I am going to move to the mountains. That is a life goal. That is high on my priority list. I have said it before and i’ll say it again: I’m not living in Florida forever. I need to be in the mountains. It’s funny, I was listening to Delilah last night when I got home. No, I never really listen to her lol but my MIL was taking care of the cats and she left the radio on here for them so they wouldn’t get too lonely. Adorbs, right? But for real, as soon as I walked into the house I had to cook the kids dinner. We didn’t really plan for that so I made pancakes and fried up some sausage lol. So while I was cooking, Delilah was on and she was talking about being where your heart feels full, being in a place that feels good to your soul. She had to live in big cities due to her career but finally got to the point where she could return to the country. She said she just feels at peace when she is outside among trees and flowers and fields of grass and AMEN, sister! AMEN! I feel at peace in the mountains. It feels right. It feels like I belong there. I could just climb to the top of a mountain and sit there….. for HOURS. Just thinking. Looking around. Watching clouds. Watching birds. Looking out at the range. Watching the leaves fall from the trees. Jumping stones over streams. That’s just the kind of shit I need to be doing in order to feel right lol.

I bet you thought I was going to tell you all about my trip lol. Wrong.

The whirlwind of things and things and things has begun. I keep forgetting to try and crack the algorithm lol. You know how stuff just happens in waves? There will be like a quiet period and then BOOM everything is chaos. Not even particularly bad or anything, though there is usually some bad mixed in there somewhere…. just stuff. Busyness. It happens in cycles or something. I’m in one right now.

We hiked up to Rainbow Falls. Literally lol. I love how our tax dollars go towards the maintenance and preservation of state parks and what not but I don’t like those signs in the state parks which tell me when I can and can’t visit, where I can and can’t go. We totally ignored the sign that said not to climb on the rocks lol. We climbed all the way to the top of Rainbow Falls and had lunch right there on the ledge. I mean it’s not like we were scaling a fucking wall or anything lol calm down park rangers. My element? My element. And I just cannot be in my element without talking to God. I talk to God frequently. By frequently I mean when i’m in my head, i’m often times having conversations with God. But when i’m in a place where my soul feels right, like the mountains, there’s just something extra special about my talks with God. They seem pivotal. Monumental. I just feel so much clarity, it’s amazing. So, while Kevin was taking pictures and Shannon was snacking and enjoying the scenery, I climbed a little higher and found a private spot to pray. Gratitude just poured out of me, I could feel so much gratitude it made me a little lightheaded. Just full of thankfulness. For everything. Everything.


