~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

ICY HOT and tears do not mix

I am learning, when chasing a dream you have to know your limitations. Sometimes a skill is just out of your range. Doesn't mean you can't acquire that said skill with hard work, it just takes time to get where you want to be.

It's 3am, I should be sleeping but instead I'm riddled with a sharp pain in my shoulders. A few days ago, I helped my parent's move out of my childhood home and into a condo. I should have helped my sister organize the new kitchen but nooo, I had to prove that I had the strength of Xena the warrior Princess. I'm paying the price of my ego.

On a more random note, check out these shoes from 1999 that I found in the small garage. I'm 6'2, all leg, so, you can tell how freaking tall I was in these babies. I wore my 3inch wooden platforms religiously.

Check out the cat, Bebe who's poking her head around the bend. S'up Kitty.


This year has been full of changes. My parents moving and my Uncle is really sick. Mom says he's probably going to pass away soon. I'm realizing that life never stays the same. The trick is to embrace the change. Roll with the punches, if you will.

And if those lessons are not learned, at least remember to chuck your ego out the door when seizing your dream.

*We are pleased to announce that a special someone will guest post on Monday. You won't want to miss that day.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Dear St. Valentine: Shut up.

February challenge: V-Day Horrors

There are certain things you should not say to someone you are romantically involved with-
Please note that sadly, I have uttered each line to a lover.

1-Before I kiss you, I have to ask, do you have herpes?
2-You must have a small . . . ego because you sure do overcompensate.
3- Sorry, Darlin' but you are officially one of those crushes who have been crushed.


My mouth gets me into trouble, which is why I don't celebrate Valentines.
Let's see, worst gift ever? A relish serving tray from 1978. Seriously, I wasn't even born when this gift was made. Plus, the gift was stolen from the miserable meathead's mother.
Why put up with this horrid gift? Three words, animalistic makeout sessions.

Best Valentine's gift ever would have to be from my dearest devilish dude-Sorry, ladies, he's gay. Every year, Jameses buys and frames a printed portrait for me to inspire my writing, or so he says.

Here's hoping everyone has a gaggingly perfect February. And if not, I have serving tray you can re gift. C'mon, I know you want it.