My heart hurts.

(500) Days of Summer

"Darling...I don't know how to tell you this, but there's a Chinese family in our bathroom."

Halleluiah!

girls and boys.

" there's a boy next to me

and he never will be

anything but a boy at the bar.

and i think he's the tops

he's where everything stops

how i love to love him from afar. "

brazen venture

if boldness is reckless, if it is inconsiderate, and unpleasing, and adventurous, let me find it.

if boldness requires ambition and crossing the line and stepping up to the next level in relationships, let me endure whatever pain it might cause to conquer my fears.

if you think i don't mean it, that i'm not action, not talk, you haven't seen me in action or in talk - wait a little. it takes weeks and sweat and tears to muster boldness, you know.

if boldness leads me to new places, to new faces, let me go there, be in that moment.

if boldness is what it takes to find you, well boldness, wrap me up in open arms.

Running Away.

I went away to forget. Isn't that why people go away?

And all I could do while away was remember. All I could do was remember every conversation, every look, everything. All I can do is remember.

Maybe it would be wise to stay put the next time I want to forget.

Adrenaline.

I'm not sure why I torture myself like this; this nagging, tremor on my lips as I shut off the light, this persistent need to pull the covers tighter and tighter, up to my neck and over my eyes. I think I'm addicted to being a nervous wreck.

Horror films. Not really the bloody, gory kind..but more the kind that make me believe in the psychology of it all. The kind of horror that's all in my head. That's the kind that really gets my blood rushing, pulsing. It's the kind that makes me want to rip my hair out in frustration, and crawl under ten blankets with someone who will hold my hand.

So, as I sit here typing this...I'm stalling. I'm stalling, and stalling, and stalling because I don't want to turn off my desk light. I should probably shut my closet door because who knows what will crawl (shuddddder) out of it once I turn off the light. My roommate went home for the weekend...which is never a good thing after a night of weird, psychological scream-fests.

Stalling. How long can I possibly stall before my eyes droop and my fingers go numb and I think of any other crazy bull to write? .... Okay.

Okay, I'll turn out the lights. Now. Now.


... Now.

Once Upon a Street

I'm head over heels with Jack Savoretti's voice; that sweet, wistful voice. It's laced with serenity, the kind that makes me want to fall fast asleep in a field of wildflowers.

Marriage 101, right?

People fall out of love all the time. It's like this contagious disease (yes, I just compared falling out of love to a disease. A contagious one, at that). Its become the norm, it seems, which I find to be extremely depressing.

Want my conclusions? Married couples stop holding hands after a while. They stop stealing glances at each other from across the dinner table (instead they yell at their kids to sit up straight and eat your potatoes!) They stop going on dates, stop surprising each other, stop caring. Or so it seems.

Maybe I just have skewed, biased perception of what a marriage looks like, but I have to lay this on the table. I don't want a marriage that looks like that.

I was talking to some friends tonight over heaps of spaghetti and from-scratch chocolate chip cookies, and I've come to some serious conclusions about my future. I don't (and sure as hell won't) end up with a dud marriage. (I know, I know, you're thinking well goodness, girl! One step at a time...don't you have to find a guy first? Hmmm?) Yeah, yeah...that's just part of the equation...but I'm stepping up on my soapbox tonight. Just let me talk.

I want the kind of marriage that brings laughter all of the time. I want to sit back on the couch at night and cuddle just because. I want to go on surprise dates, and travel to crazy places, and tell secrets at 3AM because isn't that what best friends do?

I want to be secure, but not so comfortable that everything seems dull. It's got be be this constant haze of underlying excitement, because I think when that passionate spark goes out, so does the light in married couples' eyes. I've seen the dullness. I don't think I can handle that dullness.

I want to argue and then make-up. I'm not asking for perfection or too much at all. I'm just thinking that if marriage is the ultimate step, the final step of a relationship....why spend it with someone that doesn't do all of these things with you? Why venture 10, 20, 50 years with someone who doesn't always rock your boat, make you smile? It's not a complicated task. It's about keeping the light in your eyes after life seems to crash and burn with every complicated, minute struggle.

Whew. I'm glad I figured all of this out now. I feel ten steps ahead of the game. And it is a game, you know.

A bit morbid, I suppose.

I've always had a fascination with fortune tellers, with mystics who believe they know the future, with palm readers and tarot cards and horoscopes. It's kind of terrible really, this fascination. I used to read my horoscope every day during high school years, just to see if anything would come true.

Funny though. I never act upon my fascination. It goes against everything I put my faith in, but it's there, nonetheless.

Often I wonder what the next day will hold. I wonder if my dreams will come true, if luck will find me when I pocket that heads-up penny on the sidewalk. Don't we, as humans, desire to know our fate, the outcome of our tomorrows, our next ten or twenty years? Don't we want to believe in the fates coming together to stitch our every second, every minute? I think we do, deep down, but I know that it's this terrifying thing to admit.

If you could know when, down to the very second, your death would take place - would you live life any differently? Would you challenge your beliefs? Would you defend yourself, stand up for anything and everything? Would you be bold in every action, every word that comes from timid lips?

I don't know. I don't know if I would change everything or not. All I know is that I'm living a surprise. I'm here and tomorrow is not guaranteed, and next year is not certain, and I don't know where I'll be, who I'll be in ten years.