I used to yell at my grandma when I was little. It wasn’t always as beautiful of a picture as I paint it. Going from chaos to order was a little too much for me at times. So i’d buck against her rules. And there were many times in which I told her I hated her. I even told her I hoped she’d die. Writing that makes me want to curl up into the fetal position on the floor right now. But it’s the truth. It happened. I used to blackmail my sister. I was so jealous of her. She always had good grades, she loved doing her homework, she was a really hard worker, very orderly, very obedient, very normal. Just your typical, all-around compliant child. Always got her way. Got all of the attention. And so, I didn’t always treat her well. Don’t get me wrong, we were the best of friends at times, this isn’t anything too far out of the ordinary. Typical sibling rivalry. But still. I treated her like shit a lot of the times. And when she started getting old enough to stand up for herself, i’d fight her. Literally slam her to the ground. It was fucked up. I had anger issues when I was a kid. I constantly felt misunderstood and mistreated. My rage was out of control. I was the one turning the house upside down. I was the one breaking every single rule there was. I was constantly pushing buttons and boundaries. I was just difficult. I even took advantage of my mom when she had an alcohol problem. I got sick of her shit, sick of her drinking all the time, sick of her being irresponsible, sick of her treating my dad like shit, sick of her spending all of our money, just sick of the whole thing. So, i’d get what I could out of her. I’d take some of the money she stashed away and there was nothing she could really do about it because she wasn’t supposed to have it in the first place. Yep. Yours truly really did that shit. I remember I found a stack in a picture frame when I was cleaning one day and I straight up told her I was taking some of it to order pizzas for me and my friends. Told her. Didn’t ask. Told her. When my parents would try to control me, i’d just leave. I’d leave and stay with friends for days at a time. I harbored a runaway under my bed. He was a couple years younger than me, told me his parents beat him. Told me he was scared to go home. So, I hid him under my bed for an entire fucking week. I’d sneak him food and stuff during the day and he’d come out at night when my parents were asleep. Fucking crazy. I did that. I kissed someone else’s boyfriend. He was a good friend of mine. He’d always come over and play video games with me and watch corny 80’s movies. I was 17. We had just gotten done watching some lame movie. I don’t know how we ended up in the bedroom, I think he followed me in there. We were just friends. I had a crush on him but could have sworn I never gave it away. I guess it was just one of those unspoken things. I glanced up and he was right in front of me. He said he wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know what to say or think but before I could even respond, he was already kissing me. I didn’t start it but I didn’t exactly shove him off of me or anything. That’s probably one of the worst things i’ve ever done. I laughed at a handicapped kid at a nursing home once. I don’t know why I was there. I don’t remember how old I was. I have no clue about the details surrounding the incident. And it wasn’t intentional or anything, it was just that uncontrollable laughter. She was making all kinds of crazy sounds and going berserk on her caregiver and I just couldn’t hold it in. I tried so hard but i’m really fucked up in situations like that. The whole inappropriate laughter thing. Once it starts, it’s like an avalanche. It just gets worse and worse. I slapped the little girl across the street and blackmailed her, too. The fight with my ex’s roommate? I only did it because my friends egged it on. It was totally unnecessary. Totally. I called my computer teacher a fatass to her face once. I’ve said things so mean to people it’s made them cry. I went through a klepto stage at age 13. I even stole from a family member that year. So fucked up. I consistently stole my parents car. It got to the point where they were so tired of me stealing it, I just took it. It just became the norm. 15 years old, no license. Just taking their car like it’s nothing. I’ve taken advantage of good guys. I’d try to make myself look cool at their expense, knowing how they felt about me. I want to bang my head on the desk for some of the shit i’ve done. I’m no saint, that’s for sure.

I’ve been broken, over and over. I have dialed a number and left voicemail after voicemail after voicemail, crying and begging and pleading. I’ve walked in the middle of the night to deliver a letter. I’ve cried on the bathroom floor. I’ve been dumb. I took him back over and over and over and over getting played like a fucking joke while my friends would just look at me and shake their heads at my stupidity. Oh God, i’ve been dumb. I’ve posted up in my house weekend after weekend, blown off guy after guy, just to wait around for a phone call that never fucking came. I know what being broken looks like. In 2008, I went through some shit that was so foul, so fucked up, that I sat on my front porch staring at a water hose thinking, “I could perfectly wrap that shit around my neck a couple of times and rig it up to the top of the porch in like 2 minutes or less.”……. 7 months pregnant, I ran away and climbed on the roof. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror before and thought, “It isn’t humanly possibly to look any worse than you do right now.” and I’ve thought, “There is no way I can live like this anymore so that must mean that i’m probably going to die in some freak accident”…… and everyday was like waiting for the end. I’ve had panic attacks like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been in the emergency room for said panic attacks more times than I would like to admit. Full on freak out, this-is-the-big-one-elizabeth, panic mode. And when they were over, i’d cry and pull at my hair and compulsively rub my face and analyze my life while people looked on in pity. I’ve been so fucking high that i’ve hallucinated. I’ve been so drunk that i’ve literally passed out. I have definitely smoked over two packs of cigarettes to myself in one day before. I’ve gone through periods of depression where I wouldn’t come out of my room for weeks other than to get food, shower, and use the restroom. Avoided phone calls. Wouldn’t answer the door for company. Cried at random for no particular reason. I know what brokenness looks like.

