Some entries are public, but the rest are locked up tighter than a chastity belt.
Comment and add me if you'd like, chances are I will return the favor. If I don't, more than likely it's because your journal is newly created, you update once in a blue moon (or you never have), or I just think you're flat-out sketchy. Odds of me not accepting your friend request are slim to none, so do it to it!

Do any of you have a Diana camera?



I was eyeballing this fiery pink 'bad boy', and my sweet, doting Steven bought me this snow white version instead-- which I wanted at least as much, if not more. Someone please tell me it's not as tricky as I've convinced myself it must be. The instructions manual is only a couple pages long, but it doesn't go into depth, and I'm a step-by-step kind of girl when it comes to using things I'm unfamiliar with.

Also, I want to say thank you to every single person who commented on my previous post. I am swiftly but surely coming to terms with things I didn't want to face. And, having warmhearted individuals give me advice on how to find clarity, makes me so very grateful for all the generosity. I wish I knew each and every one of you beautiful souls in real life, and not just LiveJournal world, because I'd be inviting you over for hot cocoa mixed in milk (can you believe people drink it with water?!) and a 90s revived marathon: The Sandlot, Clueless, My Girl, A Little Princess, The Secret Garden, and the first season of Clarissa Explains It All.

Tell me things that you're excited for, or things that have put honest-to-goodness smiles on your faces lately?

For me, it's been:
Getting a striped sleeve cardigan in the mail, and having it fit me like my exact measurements were in mind when it was made.

Renting Home Alone and watching it three times in the past week. That movie brings out the wannabe female version of Kevin McCallister in me, every time. And even though the Talkboy didn't make its appearance until the sequel, I now want a pink or purple (who has the time to be choosy when it comes to out of production toys?) Talkgirl Deluxe, so I can go around mischievously recording people's conversations, and play them back on slow-mo or Chipmunk mode.

And, lastly (but unquestionably not last on my list), waking up to Steven in the mornings; giving him little kisses despite his rank-stank morning breath, having my cheeks scratched lightly by his Paul Bunyan beard, and thinking I would never, ever want to rise up next to anyone else, but him (except for maybe also a feline companion or guinea pig).

'... Men die, but are reborn in the real world of the Great-Hope, where there exists only the spirits of everything; and we are able to know this true life here on earth if we purify our bodies and our souls, thus bringing us closer to the Great-Hope which is All-Purity.'
Héhaka Sapa, The Secret Rites of the Sioux Indians


I have a multitude of problems, ya'll. I'm not even going to pretend that I don't. But, I can rest assured that most, if not all of them, are fixable; adjustable.

I'd really love, and appreciate, if any of you ladies and gentlemen who happen to read my ramblings, could help point me in the direction of some sort of enlightened path. What do you do to purify yourself and/or ward off 'bad spirits'?

I am thinking of burning sage and sweetgrass tonight, and finishing off the quart of Breyers Cookies & Cream ice cream that's waiting for me in the freezer. That should surely do the trick. (Eating ice cream has nothing to do with purifying, it has everything to do with being hungry and on the brink of menstrual.)

I need to own a George Harrison album.

Wow, things have been so unbelievably busy that I can't even begin to verbalize it all. "Now breathe" has become my mantra, and I try to remember to do so instead of holding my breath. Still, I am assured, that most everything will work itself out. And the things that don't, weren't worth the added conditioning and tension. So fall off the boat, dead weight, you're behind me now.

Since I can't form and delicately place the right words to convey all that has happened in the past few days, I will, once again, let pictures do the talking for me.

( Surprise date #2: Sweetwater Brewery for a tour and six half pints of the freshest beers on tap. Kinda like the Coca-Cola museum, but instead of leaving with a caffeine high, we left feeling very buzzed. )

( Surprise date #3: Steven's Farm Fun field trip. )

What's not pictured: A double date with two new friends, dinner at Doc Chey's (again) with said friends, and a birthday/going away party where I reunited with my dance partners in crime.