But I think that as curious a person as I am, and as much as I would love to go have my palm read, my secrets and future revealed...there is a part of me who lives for the surprise in every day. I live for the not-knowing aspect of tomorrow. I wake up every morning anxious, not because I'm dreading the day, but because I might meet someone new, or stumble upon an adventure waiting to happen.

Although, as a writer of fiction, there is that God role that seeps through every word my characters say. Sure, I am creating an entire world, a world where anything goes and the people I create dote on my every move, but there is still that element of surprise. My own writing always comes as a shock, especially when I'm writing stories. I don't know how the end will turn out. I don't know where my characters will end up. I just write, I just live, and whatever happens happens, for better or for worse.

Lord, let me live until I die -- Will Rogers

Outlook.

Sometimes you're the bug.

Sometimes you're the windshield.

50k.

We're three days into classes and I'm already behind.

I think I'm gonna run this race with my shoes off, hair flapping crazily in the breeze. No shortcuts, no water breaks, just air, air, air, and the occasional fan shouting "you can do it, you can do it!"

I am so not a runner.

Open Arms.

A lot of the time, people leave.

But sometimes, if you are really lucky, people come back.

People come back and you get to sit on a pretty pink bed and eat clementines (that aren't cookies) and watch the moon slither through the trees like silk.

Sometimes, people come back.

Chattering T-t-t-eeeth.

I'm wearing my snowboots (the farmer/hunter pair), a hoodie on top of a long sleeve, and gloves. And I'm inside, at my desk. I keep trying to move around the house, thinking maybe the living room will be warmer, or the kitchen might be a bit more cozy.

To no avail, I've finally moved back to my bedroom and have resigned to bundling up because clearly, my house is just not warm.

I think it's time to break out the beanie. But I suppose I didn't need a cold house to make me break that out, huh?

Weird, True, and Freaaky.

I have about two or three more adventures up my sleeve before I leave for school on Sunday. A road trip to Bucknell, an ice skating something or other in Sunbury... Mexican enchiladas for lunch tomorrow, Chinese take-out for dinner. Try not to be jealous.

This year is certainly turning out to be Aeriale-friendly. I've had time this week -- time to relax, to fake naps, to read for pleasure and at my own leisure, to visit old friends, to journal, to shop, and to practice my Uke skills. I've spent time with my brother and sister watching Weird, True, and Freaky on Animal Planet (which, if you haven't even heard of, you need to check out). I've played my step dad in numerous rounds of ping pong and won a few games. I've spent time with God. I've spent time with my good 'ole dog. I've spent time with me, just putzing around and figuring out what I want for myself in this new year.

I don't think I'm quite ready to head back into the chaotic routine that is my life at Behrend, but what choice do I have in the matter? I'll be headed down the road bright and early in 4 days, wishing that it wasn't that time again.

Time. Time. It steals us away, doesn't it? It fools us and tricks us and loves us. It messes up our schedules and plans and shoves us over cliffs. But sometimes, sometimes, Time is on our side. This week has been a good week, and it's only Wednesday, so I'm going to sit down for another round of Animal Planet with the sibs and fall into bed with Time on my side. At least for another 2 days.

Coolest Sister Ever Award

Just spent two hours helping the little brother build a super cool Star Wars lego ship. Am officially The Coolest Sister Ever.

dirty little addiction

I have a thing for calendars. I think I've always loved them, and I can't remember a time when I didn't have one or two or five pinned up or taped down somewhere. Always, during Thanksgiving break, I scour the malls or specialty shops for the perfect calendar to ring in the new year. Of course I don't just stop at a wall calendar...I buy one or two little day-by-day calendars to tear off pages every morning. It's become a ritual.

It's ironic, too. I will never be able to tell you the date. You're lucky if I can tell you what day it is..so, the question lingers, I know: why buy five calendars every year? What's the point if not to know the date, the day?

I buy the day-by-day calendars because I love the quotes. I'm a quote-lover, indeed. And we all know I love surprises. So, it's like a two-in-one bundle of amazingness. I get my surprise quote every morning! It's better than waking up to a cup of coffee, and puts no hair on the chest. ;) I buy the regular wall calendars for the monthly picture -- my search for the perfect wall calendar takes so long because I'm going to be staring at the same picture for about 4 weeks...so it needs to be a damn good picture. (If I'm lucky, my big calendar has monthly quotes...so there's another added bonus!)

There you have it, my dirty little addiction. It's cheaper than booze and more fulfilling than coffee - not that I have an affinity toward either.

day-by-day tear off quote: Put your heart, mind, intellect and soul even to your smallest acts. This is the secret of success.

NYC 2009-10 Videos

NYC 2009-10 Pics

Bold as Love.

I lost myself in 2009. Here's to finding myself again in 2010, cheers to being bold, clinks to doing crazy things, having a blast, falling and falling and falling and learning how to pick myself back up, always.

Thank you 2009 for

swiftly showing me the world
opening my eyes
bringing friends with beautiful jewels of wisdom and
laughter to keep me smiling
dragging me up from a continual rut
addicting me to blogging
providing me with hope and pain because without either,
I would not be the person I am
allowing me to feel
for someone so much it hurts
reveling in the end of an amazing year with a bang, confetti, and boldness.