I’ve gone through weird phases. I’ve dyed my hair every color of the rainbow. My fashion selection has ranged from dressing like a dude to dressing like a total club whore. I’ve walked down the street in pj’s and big teddy bear slippers because I was constantly trying to “prove a point to society”. I’ve splurged on the most unnecessary shit imaginable. I’ve closed my eyes and hacked my hair off. I’ve written stab-your-eyes-out-with-a-number-two-pencil shitty poetry. I’ve gotten so deep into conspiracies before that I literally thought the government was tapping my phone. No, really. *My* phone. Selectively. I was 100% sure at one point in time that George W. Bush was the antichrist based solely on his piercing blue eyes lol. No clue how I came up with that one. I went to a meeting held by some supposed prophet and and was the biggest fucking nut job i’ve ever met in my life. Yes. I was sitting in a conference room at a random hotel listening to this guy bark on about his prophecies lololololololol. Whaaaaaaattttttt the fuuuuuuuucccckkkkkk. I can’t count how many times i’ve stayed up for 48 hours in an attempt to get my “sleep schedule” back on track lol. I used to get so distracted that I would literally forget to eat for the entire day. Like just straight up forget to eat. I have jumped out of a moving vehicle. I have smoked lipton tea and oregano out of a kazoo because I was that big of a moron. In college….. COLLEGE…… I got to school super early just so I could write “Mr. Eyeball” on my math teacher’s blackboard (which was a play on his actual name) and then proceeded to draw a giant eyeball. By myself. I did that by myself. I had no friends in any of my classes, I only hung out with the GED guys and shot pool. So I seriously did that in a class where I literally had no friends. Like, why. College. Why. I go through phases where I feel everything. Everything. And then….. out of nowhere….. it feels like I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Just blank. I’ve thrown liquor in a guy’s face. Straight vodka. I’ve thrown a tumbler at a guy’s head. I’ve slashed tires. I’ve egged and toilet papered houses. I’ve circled around a gas station parking lot like 30 times while blasting Vanilla Ice, just for the fuck of it. I’ve been involved in shopping cart races in parking lots and have been tipped over at full speed. I’ve jumped on hoods of cars. Moving cars. I’ve rolled down massive mounds of dirt at construction sites. I’ve slept at a park.

I’ve forgiven. I’ve forgiven people that didn’t deserve it. I’ve hugged my enemies when they were down. I’ve stood up for people who have hurt and betrayed me. I’ve literally fought for people. Threw down for people. I’ve been in on so many ex-boyfriend revenge plots it’s crazy. I’ve held people as they have cried into my chest. I’ve wiped the snot from their noses with my bare hands. I’ve hugged homeless people that smelled like garbage cans and i’ve literally given the shirt (in this case, jacket) off my back to a person in need. I’ve never refused to give a person money if they asked for it and I had it. I’ve talked people out of suicide. I’ve visited people in jail when they should have sat there and rotted for the shit they did. I’ve turned tears to laughter by the craziest means possible. I’ve held the hair of strangers as they’ve puked in nasty club restrooms. I’ve helped push cars for random people. I’ve given strangers rides before. I’m starting to feel weird talking about all of this but i’ve loved. I’ve truly loved people in a very real, raw way. I’ve been the ride or die for so many fucking people that i’d never even see again.

I’ve been loud and silent and everything in between. I’ve loved, laughed, cried, screamed, sung, danced, lived….. all of it. I’ve made the dumbest fucking mistakes. I’ve intentionally done shitty things. I’ve had brilliant breakthroughs. I’ve been at the highest highs and the lowest lows. I’ve said it, seen it, heard it, thought it, wrote it……  and i’m still going and I am so thankful. I’m so thankful that I have been given the gift of life and that I am me and I can call my own shots, I can experience this beautiful life in a way that is very unique to me. And I know I am always going to encounter those people who try to judge it, critique it, ridicule it, suggest changes and improvements and all of the above but at the end of the day, this is my life and I am grateful for every single flawed, imperfect fucking detail of it. I’ve dealt with some shit lately but i’ve also had some really awesome news. Things are going south in some areas while other areas are reaching new heights of fucking awesome. That’s life. Up and down, high and low, all the time. That’s how it goes. And I fucking love every minute of it.

Thank you for listening to my melodrama.


God is SO so good and I feel bad that I usually only vocalize that when good things happen because God is good, no matter what. But man. God is good. I got some great news today and i’m just really excited about it!!!!!

There has been so much on my mind lately that it overwhelms me to the point even writing feels like a chore. But i’m going to just write. Nothing in particular, just more random nonsense.

