Today

I wore one sweater less than usual, half the usual amount of time.
I saw a fruit fly.
I wore capris (red).
I turned on my car AC.
It almost hurt to touch my car steering wheel after work.
I smelled flowers even when I can't see any.
I think Spring is a comin'.

Nothing

When nothing is on my mind, I do nothing perfectly.
I see nothing wrong with nothing on my mind.
Nothing can inspire me like nothing can.
And I am bothered by nothing; that is, nothing bothers me more than anything and anything I do means nothing to nothing, so why is anything on my mind?
Is anything worth nothing, or is nothing worth nothing?
I want nothing on my mind.
I do nothing better than anything.
Nothing happens and I feel nothing.
Nothing could be better.


First, I wrote Nothing. Then I saw nothing here.

Pay It Forward....

Pay It Forward
Lucky you!

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me!

My choice.

For you.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1 - I make no guarantees that you will like what I make! (Though I may ask some questions during the process.

2 - What I create will be just for you.

3 - It'll be done this year (might take a little while).

4 - You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry or an article. I may crochet or quilt something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!

5 - I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same.

The first 5 people to do so and leave a comment telling me they did win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me!

Oh, and be sure to post a picture of what you win when you get it!

Good luck!

As Long As There's a Drawer. . .

I realize the reason I like blogging so much is because my blog publisher really likes all the things I have to say. I don't get rejection very often.

This morning I got this SASE back from my university's literary journal, Touchstones. I had submitted 7 small works of which I was moderately to greatly proud. The self-addressed stamped envelope had very pretty writing on the front (ahem, mine) but it looked much too clean, thin and hastily posted.

I smiled and said to myself, "Ah, my first rejection letter!"

Sure enough.

I permitted the smile to leave briefly, but ordered it back to work not a moment later.

I put the letter, the envelope I bought, the stamp I paid for, my handwriting, in that drawer of stuff you aren't sure what to do with but will worry about later.

But I won't worry about it later. I'll worry about the next one. It'll be bigger. When I send it, I will have shaky confidence. When the reply comes, it will hurt no matter the reply. You know, cry if you do, cry if you don't...or something like that.

It's humbling, to think you may have had at least one out of seven good ideas actually be good and to have another not think so. But, think of it as another form of rejection: you're just not what they're looking for; doesn't mean it's not good. It'll be good for someone, someday.

To Boldly Go

I feel like misusing adverbs unwisely.

I slept smartly most of the night without coughing.
I was helpfully grateful to wake up feeling snarlingly better.
I went to work stonily and drove the bus quite forwardly.
I returned home painlessly.
Hopefully, I ate seaweed rolls and understandingly checked my email.
The sun shone thirstily.
I looked shamelessly out the window.
I blankly took a shower and dressed my body immensely.
I drove sensibly to my parents' house.
The printer repentantly delivered my homework.
I nauseously returned to my apartment.
I rightfully think of nothing.
In this state I type; indisputably.

All I'm Not Going to Say

The moment she made the suggestion, I felt good; I felt I needed to say yes and somehow wanted to say yes.
You called and I felt nervous, and confident.
I saw you and my heart jumped just a little.
From the moment I saw the length of you stride I felt I could be perfectly at ease in myself, so that's what I've been.
I have felt this way before, but deeper; I don't really know you. I met a guy that I clicked with the same way in the beginning. He was my boy friend that I had let become my best friend, but we ran out of common goals and had to bring it to an end. I didn't think I'd ever feel that way with someone else.
But I felt like that with you, date one, date two.
If I've seemed too forward, in my defense, you make me feel the way that releases those actions. I'm a very 'one man woman' and when I feel a certain way, affection naturally accompanies my actions. So although I may have given the impression that I move fast, I actually don't. But I felt so immediately natural in your presence that this side of me that reserves itself for just one someone that I've known longer and am ready to know better came out.
I can control myself though. Whatever you need to do you should do. I won't let my feelings be influenced by what you're feeling. . .until you tell me what you're feeling. Same for my thoughts by what you're thinking until you tell me what you're thinking. At least, I try. . .
I just like you. That's all. I'm interested, I'd like to know you more.
It's not elementary; I want to send more than a candy heart message.
It's not high school; I drive that to school every morning and take it home every afternoon.
It's just a chance to know you and a chance to be known.
So far, just a spark. No real danger.
I guess that's all I'm not going to say.