I canceled Friendsgiving after realizing that the only true friends I have are my newly discovered ones, my family and boyfriend (maybe I'm leaving out some important figures due to bitterness). And I couldn't bare the thought of having a house full of plastic smiley faces and people there in celebration of good food and good friends, when that would be the furthest thing from what is real. I feel like my body cannot handle the amount of stress I am currently under, and I will tap out from all of its crumbling weight. On the other hand, I am reminded of how incredibly strong the human spirit is, and just when we think we literally can't take anymore, we're given a burst of extra energy that allows us to pull through. I need to recite to myself, like clockwork, that though I may be hard-pressed at times, stressed beyond what I think my limit is, and questioning everything like there is an ulterior motive, I will not be destroyed. I may be shaken, but never broken. These things I know, always and forever. Amen.

The weather has been so back and forth; psyching us out and leaving us with the sniffles, red-tipped noses, and glassy eyes. But I will no longer be fooled by the spring-like afternoons, because come nighttime, the crisp air causes goosebumps to form all over our skin and mouths emit billowing puffs of small clouds. I've been keeping warm by wrapping myself in a cocoon of coziness: spooning with Steven while ensconced under blankets, wearing opaque tights underneath my clothes, eating "thickening up for Winter" foods like homemade soups and baked bread, and drinking one cup right after the other of hot tea or coffee. Tonight I am going to make tacos for dinner, since we skipped out on Steven's request for Taco Tuesdays yesterday.

It's November already-- can you believe it?! I could barely convince myself that the month of October was over when I looked at the calendar this morning. As far as this month goes, my agenda is brimming with events and new ideas, which will include the following: Friendsgiving/Thanksgiving, planning surprise dates, school, Fall festivals, trying my hand at making candles, baking apple crisp for the first time and, of course, putting up Christmas decorations and shopping early for presents.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I'll let these do the rest of the talking.

( Star Wars: In Concert )

I guess it's about that time to bring you all up to speed with what's been going on in my life, as of late.

Fall is here (well, it has been here for a little over a month now), and I have been in the spirit of celebrating its essence. From making my first pumpkin soup, to going to a pre-Halloween costume party, dressing in layers, drinking seasonal teas (by the way: try Celestial Seasonings Gingerbread Spice) and autumn ales, planning trips to local farms for hayrides through pumpkin patches, wanting to learn how to make pumpkin butter, and possibly braving my fears of ghosts (even the fake ones) by going to 13 Stories with my brother and friends.

Steven and I started coming up with surprise dates to go on monthly; sometimes biweekly depending on our finances and the date itself. We take turns with the planning. This past Friday was my surprise date for him, and the next time around, he will have to come up with one for me. I planned for us to eat somewhere in the city, pick up desserts at the Cupcake Factory, go to the planetarium at Fernbank Science Center, and grab some pumpkin beers from the market before sneaking them into the dollar theater. But, I had to drop a few things off the schedule because we got such a late start. We did, however, eat dinner at Doc Chey's Noodle House, watch the stars and constellations reproduced by special-effects projectors, and I made more deep-fried Oreos as a midnight snack. We had a fantastic time, and I think the date left Steven contemplating on how he's going to top it come his turn. He's hinted that his surprise will include bees, and I am almost certain that we're going to a honey bee farm to learn the basics of beekeeping; a topic I have been talking up a great deal. To say that I am excited wouldn't even do how I really feel any justice. I am elated at the very thought, but don't want to say anymore about it; in fear that I will ruin the surprise that may turn out not to be a "surprise" after all (but freaking amazing nonetheless). Although, I will add, that I have already envisioned us making and jarring our own honey. :)

Okay, okay, so change of subject:
For any of you who've tried pumpkin beer before, can you please recommend me a better brew than what can be found, at say, the local grocery store or Wal-Mart? I picked up Harvest Moon a couple of nights ago, but it didn't have that pumpkin pie taste I was hoping for (which I know defeats the purpose of a beer, but still.)

Also, I really want to try this: Woodchuck Draft Cider.

Alright, friends list, tell me how you've been spending your autumn days/nights?

( The Essence of Fall... )

I was off work today, and my tired bones have been applauding me for spending time with both feet propped up on a chair, doing next to nothing.