So, in church Sunday. I was watching the choir sing and I had a random observation. All of these people come together to sing and they have one voice. You can’t really hear any one of them over the rest of the choir. They sing in harmony. But if you pay attention, you’ll see different movements, different facial expressions, different personalities. They’re all different people. Each one of them (hopefully) has their own personal relationship with God. That relationship looks completely different than the next person’s relationship. Like, for instance. My relationship with God looks different than yours. Though God does not change from person to person, each person is different. Kind of like how a parent’s relationship with each of their children might look a little different. When Ezra gets older, he’ll probably think back on my cooking or something. When Vayda gets older, she’ll probably remember me dancing silly with her to our favorite songs. And so on. And those memories and the bonds just look different from person to person. When I think of my relationship with God, I think back on when I was a kid, first learning and understanding who He is. I reflect over the many changes i’ve been through in life….. the times when God felt light years away, the times when He felt so close it was as if I could literally feel Him embracing me….. the times when I would pray for things that were no good for me and cry out, “Where are you, God?” then later on, fall to my knees and praise Him for knowing what was for my own good. The times God has moved mountains in my life, from tangible, miraculous blessings to a subtle shift in the way I see the world or a quiet reminder that He is ever present. My relationship with God is personal in every sense of the word. And here is this group of people singing to this same God who has blessed me, been with me through it all, they are praising their God, my God, our God, the one who created all of us…. and it just filled my heart. And I think about where they all might be with God. When they’re singing, they’re singing from different places in life. Some may be singing joyously, some may be singing as if it is the last fiber of the cord connecting them to God. Some may be singing into a void, not even knowing whether God really hears them or not. Some may be singing as if it is only themselves and God in the whole building. And it’s just beautiful that we all worship this same God, yet have such personal, intimate connections to him. It’s amazing.

I need to throw out more random.

I was listening to Americana by Halsey earlier and……. i’m not really fond of the song, I don’t dislike it or anything but it’s like not my favorite lol….. probably because i’m getting old, I guess. But anyway, my mind started to drift to random places and I ended up at nerds lol. Yep. Nerds. I’ve never really been deemed as a nerd. I was so out of the loop in social groups that I couldn’t even be classified as a nerd lmao. My husband calls me a nerd all the time but that’s about it. But, i’ve always had a fondness for nerds. Let me show you what a nerd is not:


Maybe that’s a bit stereotypical of me to assume that he is not a nerd. But, imo, nerds don’t really bother with shit like abs, tans and hair gel. They’re too wrapped up in movie scores and Pokemon collections to be bothered with looking HOT as a MUG. LOL. I’m not saying they can’t be attractive, oh, they absolutely can. I’m not saying they don’t care about their physical appearance, many of them do. But nerds are outcasts. They don’t care about social norms. They’ve accepted that they don’t quite fit in with the popular crowd, so they don’t even try. They don’t try to be cool. If you’re talking to a nerd, you’re most likely, legit, talking to them, not who they want you to think they are. And that is freaking awesome. That’s why I love outcasts and rejects. You don’t have to wonder if they really are who they say they are. You don’t have to peel through so many layers to get to them. I’ve always been more of a fan of the unpopular crowd. The ones who are straight up. They don’t try to impress anyone. We’re all human, we all have flaws, we all have weaknesses….. so maybe it’s wrong for me to judge the popular crew like I do. But like, for instance….. whenever I would start a new job, i’d always befriend the rejects. The ones who didn’t have anyone to sit with on lunch break. The ones who weren’t up on the office/workplace gossip. The ones who didn’t come to work like they’re ready to walk a runway. The ones who would blurt out the most inappropriate shit at the most inappropriate times. The ones who would have me laughing so hard that soda would come out of my nose (true story, bro). I love real people. There was this one girl I worked with lol….. It was me, her and another girl. This girl was the sweetest EVER. She was so, so sweet. Very soft spoken, chipper personality, upbeat as hell. Just a little ray of sunshine. She appeared to be so tragically normal but I guess I knew…… deep down, I must have known she was not normal lol…. she was on a diet like, forever. She’d always bring apple slices, crackers and hummus for her lunch lmao. Me and the other girl would pig out on greasy cafeteria food. But not this girl. And she was a vegan. I’ll get to that. She was OCD neat and tidy, her clothes were very boring, very simple but always immaculate. Hair was cropped short, brunette, straight and every hair fell right into place. She placed napkins in her lap to eat her apple slices and crackers with hummus lol. So, one day, she started telling us about her vegan lifestyle. It started out super normal….. but then, it escalated. She got more and more out of control until she was nearly in tears talking about animal abuse and slaughter houses and me and my friend are sitting there macking on some fried chicken LMFAO and homegirl is just losing her shit. That’s when we knew she was one of us. As we got closer, she started telling us about her relationship with her boyfriend, who she just knew was going to propose to her….. but he never did. And she’d tell us about the crazy fights they would get in and you could tell off rip she was a crazy girlfriend like truly, certifiably crazy lmao. And one day, out of nowhere, she just left. She moved to another state. Left her job. Left her boyfriend. Sought therapy. The whole nine. Just went berserk. I mean, i’m not happy that her life was a mess but God did it make it so much easier to relate to her lol. And it was especially refreshing that she confided in us the way she did. We’d all sit around and laugh about our dysfunctional lives and it was just wonderful. Those are the best kinds of friendships. If they come to your house when it’s a wreck, they’ll just shove stuff off the couch and onto the floor like it’s nothing and keep the conversation going. They don’t bother shutting the bathroom door when they piss. They will answer a call in front of you without feeling like they have to excuse themselves or something. I know there is a warming up period but I like the ones that really don’t need warming up to. You just click with them and instantly feel comfortable. I have totally connected with girls in the restroom at a nightclub before and felt like they were my bff’s for all of the ten minutes I stood in line talking to them. They aren’t fucking haters, they’ll compliment your outfit, you’ll exchange beauty tips or whatever lol like, it’s all good. I love down-to-earth, chill people.

