anyone in this whole world. That's how much I rock. I love my life. I have been making a conscious effort to start working out again and eating healthier. It's going well. I missed working out. Dancing is the best workout. Holy moly shenanigans, I could never explain how much I love dancing.

The Story in the Song

"Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy."
- Ludwig Von Beethoven

I've been exclusively listening to instrumental music lately (well, when it's my own decision to pick music). There's something so fantastically beautiful about music that lacks lyrics.

Especially in a day when many modern songs are filled with lyrics that totally contradict my own lifestyle. I don't party, I don't get drunk, I don't do drugs, I don't sleep around... so that pretty much makes most popular tunes irrelevant to me. Not only are they irrelevant, some of them even disgust me. I know, I know, to each their own... but popular music just isn't for me. It may be catchy, it might be "fun," but it's not what I want to fill my mind with.

Sometimes I feel as though music with lyrics is just a cheaper way of telling a story. The story the artist wishes to convey cannot be expressed by their melodies alone, so they have to add words. To me, music should be able to stand alone. The story should be clear, even without the words. And perhaps, the listener enjoys the presence of the lyrics because they don't have to work to understand the meaning. It is all written out for them.

I find such beauty in instrumental music. Sometimes, I believe, it does much better to weave a story than the lyrics do. Lyrics can be messy and cumbersome. They can actually detract from the meaning of the music.

For example, let's think about love songs. I believe music is one of the greatest ways to express love. After all, love is often indescribable. However, I often find myself distracted by names dropped in lyrics, or the incredible specificness of situations described within the lyrics. When I hear a song about love, I feel like words are not necessary; tell me a story of love, weave it in the melodies and harmonies. That way I can fill in the blanks and think about the love I've experienced.

Lyrics interject someone else's thoughts into your own mind. They tell you what you must believe the song to be, they force the song into a box which you cannot pry open. One of the greatest gifts that music offers us, is the ability to imagine our own story within the notes... sometimes when lyrics are present, that ability is taken from us.

Instrumental music tells a story in crescendos and decrescendos. It conveys emotion through the melodies and harmonies.

Earth Song

Sing, Be, Live, See...

This dark stormy hour,
The wind, it stirs.
The scorched earth
cries out in vain:

O war and power,
You blind and blur.
The torn heart
cries out in pain.

But music and singing
Have been my refuge,
And music and singing
Shall be my light.

A light of song
Shinging strong: Alleluia
Through darkness and pain and strife, I'll
Sing, Be, Live, See...

Peace