oops...forgot to throw away the coffee.

I don't know if it is my prairie upbringing, or perhaps my inherent sentimentality, but when fishermen come into my store, order coffee, and then talk amongst themselves about the hardships and joys of life in commercial fishing, I start feeling a little nostalgic.

In other news, some matters of the heart have been settled. The singing boy, who made my knees weak, his heart is held by another. So that's that. Although, he is wonderful...and a good friend.

There's nothing new with bass boy. I haven't seen him for a week or maybe 2...if ever there is something new, I'll post it here for you.

That said...I'm going to go now. And kick myself for not emptying the coffee urns.
AIIYA!

salute.

to the makers of dimetapp-DM and tylenol sinus...my humblest thanks and appreciation.
You have made my Christmas more than bearable.

sayings.

"Faith is the great energy. As long as you have faith, you're willing to try to take another chance. God wants you to amble toward the right spot on the horizon. The idea is that you're willing to get up and keep moving toward that light."
--Billy Corgan

weak in the...blabhablablabahbb.

I went shopping yesterday. Last minute Christmas stuff, you know the drill. While at Sears, I stopped at the perfume counter to try something I saw in a magazine, "Armani Mania". I thought this could be the perfume that would be known as my scent!
Half an hour after putting some on, I was sneezing with the force of a tornado, and all evening I was getting sicker and sicker.
Whoooeeeeeeeeeeeee!
This morning I was awakened by a burning sensation in my throat each time I swallowed.
Ugh.
Sick.
I got up for work, feeling weak and pathetic. I still feel that way. Somehow I made it through my shift, and then a trip to north van.

I'm okay as long as I don't try and stand up or move.

Merry Christmas.

PS...my house smells like gingerbread. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

*breathing*

It's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over, it's over.
The semester is over.
Oh my goodness.
I'm going to the gym, and then I'm going to drink tea and have a nap.
I'll worry about work and boys later.
For now I must celebrate because....
it's over, it's over it'soverit'soverit'soverit'sover..


IT'S OVER!!!

thea said "mmmm"

He's too perfect. Perfectly boy. Like shoes and jazz. Sings with me and my knees go weak. And I almost cry. And sometimes, he just knows what I meant to say.

There's a different boy...less perfect, but moreso too. There's more between us. But maybe the committment I was keeping myself to was unecessary?



And maybe I just watch too much romance on tv. YEs...I think that is it.

story.

"Oh friends, I am so tired of weak Christianity. Let us be out and out for Christ; let us give no uncertain sound. If the world wants to call us fools, let them to it. It is only a little while; the crowning day is coming. Thank God for the privilege we have of confessing Christ."

the looooooooooooooooong week...

IS OVER!!!

WOw. The last 7 days have been pure insanity. My skin is on the fritz. My throat is on the fritz. My eyes are on the fritz. I almost had a complete sight-singing meltdown. I don't want to drive to north van ever again (but I will...on sunday).

I'm getting an idea of how I DON'T want my life to be once I have a job and a house and all that stuff.

Shooooooot. Sleepy time. Night-o.

Ludwig. What a name!

"You will ask me whence I take my ideas? That I cannot say with any degree of certainty: they come to me univited, directly or indirectly. I could almost grasp them in my hands, out in Nature's open, in the woods, during my promenades, in the silence of the night, at the earliest dawn. They are roused by moods which in the poet's case are transmuted into words, and in mine into tones, that sound, roar and storm until at last they take shape for me as notes."

-Ludwig van Beethoven


"...there was in those small piercing eyes an expression which no painter could render. It was a feeling of sublimity and melancholy combined."

- Sir Julius Benedict

Die Entfuhrung

Best sentence in my music history textbook (today) : "But with so much of their [composers who aren't Haydn or Mozart] music still inaccessible for listening and study, their inclusion would have multiplied the kind of dry, unresonant name-dropping and selective listing that this paragraph regretfully exemplifies."

Mister's Grout and Palisca, you are forgiven.

they're here! on my face!

No, no, not the vermin of pubescent oil glands....MY GLASSES!!!!

They look good. I was getting a little worried...I couldn't remember what they looked like.
But now I do.

They look good.

Bass-boy said they look good.

Aaaand...my dad said I look like a modern co-ed...

Stay tuned!!