Did That Just Happen?

All it takes is a look and I know

2011-12-06T10:07:00.003-05:00

Sometimes it's when we're driving in the car.

Or when we're in the kitchen and trying to get dinner ready.

Other times it's when we're watching TV or when we're simply alone at the end of the day.

Whatever it is that we're doing, it's that moment that she stops. She looks at me. I look up at her and she's smiling. I smile back. Sometimes the look in her eyes makes me shy even after all of these months. Her smile grows when I smile. The look in her eyes is so intense sometimes that I feel like she's looking straight into my soul. Feelings like that used to unnerve me. With her, they just make me warm inside. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life just for her. For these exact moments. I can have the worst day ever, and that one look turns it completely around. Whatever is wrong with the world, she makes it right in my world.

Sometimes she reaches and touches my face, other times we just sit there staring into each other, lost in the moment. I know what she's going to say and my heart races every time as if it were the first time she has said it.

"I love you."

The light at the end of the closet

2011-12-05T15:47:00.002-05:00

My closet is collapsing. Quickly.

Apparently my closet was never really stealthy to begin with. When I come out to people, most say, "I know." A lot make it about themselves.

"I just don't understand why you didn't feel you could trust me?" "Did I do something to make you feel like you couldn't tell me?"

Others don't understand why I just don't come out already. I mean, everyone already knows anyway, right?

Obviously, I can't speak for every gay person who has been in the closet, so I'll just speak for myself. I thought the closet was my lifeline. I thought I needed it. There was a time, not so long ago, that I thought that I needed to hide this part of me for the rest of my life. I felt like I could be gay as long as no one close to me knew. I thought that I could never date someone in my same city because *gasp* people would find out. I was afraid that if some people in my life found out, that I would be physically harmed because I grew up believing that it is not okay to be gay. So, I tucked myself firmly in the closet and decided that I could be happy there. The world is scary. My closet was safe. I mean, security blankets are a good thing, right? The closet was my security blanket.

Except that it wasn't.

Oh, at first it was. I felt happier than I had been in a long time because I had admitted to myself that I liked women and that was okay. But the more and more that I discovered my true self and strived to become the truest version of myself that I could be, the smaller my closet became. I didn't like hiding who I really was. So, I made a decision...

I would tell a few people. That is what I would do.

With a few people knowing, my closet didn't seem so small anymore. I could breathe again. There were times now in which I could be myself and the other times, I could just hide out in my closet and I could be happy with that. For a while, it was all I needed. I was once again happier than I had ever been. Until that wasn't enough anymore. Once again, my closet was suffocating me.

It had become my prison.

I knew at that time that I couldn't stay in the closet. I had to come out to everyone, including my family. And exactly how does an analytical coward do something like that?

She makes a game plan. Slowly but surely, I began to come out.

I'm still coming out.

Right now, my parents do not "know." I say "know" because I know my mom knows. And I think that she knows I know she knows. I just haven't said those three big words. Despite all of the reassuring words that she's given me and the fact that she loves my girlfriend and the fact that I know she loves me and just wants me to be happy, I just haven't been able to come out with it. I'm a wuss.

Here's the thing about coming out (for me anyway)... You have to feel safe. You have to know that all is going to be okay before you put yourself in a possible life changing situation. I didn't always feel safe. In fact, for a long time I was so afraid that I thought I could never come out. I thought I had to deny myself love. All it took for one person that I thought would reject me to tell me that "it's part of who you are" and "of course, I still love you" for me to know that everything was going to be okay. When I look back on this past year or so when I began to make my game plan, I feel.... proud. Yes. I'm proud. I've come a long way to that scared woman who didn't think she would ever be able to be her true self all of the time. I know that I need to completely come out and I know that the longer I wait, the harder it may be in certain situations, I also know there is no "perfect moment" in this situation. But, I will come all the way out of my closet. I can see the light, and for right now? That feels good.

We were just watching TV is all

2011-11-29T09:46:00.003-05:00

While watching TV on my couch, I look down at the six year old who has firmly planted his head in my side while playing the DSi. How he was able to maneuver his body so that he was able to lie down between me and his brother is beyond me, but he did it. He's such a sweet boy. When you look into his eyes, you see a boy who loves life to the fullest. In one minute, he's trying to figure out how to play checkers, and in the very next minute he's trying to fly because he's wearing a cape, and all superheroes with capes can fly, right? He amazes me with the wisdom that oozes from his six year old brain and his laugh is so very infectious. He cannot sit still right now, and I smile because I am reminded of something my great-grandmother would have said. "He's wallerin' me to death."