Which leads me to another issue.

Don’t tell people how to live their life. Don’t critique the way they operate. Don’t do that. Let them be. There is a difference between wanting what’s best for them, offering them sound advice in hopes that they become better people, and simply forcing your ideas of who they should be on them so that they are easier for you to deal with. I cannot STAND THAT SHIT. I hate it with everything I am. I cannot stand when someone continuously brings up shit supposedly wrong with me like over and over and over and over again it’s like SHUT UP. Just shut up. For real. Shut up, leave me alone, live your life. I’m sorry, did you expect me not to have……..flaws? LOL. I don’t get that about people. They’ll bring up an issue they have with someone….. like…. well, she gossips too much. Or she’s a control freak. Or she’s superficial. Or she’s got anger issues. Or whatever other problem they have with this person. And it’s like….. okay, say they didn’t have that struggle. Let’s pretend that didn’t exist in their lives…… it would be SOMETHING ELSE. Did you expect people to be flawless? Really? I don’t know if I am conveying this properly. Like, for me, i’m ADD personified. I bounce around from one thing to another so i’m kind of a train wreck, rarely finish things I start, great long term memory but set my keys down and forget where I put them like literally 10 seconds later, i’m disorganized, I’m random, that sort of thing. That’s my number one struggle in life. If you were to ask anyone close to me what’s the one, major thing “wrong” with me, that would be it. That would be their number one complaint. But if it weren’t that, it would just be yet another incredibly HUMAN flaw that they’d be annoyed with. So just knock it off. Leave people alone. Worry about yourself. Stop trying to change people. Stop treating people like your own personal lab rats, trying to prod them and nudge them and shape them into who you think they should be. Let people have their flaws. Accept them for who they are. If you find that you cannot handle their flaws, just don’t fuck with them. Straight up. Leave them alone. Find someone else to befriend. Don’t tell people what to do, don’t put them on trial 24 fucking 7. They don’t have to answer to you. With the exception of your kids or like your employees or whatever, no one has to answer to you. They don’t have to constantly explain themselves to you. Like, i’m not just going to up and stop being a disaster just because you have a problem with it so your constant hammering just doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to piss me off. Do you. Be you. Go be you somewhere and let me be me.

Huge moon/sun dream.

I passed out for about an hour earlier. I’m so tired, I feel like I can barely function. I don’t know how i’m functioning. Our vacation cannot come quick enough.