I had my first meal of the day some time after six o'clock this evening, and since then, I have gorged myself on chicken curry and homemade deep-fried Oreos. And, while I was making a few impromptu purchases at Wal-Mart, I came across this 90s flashback goldmine. I can't even begin to express to you all just how deliriously thrilled I was to have happened upon one of my favorite childhood shows, hidden behind lackluster movies in the $5.00 bin. (Although, admittedly, I had stopped watching regularly by the sixth season; it had become more comedy than chilling, but still...)

I am very stuffed and feeling nostalgic at the moment, as well as sleepy...

Before I drift off to the land of counted sheep and Zzzzz's, I leave you with pictures of me and Steven enjoying southern comfort treats of the county fair right in our own humble abode.

( Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story... )

( Fair time, damn good times )


I could eat my weight in cotton candy and deep-friend Oreos. Just sayin'.

Tomorrow is Steven's 24th birthday. I already surprised him with two (mid-front and center) tickets to see Star Wars: In Concert (which I'm certain quadrupled my brownie points), as an early present since the rest of them won't be arriving until after I receive my first paycheck from my new job.

But as far as tonight goes, I think I will make him a generous bowl cram-packed to the brim with Muddy Buddies (with extras like caramel chips, toffee bits, and sprinkles); a tasty treat we've both been talking about for several weeks.

After two years of making plans that we couldn't put into motion, I got to hang out with Lindsey (seaurchins); my first meet-up with a LiveJournal friend. And I must say, she is one of the most beautiful Gingers I have ever seen in the flesh. At first I was every bit as awkward as I hoped not to be, but once I realized how wonderful/charming/sweet/hospitable she was, I started chatting away excitedly about this, that and almost everything under the moon. We watched The Haunting in Connecticut, which is possibly the most terrifying movie I've sat through thus far (being based on a true story made it all the more scary), while pigging out on sour flavored candies and nearly jumping out of our skin during each gasp-out-loud scene. I am elated to have found a new crafty, intriguing ladyfriend. I look forward to many more hang outs/slumber parties/movie nights/potlucks that will (very) soon take place. Don't worry, Lindsey. I won't ever spam your wall posts with penguins. ;)

In other great news:
Steven and I got a new Queen size bed and Euro Pillowtop mattress (that is 13 inches thick!). I can't even begin to explain just how soundly we have slept these past few nights. My body had become accustomed to sleeping on an air mattress and pullout couch for months, as in since we moved into the loft (November of last year). I feel like the girl from The Princess and the Pea; before I could feel every coil in my mattress from the pullout couch, and I slept terribly because no matter where or how many times throughout the night that I shifted my body, I still felt every bump, dip, and spring that left indentations across my back. But now, I'm sleeping on a sumptuously comfortable bed made of cloud-soft materials. I think my bouts of insomnia are over, for good.

I got a new job (thanks to a revised resume and a good word from Alicia!). One that at long last pays well, offers a good benefit package, is secure and seems devoid of all the things that turned me off from jobs I've had before.

And, I think I have figured out what I ultimately want to do for a living.

So, we finally, at last got to go on our one-year anniversary getaway after having our plans pushed back not one, but two times. Initially, we were supposed to celebrate last month on the date that marked one year of us being together. But the inn was booked for something like two or three weekends in a row, so we had to hold off until some other time. Steven was eventually able to make plans on Monday for an open spot on Tuesday, but as our luck would have it, the innkeeper of the bed & breakfast called us the morning of to tell us that all the rooms were booked once again (even though we had reservations). We were told that somehow her daughter booked us in on a night that showed up available when it wasn't. She offered us a discount for the inconvenience, and we made reservations for the following day. When we arrived at the bed and breakfast in Blue Ridge, Georgia, I was thrilled. Everything about the place seemed serene and beautiful, like a ghost town, but in a good way for those of us who want to be in seclusion every once and a while. Not long after arriving, my anticipation quickly transformed to disappointment. The innkeeper was out for the night getting supplies, so we weren't greeted with the complimentary desserts that are available at check in. And, we didn't get to take part in any of the activities on site like canoeing in the private stocked lake. Nor did we "learn how to milk a cow, make butter, press fresh apple cider, have an intro to beekeeping, grind wheat and make fresh bread, make soap or candles". Instead, we got to eat Chinese for dinner, rent The Last House on the Left and The Reader, and enjoy a good's night rest atop a puffy, comfortable mattress. All things we're able to do on a regular basis, except for maybe the last part. In the morning, we ate a delicious, hearty breakfast, and went back to the room to catch a little shut-eye (we were still sleepy from staying up all night and from filling our bellies until our eyes grew drowsy. We also wanted to take full advantage of the soft, warm bed that was summoning us to lie down for a couple more hours) before exploring what the town had to offer. Once again those plans were demolished because the innkeeper knocked on the bedroom door to let us know that checkout was after noon (not in the afternoon like Steven thought she had said), and by that time, it was around 12:30 pm. So, we packed up our belongings and decided it was best to not spend the rest of our trip unshowered and dressed in our clothes from the day before to sightsee around town in. We left pissed off and feeling like we got subpar service throughout the duration of our stay, because of our age. Now I'm home, trying to ward off what seems to be the coming of a cold while Steven shops for some things to make our night at home more of a success than yesterday.