I look over at his brother. His eyes are glued to the TV. He's sitting on the edge of his seat as we watch Ghost Hunters together. His eleven year old eyes can be so serious at times. He reminds me a lot of myself at that age. He's sensitive and when you first meet him, you'd think he's a quiet child. When you get to know him, is when you see his full personality. He's an actor, a cartoonist, a movie maker...an artist in the true sense of the word. His talent puts mine to shame, and I'm so very proud of what he's accomplished already. I love teaching him what I know and seeing him take what I've shown him and develop his skills. I have no doubt that one day, he will be teaching me things. His smile warms my heart.

They are both so different, yet I love them both so much.

I smile again. In these past eight months, this has to be one of my favorite moments. I've lived in my house for seven years, but now, I am truly home.

I look over at her, our eyes meet, and we communicate without words. She whispers, "I love you so much." She tells me how warm her heart feels right now in this moment, and I know that she is feeling the exact same thing that I am.

As I turn my attention back to the TV, my heart says, "Welcome home."

They're all just words. Or are they?

2011-10-11T23:44:00.003-04:00

I stare at my computer trying to decide what to write about. I love how the keyboard feels beneath my fingers. I smile to myself because I never fancied myself a writer. Not once did I ever look at myself in the mirror and say, "April, you are going to be a writer one day."

Yet, here I sit trying to decide which part of my heart to pour into my tiny little corner of the internet. Here I sit planning on one day writing a book with hopes that people will fall in love with my words as I have fallen in love with other people's words.

Maybe I'll be funny today, I think. I like being funny. And I'm pretty damn good at it. Or. Maybe I will try to touch someone with my words. If one young gay person reads my words and knows that It Gets Better, and that everything will be okay, then I consider my whole writing career a success. Or. Maybe I'll make people cry. Not that I particularly like making people cry, but I do like making people feel things. Or. Maybe I'll just randomly write.

I smile again.

I realize that it doesn't really matter what I write about. It doesn't matter if I'm funny or sad or inspiring because I write here for me. Mostly. And I write here because it makes me feel better. Those moments when I'm writing give me such a satisfaction that no "job" has ever given me before. My writing, at least for now, is for me.

I get up. I look at myself in the mirror and I say, "April, you've become a writer."

No, it doesn't really matter what I write about, I think again. As long as I Just Write.

This is when my life began. Again.

2011-09-27T00:26:00.005-04:00

I looked up from the book I had just finished reading. I had tears in my eyes. From my front porch, I could hear a bird singing nearby. I felt a breeze on my face. I looked around my yard and neighborhood and sighed. Something big was about to happen...

I absorbed what I just read.

My life made sense now. My whole life made sense all in this moment.

I smiled. And I cried.

I cried because deep down I knew that in reading Like Me, my life was going to change. My life had to change. I had been stuck in limbo for far too long. I was living a lie and I was ashamed of myself.

I cried because I was so very scared. I knew that in telling people, I may lose people that I cared about.

I cried because I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to go about telling people.

I cried because I knew that I had finally found my path to happiness.

I smiled again.

My whole life I searched for someone who was like me. I couldn't understand why I had the feelings that I did and I grew up being told that being gay wasn't "right." As I read Chely Wright's words, I found myself saying "Me too!" and I was proud of Chely for having the courage to come out to the world. All of a sudden, I wanted to come out to the world too!

Living a lie was tiring. I wanted to live life instead. I needed to tell my world.

I closed the book, stood up, and began looking at the world with whole new eyes.

It was all going to be okay. Life would be good.

Life is good.

Thank you, Chely.

Every now and then time just stops

2011-09-20T12:29:00.001-04:00

I didn’t really want to go out that night. I waited until the very last second to take a shower, then I waited until the very last second to decide what to wear, then I waited until the very last second to get dressed, put my make up on. I waited until the very last second to decide to actually go.

A friend wanted me to go out with her to our ONE GAY CLUB. The problem was that I just didn’t FEEL like going. I mean, I had only been to that club once or twice and that was years ago. When I was “straight.” What would happen if someone I wasn’t attracted to asked me to dance? What would happen if I got there and felt uncomfortable? What if I got there and hated it, but felt obligated to stay because I didn’t want to leave my friend? What if I went there and no one wanted to dance with me?