I don’t remember the details of where we were or what we were doing. It’s all fuzzy. I know we were on what appeared to be a deck and I remember a highway, but that’s it. It was Kevin and I. He was behind me, doing God knows what….. I glanced up to the sky and saw the moon. It was huge and appeared to be getting bigger and bigger. I kept telling Kevin to look at it but he kept blowing me off. He was busy doing something. You know how when you’re really involved in what you’re doing and someone wants you to check something out and you’re like, “Okay. Okay. Hang on. One more minute.” it was like that. But I am like freaking out about the moon and i’m getting more and more pissed that he was missing it….. I just remember repeatedly saying, “Kevin, please! Just real quick! Just look at it! Omg, you’re missing it!!!!” and the moon got so big that it took up about half of the sky. It began to disappear on the horizon. The sky began to glow a deep orange color and the clouds looked like streaks of purple and gray. I could see the tip of the sun peeking from behind the horizon and I said, “Kevin, omg, seriously! Look, something is happening in the sky! Look at the sun! You’re missing it!” and the sun began to rise, took up half of the sky and got brighter and brighter until it felt like orange was burnt into my retina. Kevin never saw it. Everything went golden and I woke up. The end.

Public Freak out

I just need to get the random out before I go to sleep. Maybe that will keep the weird ass dreams at bay.

I went shopping with my sister today. Have I ever told you how much I hate shopping? Yes? Well guess what!

I still hate shopping. Passionately.

I think it’s great that women look forward to it. I wish I could be one of those women but….. i’m not. I don’t know if that has anything to do with how much…… no…..never mind, Money has nothing to do with it. When I used to bartend, i’d easily blow like $700 on clothes. And i’d be pissed off the entire time.

I am a judgmental bitch. I am. I say i’m not but I think that’s just because I don’t judge the kind of people most people judge. I judge. Especially when i’m shopping. Is it right? Nope. Not at all. I judged my sister today. We stopped at Winn-Dixie to pick up dinner and this bitch picked up some banana chocolate gelato (i’m sorry, I bet it’s delicious but I can’t eat it because the name is weird. Sounds like it came from an alien planet. For real. It sounds annoying.), some chocolate turnovers (another annoying name…..turnovers. Think about it. I’m eating a chocolate “turnover”. Stupid.) and some yellow rice. When I am in the checkout line, I totally scope out what people have in their shopping carts and I judge them based on what they have in their shopping carts. I’m just keeping it real. It’s like when you go to someone’s house and get a glimpse into their cabinets and fridge and you can’t quite identify what they’re working with. I don’t like annoying food. Shannon picked up some annoying food today. And she went home, ate her annoying food while listening to John Mayer, probably lit a candle or something, and put on her weird eye mask for puffy eyes…… and it makes her look like a ninja turtle. Shannon’s getting weird. She’s moving over to the darkside. She has natural cleaning products, wtf dude. I mean they smell great and everything but come on. Stop it. Anyway I judge the people at the town center. Especially the people coming in and out of Nordstrom. I have a hard time relating to high class people. Like when you go into a high class store ( lol I said high class store I meant high end lmao I even sound like trash hahahaha) and they literally have their noses up in the air. It’s not a joke, they’re really up there. No smile or anything. Blank faces. And they always have the dumbest sense of humor. Let me interject. I’ve gotten into a “public freak out” phase. I like watching videos of people freaking out in public. It’s sick, I know. Well, i’d like to have a little public freak out someday. And there is no better place to do it than somewhere like Nordstrom. I feel kind of bad for even thinking this way and you’ll probably never look at me the same but I want to eat a bunch of bananas one day, go to Nordstrom and light that shit up. I am laughing so hard right now I can barely breathe. Just keep it super caj and just rip ass up and down every single fucking aisle. Don’t make it obvious but don’t try to hide it, either. Like “Excuse me, where are your shoes?” and just let them figure it out. Maybe i’d go as far as continue the conversation so they’d have to stand there and smell it. I wonder if they’d say something? Shit, Nordstrom, they’d probably call security and i’d end up getting an assault charge or something. Oh, better yet. I could ask them to take me somewhere that has close quarters or something, corner them, then do it, then keep talking. I have to move on, unfortunately. I’m seriously choking from laughing right now lol. We ate at Chipotle and i’m saying, I question every single person that goes in and out of the restroom there. That’s why you have to use the restroom before you get your food or someone like me is gonna be sitting there, silently judging you lol. I judge people. I can’t help it. We all do. When we were in H&M, these two girls walked by me, looked like they were in their early 20’s and one of them, I swear, she mugged me so hard I had to stop to think if I knew her or not. She was just mugging. For like no fucking reason. That’s how a lot of those people are out there. I’m judging again. I need to stop. And me and Shannon’s dumb asses. Well, see….. Shannon can play it cool….. but NEVER when I am around. She can’t play the chill card if i’m involved lol. I don’t have a problem with the fact that i’m awkward, it doesn’t bother me one single bit. It really doesn’t. I think it keeps shit interesting. When we were eating at chipotle, this guy walked by me and I could see that he was staring at my lips so I bit it to make sure there wasn’t something on them lmao and sure enough, I have a piece of cheese on my lip hahahaha. And the way it silently went down without me even saying a word about it was hilarious because when I realized there was cheese on my lip, I kind of sighed and rolled my eyes like I was disappointed lol. I didn’t know shannon peeped out the whole thing. Anyway, moving on. Whenever we leave a store, we have big, stupid smiles on our faces. We’re just super excited to be out of the store with a lot of new shit in our possession and we can’t contain it, we can’t keep it lowkey, we grin like dumbos until one of us realizes what we’re doing…… and the more we try to stop smiling, the worse it gets until we’re like cackling like old women and by this point, we have caused a scene and everyone is staring lol. I was in the dressing room and I tried on this weird dress and Shannon was trying to convince me not to get it….. I said, “Omg NO! It’s so CUTE! I can wear my green vest with it!” and it was like as soon as I started talking, the whole room went silent, you couldn’t even really hear the music……but it was PACKED….. and it sounded like I was screaming. We lost our shit right then and there lmao. You know, I totally could have stopped writing after the lighting up nordstrom’s scenario….. it all went downhill after that. My eyes are burning. I need sleep. Peace.