I have a multitude of thoughts that are weighing heavily on my mind and stressing me out.

I crave to know more fascinating individuals. Ideally, I'd love to meet other women 23+ who established their own sense of self years ago. I want to know people I can swap stories with and have those moments where you feel like you must have had a similar talk out in the open before, because they're nodding and agreeing, and getting all the things you describe without you having to go into full detail. You know, those "me too" moments; usually the kind that signifies the start of something extraordinary and bonded? I need that right now.


( A Blue Ridge kind of anniversary )

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I kept putting off school, thinking one day I would get a clue. That affirmations of priorities, or figuring out what I want my life's work to be, would just make itself presently clear. A foundation, a confirmation-- something solid. But I waver back and forth because I haven't come any closer to knowing since when I first started out.

I watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona tonight, and I thought to myself: I want that.
But what's that exactly? To travel to faraway countries with mesmerizing architecture that many people dream about visiting in their lifetime, but never get to see (outside of picture books and movies)? Of course it's on my to-do list; it's on everyone's-- but I want to experience and get pleasure from what is now, and not hold off for later. Because what if tomorrow plus some day never comes?

So, friends, tell me how you came to the decision of what you want to do with your life? Or, are you like me, oftentimes changing your mind about life plans?

( Out and about + home life )

Most days I wake up after noon, today was no exception. I have tried to go to bed at a decent hour, but clips of different scenarios hastily overrun my mind, and I end up staying up a few hours before dawn. I don't know how to break this terrible habit. The wear and tear from lack of sleep is starting to show. I am sluggish in my movements, thoughts, and general response to everything. If my family and friends didn't know any better, they'd assume I was on some heavy drugs. I get the urge to put my head down throughout my day because exhaustion has taken it's toll on me. I need some healthy, natural remedies to help me fall asleep, peacefully.

Today, I slept in until almost noon. Steven and I had plans to go to the lake with Zaheen and a friend of hers. We packed ourselves a lunch of tuna fish sandwiches, cherries, watermelon triangles, and kettle chips. We were late meeting up-- but what else is new? I goofed off with Zaheen while Steven joined Tim at the edge of the lake to fish. We stayed until it started to rain. And even after walking over to our cars, we stood around and talked a little longer, until the rain came down in splashes instead of droplets. Now I'm sitting here stuffed from a tuna melt and salad; listening to Steven string together chords from old songs he wrote and reconstruct them into a clustered but captivating medley. While somewhat on the subject, I feel as though my creativity has been stifled, and someway, somehow I need to get those juices flowing steadily again. Something is blocking that passageway. Or maybe I just need to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

This entry is all over the place and I have no idea where I was going with this, so I'll leave you with pictures from today and my (  birthday wishlist. )

Michael Jackson, the "King of Pop", has died at the age of 50... of suspected cardiac arrest. How is that even possible?! I mean, I know he was a person just like the rest of us, but I always saw him as a supernatural being.

I don't want to believe it. I keep waiting for the news to report that it was just a hoax.

I don't even know what to say, words have failed me.

Sometimes I forget to write in this thing, and when I finally do, I don't know how to pick up where I left off.