I told myself that I didn’t feel like going, but now that I think about it, I was afraid. I was afraid of what might happen. Of might not happen. I was thinking exactly how I did when I tried so hard to be straight knowing that something just didn’t feel right.

I have a lot of feelings.

In a split second I decided to go. I would go and just have a good time.

My friend and I sat at the bar. I think I had been telling her about how I wasn’t sure if I would ever meet anyone who was my type in our town. I say, “I think” because right after that, my whole night, my whole world changed.

She walked in.

I felt so many feelings all at once. My head rushed, my heart slammed. “There is my type,” I told my friend and pointed to the beautiful woman who was standing near us at the bar.

Our eyes caught and I tried to smile, but I’m not sure if I did because I suddenly felt shy. I watched her as she walked off. I watched her with her friends. I watched her walk outside. I watched her as she stood in front of me, looked back at me and smiled. I watched her as she danced with the girl that I thought was her girlfriend.

My heart sank a little.

After a while on the dance floor, my friend said she needed to go out for some air and when I turned, there was the girl. I smiled. She smiled. Her hand touched mine, our bodies were pulled closer together by magic, or maybe it was her hand, who knows. All I know is that in that moment, when two people meet, there is a magic in the air. Time slows and you are the only two people in the world who exist.

Reality struck again when the one that I thought was her girlfriend approached. I backed off, put my hands up as if to say, “I’m sorry.” She smiled. “She’s not my girlfriend.” She pulled me back to her and we disappeared back into the world that we had created.

I’m not sure how long we danced. It could have been five minutes. It could have been five hours. I was so overwhelmed with feelings but the one that I felt most was that this? It felt right.

Just a few random (or not so random thoughts)

2011-06-06T19:12:00.003-04:00

One week and two days until my 33rd birthday. I haven't written here much. I am blocked. I let stress take over, and words have left me. Or I should say that perfect words have escaped me. I have questioned my ability as a writer.

"Maybe you can't make it as a writer after all, April."

I write those words and half smile to myself. They seem silly to me. I am a writer. It's the first thing I tell people when they ask what I do for a living. Of course, I use the disclaimer that my writing doesn't pay the bills. Yet. Which, if my writing never pays the bills, I'm okay with that because I love to write.

So, why am I blocked? This blog doesn't have to be perfect. It's about me and I am far from perfect. I actually love that about myself.

I love that I am constantly figuring out who I am and what I like and dislike. More than one person in my life has told me to never change, and I feel like that is the worst thing to say to a person. I spent the majority of my twenties being a person that I wasn't. Now, most days I feel like a small child who is discovering new things in this world every single day. I feel myself becoming more and more comfortable in my skin.

It's quite an amazing feeling, but I'm thinking maybe that is why my writing fails me. I was sitting in a session at a recent conference and I thought, my blog is about to go somewhere. I don't mean make it big because I don't really care about that. I care more about touching lives. What I think those thoughts meant is I feel myself changing. I feel my writing changing. (Or maybe some of the focus of my writing changing? Hmm. Maybe I just think too much.) Maybe I just don't know what to do with all of these feelings I have yet. Maybe, what I mean is that maybe, just maybe, this blog is about to become more "me". Hmm.

Should be fun to see what happens.

PS. I should note that I made a deal with two people in particular that I would show off my rapping skills. I'm sure that alcohol will need to be involved to have this happen but expect this deal to be paid in full right here on this blog soon.

Who needs The Biggest Loser anyway...

2011-05-23T21:55:00.006-04:00

I pulled into the garage and my first thought was, this isn't right. Instead of trusting myself and turning around and leaving the garage, I parked my car. I also figured when I couldn't find the floor that led to the hotel, that something was wrong, but again, instead of going back to my car, I walked out to the street and into the Hilton

This just isn't right, I thought. I remember the hotel we were in last year, and this isn't it.

I checked my phone (because you know, it's always better to do that after you have that gut feeling that you're wrong and walk into the wrong hotel), see that the conference was at the Marriott, and think, oh good! I saw one of those just about a block down!

I walked into the Marriott, and once again, I knew this isn't right. I looked at the address again, marched over to the check-in desk (because, you know, it's always better to do that after you've been to the second wrong hotel), stuck my phone in the poor employee's face and said, "Can you please tell me where this is?"

I went to the wrong garage and two wrong hotels for the beginning of my FitBloggin. I am that cool. I admit, Now, let me tell you about the rest my FitBloggin...