(we had spaghetti tonight and I swear every time we have spaghetti, I think about Dave Chappelle’s 8 mile parody.)

The best is yet to come

It’s nice to reflect on your past, carefree days of being a kid, the rebellious teenage years, the wild years of early adulthood….. but i’d like to believe that the best is yet to come. If you’re always expecting that the better days are over, they will be. I am known to drown myself in nostalgia…… but I still keep it moving. You seriously just need to forget your age. It’s a number. Don’t forget your responsibilities, don’t forget the important lessons you’ve learned…… but forget your age. Try out a new trend that you think looks stupid. Listen to new music, especially if it’s something you wouldn’t normally listen to. Stop going to all of the same places. Make new memories somewhere else. Try something that gets you out of your comfort zone. Basically, create more newness. More novel experiences. Something that makes your heart beat faster, something that makes you a little uneasy, something a little unpredictable. Not all the time……i’m not saying to take it overboard. But once in a while, do something that’s going to add something new to your life. Rearrange your furniture. Put new pictures on the wall. Get rid of clothes from 5 years ago so you’re not tempted to keep wearing them, wear something different. Change your hair color. If you usually keep your nails short, grow them longer. Get a tattoo. Build something. Draw something and frame it. Learn a new skill. Force yourself to read a book geared towards teenagers. This is what keeps you alive. Don’t let all of the years blend together, define them with new things. Teach yourself some new tricks. Tell new stories. Don’t ever let someone feel like they know all there is to know about you, keep building, keep growing, keep changing. Forever. That’s how I roll. Idk, just woke up with this on my mind…….

whuddup cuzzo


I don’t even feel like digging up the many posts where I said something along the lines of “what you do isn’t who you are.” I just woke up with it on my mind and I thought, “What was I thinking?”. I love it when this happens. I’m not kidding when I say I love being proved wrong. Sure, it’s a little tough on the ego when other people do it and the initial reaction is “piss off” but in the long run, it is very much appreciated. I do, however, love it when I come to my own realization that I am completely off base and full of shit in some aspect. Because that means I am closer to being right. I’m that much closer. It gives me satisfaction much like picking sand spurs off of my shoe laces and bottom of my jeans. You just drop those faults one by one and it makes my fucking mouth water lol. Of course the irony here is that I am writing about this right now. But I love having this reference. I love being able to see how I change my mind on things. I am entitled to change my mind, we all are. I just choose to display that process for others to see so it kind of looks like i’m a little unstable, I guess.