I will try not to make this a sappy, I'm-head-over-heels-in-love-with-my-boyfriend entry, because I know that not everyone wants to hear about that lovey-doveyness day in and day out. But I will say that my instincts were right from the start. Steven is it for me. There were times in particular when I felt like throwing in the towel, so to speak. Relationships-- all relationships take an immense amount of effort. And I've always been the type to run for the hills when things treaded into shaky territory. I always want for things to go smoothly; I want to open my palms and have things handed over to me. But, I've learned a long time ago that while life may work out like that for others, easy come/easy go is not on my side. So, I have grown to inherit patience and understanding-- two qualities I did not possess until last summer.

That's when Steven enters the story. When I met him, he was in many ways an indecisive, easily agitated, "I don't want to be in a committed relationship because I like my space" kind of guy. We had both gotten out of relationships (long-term for me, short-term for him), and weren't exactly "newly" single, but enjoyed the non-committed lives we had immersed ourselves in. Still, I wasn't the type of girl to give someone the benefits of having a girlfriend without actually being one. Random hook-ups (and by hook-ups, I mean, making out and nothing more) with guys I met while going out on the town with friends were alright by me. But Steven had become a regular boything, and I wasn't going to be intimate with him, making dinner for two, having him sleep the night over my apartment several days out of the week, and do all the things couples do, but not be one. I had too much common sense and home training for that. So, we tried the exclusive dating thing, until that pact was broken some time last July when Steven's persistent, "I only want you because you've moved on and I'm now single again" ex-girlfriend came into the picture. I don't like to think about the details that probably played out the night they agreed to meet up to "talk". (Backstory: she cheated on him and was obviously not satisfied with the apologies that were given before. So this meeting was supposed to be a face to face apology; for her to finally be able to live down/with what she had done, which really translates to he had cut her out of his life and being ignored didn't sit well with her. And she, of course, had no qualms about being relentless.) But I do know that things did/didn't go beyond a certain point, because as it's been explained to me, something just didn't feel right. Steven had this girl from the not so long ago past in front of him, who seemed different since the last time he had seen her. She was not as attractive as he had remembered, and her kissing style no longer complemented his. For the past few weeks-- up until that point, he had been spending time getting to know me, taking me out on dates, kissing me and having sex with me. And we all know that no two people/bodies are alike... But to him, there were distinct differences in eyes, noses, lips, skin, breasts, legs, butt shape, touch, personal interests, everything-- everything about her fell short in comparison, and he hasn't seen her since. I'd just like to think that his vision was severely impaired and he lost his ever-loving mind for a brief moment or two; a temporary lapse in judgment when old feelings came into play, only to fizzle out and be discarded again, because no other excuse is acceptable in the least bit. But he has stood behind that fact that things didn't further escalate because she simply wasn't me. And because of that fine fact, it (whatever it was at the time-- perhaps it was his penis, because he couldn't conjure up enough emotions to feel passion, instead he felt vacant and too turned off to actually continue) didn't feel right, and therefore, it couldn't react. It wasn't long after (his fleeting but unfulfilled attempt to sow his wild oats) that he asked me to be his girlfriend. But, not before enduring a series of arguments that lasted hours upon hours on end, countless fervent apologies and wishy-washiness on both our parts-- and as if by magic, we found ourselves profoundly in love and talking about plans for our future, together.

I knew from the day we kissed that he was The One; he was the person I would be spending the rest of my existence with. I called my best friend and gushed about how I would be perfectly fine with never kissing another soul again, because I had kissed him and from there on out he would be the only man I'd ever kiss. We never spoke about marriage in a hypothetical manner, it has been certain since the day we casually weaseled it into a conversation. Well, maybe that's a lie, because there were times we said, "When we get married. I mean, if we get married..."
But that was said because at one point we were leaning more towards being life partners than getting wedded. We had seen more than our fair share of unhappy married couples, and with the divorce rate being through the roof, we feared a similar outcome. Both of our parents were divorced, and witnessing firsthand how that divides a family or brings on waves of distress years after the divorce papers were signed, was something we couldn't even fathom for our future selves. But eventually, those if talks were replaced by set in stone whens.

Lately, Steven has asked me question followed by question about what kind of ring I want, if I want my ring engraved on the inside, where and what time of year do I want our wedding to be, and where in the world do I want to go for our honeymoon. All this talk of marriage, and babies, and rebuilding our family home on my great-grandmother's farmland is making me want to run to the altar right now!