Randomblings

I went to a new grocery store in town. It's fine. I wandered around, scoping out the goods and not so goods and found about everything I wanted and more things that I'd forgotten I wanted, all except avocados. The line of available cashiers looked at my approaching cart longingly for the chance to be the one to pass its contents over their scanners. I didn't pay attention to the bagger, really, but I'll never forget him (although I wouldn't be able to point him out to you, if you come with me, if I go again). I bought two tomatoes, two gallons of milk, one bag of green grapes, some meats, some yogurt, a box of Ritz crackers, a bag of frozen berries, Febreeze and Comet...the bagger didn't put the two gallons of milk in a bag and yet when the final count came up, I had 15 items and ten plastic grocery bags. The tomatoes were in a bag by themselves, as well as the small bag of berries. They're bag happy at Buy Low! Or maybe they just haven't taught their baggers well.

While on the bus I saw a girl in another car mouthing (so I assume she was singing) the words to the song on the radio station playing in my own ears. It was funny.

Since I've been in this bus, there has been a DC sticker stuck on part of the front engine compartment. So today since it's cold I've been wearing a beanie, but it's like a fancy white one that looks hand made and all, but this girl asks me if I'm a skater as she looks at the sticker. I say, "oh, no. I don't know who put that sticker there." Pause. "Well, you look like one." A laugh jumped out of my mouth and I smoothed it out with a smile. If you only knew...me on a skate board.

I 'saved' $4000 on a thing that I'm not saving $1500 for, all by practicing patience. So in other words, I'm not paying $5500, but only $1500, because I'm a quiet and well practiced patient person. Love when that pays up.

I have had like 8 dates in 3 weeks. It's nearly killing me. At any rate, I'm myself on each date, so I've felt like I've been spreading myself thin. I'm much more of a one man woman. There is one in particular that I like best. He should call me again.

My roommate left to France for ten days and for some reason I've exploded in our room...It's messy. Hasn't been that way for a long time. Don't worry. I'll clean it.

Well, that seems good enough.

Me Random Rights

* I am a writer of the Real Life Department, 24th district.
* You are under observation.
* You have the right to remain silent.
* Anything you do or say can and will be used for my own purposes in a future story of mine.
* You have the right to talk to anyone and it is preferable if others are present with you during observations.
* If you cannot actually afford an entertaining entourage, one will be fictitiously appointed for you if I so desire.
* If you become aware that I am observing you, you have the right to end the scrutiny at any time.
* Do you understand each of these rights as I have explained them to you?
* With these rights in mind. . .just beware.

My Present to Morrow

I don't really know you,
But I want to.
Naturally.
I hope we hit it off permanently.
I will spend the whole day with you
Of course.
And as soon as I get a feel for you
I'll want to live one more day
To know you again.

I will meet you before the sun.
And when he catches up
At Dawn
You will be the shadow,
Rain or shine,
Cuffed to my hand
Until Dusk.

The clouds whisper your mood.
The stars wink incessantly.
But I don't believe they really know
What you hold.
And even when you hold me,
I will reach for you still.

Is there nothing I can bring you?
Is there anything you need to tell me,
That I will need to know?
You may bring me joy
Or sorrow
And I will bring my all.

All I have is this Present
And I seem to remember
That you gave it to Day
So I don't feel that I can give
What isn't truly my own.

As long as you will be there
For me,
I promise I will not look back
And cheat you;
I don't mind always being one step behind
If you don't mind.

Then this is my Present to Morrow:
A song, one song, one tune.
I will hum it
For you
And you will bring it back
To me.
You won't need to wait for me;
I'll be ready.

I've been meaning to blog lately. . .