I am a good mother. That is legit. I love my kids, don’t we all? But I don’t just love them from a distance, I don’t love them from the sofa while asking them to hand me the remote. I love them from their level. I love them by investing in who they are as people and by helping them cultivate their own personalities and skills. I love them when I feed and clothe them, I love them when I sit and help them with homework, I love them when I nurse them back to health when they’re sick, I love them when I correct them, I love them when I discipline them, I love them when I sing and dance with them, I love them when I teach them about the world around them, I love them when I listen to their problems, their ideas, when I answer their questions, when I teach them to think for themselves, when I load them up and take them to church, when I tell them about Jesus and show them how to pray…… this is how I love my kids. I don’t just love my kids with words. I love my kids with actions. Words are nice but they don’t get shit done. If I love them with a feeling instead of loving them with action, it is a selfish love. It is a love which only serves the purpose of making me feel good. It’s a love that lifts my spirits up, not theirs. “I love you, but i’m not going to do anything to show you that I love you”. That’s self-serving and isn’t really love at all.

“For God so loved the world that……”

That, what? He thought about it? Reflected on it? Basked in the raw energy of love and hoarded it for himself?


God demonstrated his love for the world by sending his son to die on the cross for our sins. Love compels one to action. It isn’t idle. It doesn’t sit around. It moves and leaves visible evidence wherever it goes, whatever it touches is affected.

Action. Not words.

But this isn’t just about love. This is about life. You really are what you do. I was wrong. This is me righting my wrong. How you feel and what you think holds nowhere near as much weight as what you do.

Your wife cheats on you. You go through a mental crisis, drive yourself to a bar, drink yourself nearly into a coma, set your inebriated ass into the driver seat of your car, take off down the road, plow through a stop sign, hit 6 pedestrians, killing 3, critically injuring the other 3, then crash your car into the storefront of someone’s business. Do you think anyone is going to give a shit what you were going through? Is the judge going to have any mercy on you?

You are defined by what you do. Barack Obama is going to forever be known as the 56th president of the United States of America. He is going to be known for all of the decisions he made. That is what will go down in the books. That’s all people give a shit. Like it or not, people see you for what you can do for them. As soon as we take our first gasp of air, we instinctively search for our mother. Why? Because she loves us? No. Because she is going to feed us. That’s all we really fucking care about. If you get stabbed and are bleeding out on the sidewalk, you’re going to be desperate for help. At that point, it’s life or death. If someone comes to your rescue, I assure you, you will not give two shits if that person votes democratic or republican. You won’t give a shit what their position on abortion is. You won’t care if they are a narcissistic asshole who makes their employees’ lives a living hell. Stop the bleeding. That’s it. Save my life. That’s all. Everything else is a non fucking issue.

It’s what you do that holds the weight.

My heart hurts when I think of starving children in Africa……. but i’m sure it doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as their stomachs hurt. My sympathy doesn’t do shit for those kids. They could give two fucks about my sympathy. They don’t give a shit how many tears I have shed on a full fucking stomach while watching documentaries about how tragic their lives are. That shit isn’t feeding them.

This world is do or die. People have needs to be met and your worth to those people depends on how well you meet their needs. People don’t want you to feel bad for them, they want you to do something for them. It’s cut throat as fuck out there. That’s why job applications ask for your work history. A ballerina is of no use to a construction company. None whatsoever. That construction company doesn’t give a rat’s ass how many books you’ve read or what type of music you listen to.

All of this is easy for someone like myself to miss. I am constantly teetering back and forth between reality and imagined scenarios. It’s a constant dance between the two……. and, being an introvert, being somewhat of the loner type, being imaginative……. I can sometimes get lost in a world that doesn’t even exist. A world that not only does nothing for other people, but also does nothing for myself. It gives me this delusional idea that my thoughts are more important than they actually are. How I feel about things is more important than it really is.

The world needs thinkers…… but thinkers are of no use unless their thoughts prompt some sort of action to be taken. I am always trying to find the balance in things and this is probably the most critical area for me to find balance in. My words are nothing without action. Repeat: my words are nothing without action. When I get old and reflect back on my life, I am sure the first things that will come to mind will be all of the things that i’ve done. When I am remembered, I want people to remember me by what I did for them. How I directly affected their lives. They will remember my quirks, they’ll remember my sense of humor, they’ll remember those things….. but those things are going to die with me. My actions, the things I did for people, those are the things that will never die. Those are the things that impact the world. Those are the things that change the course of history. More action, less words.