I am so happy that the once "I don't want to be in a committed relationship because I like my space" kind of guy has become a man who is ever so faithful, and, although he still likes his space (I don't expect that to change, nor do I want it to), oftentimes he finds himself becoming bored and wanting my company when he is out enjoying his alone time.

Yesterday, he picked me up from my job looking every bit the part of words like dashing and strikingly handsome; clean-shaven and all jazzed up in a suit and tie. On the car ride home, he talked anxiously about the surprise he had waiting for me. I knew he had made us a delicious dinner, but I had no clue what the other surprise(s) could be. When we got home, he told me I had to wait in the bedroom for a little bit while he added the last finishing touches to what he was working on. About thirty minutes later he called me into the kitchen, and ( ... )

Introducing my new bbgirl, Olie.



( Mini update in pictures. )

I long for some aspects of my old life. Mostly: going out dancing on weeknights and seeing my friends regularly. Now, don't get me wrong. I am blissfully in love with Steven. If there was a cloud that floated higher than cloud nine, I'd be on it. Still, with our cramped up living space (due to stuff not being emptied out of their boxes and arranged around the loft) and us not knowing anyone in this backwoods town but each other, I feel like we give off the illusion that we're a conjoined couple. I don't know how some people do it; how they become co-dependent on their significant other. I have a life of my own to live, and I want Steven to be a part of it, but not consumed in it. I have had several friends who would drop everything at once at their boyfriend's beck and call. Conversations about everything under the sun were replaced with just one topic: HIM (or her, depending on the situation). Things that were planned in advance would be put on the backburner, when some last minute (made up on a whim) thing with so & so came up. And no girls' night was complete without at least one friend who stayed huddled in a corner, repeatedly text messaging her boyfriend-- and claimed that the 100 texts sent back and forth was an "emergency situation". How convenient that emergencies only seemed to take place anytime a moment was spent away from their significant other. And, all I wanted was for them to disentangle themselves for a few hours before reverting back to 'normalcy'. I refuse with everything in me to be that girl. I will not ask for a rain check (to end up spending more time with the one person I see every single day of my life) when plans are already set in stone. I will not be that girl who incessantly gabs about her boyfriend. And I will not alienate those who I knew long before Steven existed as a thought in my mind.

My love doesn't stop with him. There's plenty to go 'round. I've got some for this friend, and that friend, and you too.


Oh, and I got the job at Victoria's Secret. It's about 30 miles away from my place and the pay is less than stellar, but I'm glad to be joining the work force again.

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor.
( Would you be mine? Could you be mine? )

Today was the hottest day of Spring thus far. I was particularly selective in my search for a good (paraben-free, fragrance-free, oil-free, hypoallergenic) sunblock, and I was relieved when I came across Neutrogena Pure & Free Baby Sunblock lotion. But, as the sun beat down on my skin while I was outside, it seemed to draw out white droplets, and the sunblock left my back slick with oiliness (and streaking on my arms and face). Looks like I will be revisiting Target to continue scouring the aisles for a sunblock that doesn't turn me a different color and/or stain my clothes.

Steven and I went to the Square for the Taste of Marietta this afternoon, but we headed back in the direction from where we came after baking in the sweltering heat for less than half an hour, and once realizing that I'm not one for crowds; especially when people take up more space than what is available, and therefore, walk into you because there isn't enough room for 5,000 on the street. Instead we had lunch at one of our new favorite eateries. We shared half a basket of strawberries, Mexican Coca~Cola, and those ( 99 cent tacos I speak so fondly of. )

We vowed ourselves to eat only spinach salads and tilapia/whiting fillets for a week, because we spent most of our money on produce and fish at the farmers' market.

So, someone with a nose rubbing fetish added a picture of Steven and I giving an eskimo kiss to their flickr favorites. According to her profile, she also has a pantyhose fetish and enjoys making love to transvestites. That's definitely treading far territory for me, and quite frankly, I don't understand how people come about having such fetishes, or becoming, let's say...objectum sexuals or plushophiles. But who am I to judge what gets someone's engine revving? I just find it to be disturbing to the utmost. And, I am weirded out.