Bam. Just like that.

Friday night. Kiki and I, spirits soaring, drive up Port Republic Road. With Jimmy Johns Vegetarian subs in our laps and Burnetts riding in the back sat covered by the ominous paper bag, what could possible go wrong? The promise of another crazy weekend was surely in store.



We scarf down our sandwiches in nearly record timing as we sit "Indian style" at my toque wood kitchen table. As i heaved my sandwich in my mouth, i wondered how many Jimmy Johns sandwiches had been eaten at that same table this semester. No matter now...



As we wash down our subs, we lightly whisk ourselves to my closet where the fashion show begins. On such a night as this (no particularly special night at all) we needed to look, as some would say: "hot". We giggle, and squeal at the various wardrobe combinations sprawled out on my living room floor before us as if we were children gazing into the window of a candy shop. We, as women do, compliment each other on each and every outfit that is put on, boosting each other's self esteem with each gratifying comment.

After our hours of primping, prodding, tweezing, and applying all of our silly makeup, we looked in the mirror, feeling like 'a million bucks'. Then, come the sister shots... with Lil' Wayne as our personal entertainer for the evening, we began laughing, throwing back pomegranate flavored vodka from Tye-dye shot glasses. I consciously laugh at myself as Kiki teases me for my need of a Diet Coke chaser... She always was tougher than I...The night was, as to be promised, filled with fun, friends, and dizzying dance sessions...So how did all that fun result in waking up at 5am shaking uncontrollably, skin, hot as molten lava, though feeling like i was freezing? Simple answer, my friends:



A lethal combination of pomegranate flavored burnettes, stress, lack of sleep, and poor sources of nutrition... this all boils down to one culprit...



college.

Indian Rocks

Soft barren feet

leave dusty tracks

in that once, so familiar place.

an echo resounds.

Head turning melodies in her mind take her back

to the vast ocean covered by a cool palet of brilliant blues and greens.

She plays, feels, floats, in its fairness.

grasping for what is not hers to share

White grape juice

and grilled cheese sandwhiches,

one thousand riches cannot compare.

An infinate, aching in her bones.

Longing

to return.



Her soft blonde hair fades in time,

whimsically, her white sun dress follows.

She searches

and searches for innocence lost

amongst optimism.



His eyes do not hold hers.

A death is evident.

Charades begin. Yet,

Hope lurches as a child to a raft.

Standing on bended knees,

from time to time.

She is free.

You might say, I'm a dreamer.

Today, fall asleep. Today, take a nap and dream about your entire life in a flashback type of style. Dream about your first bike, and the day your sister popped the screen out of your window to play "drive-through" with you and your big brother. Dream about your mother taking you to your first musuem and being in awe of the larger than life figures that stood as sky scrapers around you. Stop and look at them. Dream about your first lie and the way it made your tummy feel a little different than it had before. Dream about your first love, and your first heart ache. Dream about your first day of high school as that photograph of the pretty girls with blonde hair on the lacrosse team freezes in your brain for a split second. Go back to the day that you were dissapointed for the first time. embrace with your whole self what that felt like. Dream about what it would be like had you made another choice, taken another route. Dream about your first real friend. Dream about your regrets and your accomplishments. Dream about the first time you broke a 30 second 50 meter freestyle on your swim team. Dream about the sun on your skin and the how the water felt rushing past you on the day you were so angry and swam out into the ocean untill you couldn't do anything but just float... Breath it in and remember how it made you feel so very small, yet not insignifigant. Dream about a life of beauty as the colors flash and replay like an old film reel in your mind. Then........ open your eyes, take a deep breath, and today, change your life to what you want to see the next time you fall asleep and dream.

What is beauty?

Disclaimer: This was originally a journal page, but i felt the need to blog it... so here it goes:

Beauty is everywhere. Beauty is something held deep within each and every soul. This is not to say that every soul is beautiful, but rather we all possess beauty. We own it inside of us and reveal it in ways that are beautiful to some and just plain ugly to others. Beauty is transparent, raw, and candid. Beauty has no eyes or ears. It feels, radiates and pierces to the deepest parts of our core. Beauty is essential to the survival and health of the human spirit. Beauty has the power to create life and destroy life. We so often recognize it all around us and deny it to ourselves. We give it and receive it. We let is pass us by. Beauty is in a voice, a look, an action. It is a disease that feeds but can deprive the essence of who we are. Beauty intoxicates and lures. it warms the hearts of some and hardens that of others. Beauty is a canvas that holds a different painting in each individual mind. Beauty is a single mother, a sun rise, a supermodel, a man who abandons all to love his partner, and a woman who does the same. It is a child who recklessly embraces play time, a drawing, a widow's silver hair, and a joyful spirit. Beauty is all of theses things and more. It captivates, entices, heals, changes, accepts, and is everlasting. Anyone who denies beauty, denies themselves.

(Special thanks to Kiki Batten for provoking such thought.)

Love...ew.

My life is so full of love. It is devastingly tainted by it as well... I have come to realize that love is something that is so vast, so wide, and so frustratingly complicated, that when you come across it, you don't know what to do with it. I have never come across more versions of love in my entire life than I have in the past year. I have seen love blossom and grow so organically, and I have seen it stripped from some of the people that deserve it the most. I am under the impression that everyone who knows exactly what they would do when they come across that "divine" love are the very people that let it slip right through their fingers. I am, tragically, one of those people. I allow myself to feel, and touch, and play, and embrace such a beautiful love with someone... and like clockwork, I allow it to become damaged and scarred. I will not be one to take full responsibility, however, I am indeed, my own worst critic. Some of the very people i love the most are the ones who are the best at giving love, yet they don't recieve it. I, on the other (less desirable) hand, am given a love some people would die for and... I yawn... Life is chuck full of irony... I want to become a lover, a best friend, and a life partner to one person in my life... so why in the world would I be so apathetic to someone who wants all the same things I do.