I was in it for the shoes. OK, not really. Only sort of really. I was all kinds of stupid excited about those shoes.

Even though I have a touch of social anxiety, I love FitBloggin. On The Biggest Loser, each season we watch a group of people who have struggle a good portion of their lives with being healthy come together to change their lives. (I know some of you don't like The Biggest Loser, but stick with me here.) They also create bonds with the people they go to the ranch with. They laugh, they cry, they work hard, and together they change their lives.

The problem with The Biggest Loser is that it isn't really real. Sure, the contestants create bonds, but for you and me? It isn't our reality. How many of you have watched that show and thought, I want that. All of it.

Guess what? We have it. FitBloggin is like our Biggest Loser ranch only better. The internet is our reality show. Only it's better. I never expected to become close friends with the people I met online. I never expected to create bonds in which we laugh, we cry, we work hard and we change lives. But I did. The friendships I have made online through blogging about my journey and fitness are some of the most amazing friendships I've ever had.

When Roni created FitBloggin, she created so much more than a conference. She created a safe place where we could all come together and celebrate the healthy changes we are making in our lives and either strengthen bonds and hopefully form new ones.

I spent the weekend with my Shrinking Jeans family. I met new people. I witnessed friendships being strengthened and friendships being born. I heard laughter and squeals. I saw and gave many hugs. I did this all while learning new things (like Zumba is fun--holy crap, did I say that out loud?) about health and fitness. I had the time of my life.

Roni, thank you for creating this place for us to come together to celebrate these wonderful life journeys that we are all on. It is an amazing reminder that we CAN DO THIS. We WILL DO IT. And we are all in this together.

That? Was my FitBloggin.

PS. To every single one of my Sisters: I love you and miss you all!

The day I became a Hokie...

2011-04-15T08:00:00.002-04:00

We walked across campus that Spring Game. For the handful of football games that I had been to, we parked in a private lot close to the stadium, but this was different. This was the Spring Game, and we decided that we were going to make the trek across campus.

This was something I had never done before at Virginia Tech, so all sense of direction was lost to me. My friends knew which way to go. Happily, I let them lead the way and enjoyed taking in everything my eyes, ears, and skin would allow. Campus was beautiful. The architecture was amazing. Students were happy. If I were once again a teenager searching for a place to go to college, I would have said, "This is it! This is where I am meant to be! I have found my place!" I found myself wondering why I never even had Virginia Tech on my lists of schools to go to.

I was so thoroughly enjoying taking in campus with each step, that I had no idea what was coming. I think we made a turn. Or something. Immediately I knew where we were...

The air turned thick. The building on my left was surrounded with a heavy feeling of sadness. A weight pressed on my shoulders. I knew that this was the building that had experienced such tragedy just one year earlier. We were at Norris Hall. The mood here was somber. The air was still. The sound was silent. I allowed myself to feel the loss that had taken place there. I mourned for the people who had lost their lives. My heart hurt, and I silently cried.

We turned our direction again and walked just a bit away to the memorial for the 32 people who had lost their lives that tragic day. I prayed as I passed each name. I thought of every single person as I studied their names. I thought of their families and friends. When I reached the last I gave one last look at Norris Hall, and the weight on my shoulders lifted.

We continued on and headed to the stadium, and once again, campus was happy. However, my thoughts lingered with what I had just experienced for a few minutes. I did not attend Virginia Tech. In fact, not too many months before that exact moment, I didn't even like Virginia Tech. I would have never thought in five million years that I would ever even want to be a Hokie. Yet, I could not deny what I had just experienced. I knew that right there, in that moment, I became a Hokie. I smiled to myself and rejoined the happiness of the day.

Tomorrow is April 16th. Four years ago, that tragic day forever changed many lives. Tomorrow, I will proudly wear my Hokie colors. I will do something happy in remembrance. I would love it if you would join me. Will you wear maroon or orange (or both!)? For just one day, would you please be a Hokie with me?

Sometimes glass walls aren't a bad thing

2011-03-08T17:38:00.000-05:00

One wall of the cafeteria at work is glass. It begins at the floor and then shoots to an angle so that it becomes part of the ceiling. For decoration, there are a few plants and two banana trees.

Outside, the back patio is bordered by wisteria that becomes a wildlife habitat for birds and squirrels. For three years now, a female cardinal returns to the same area of the wisteria. I know it is the same cardinal because every single year, I have watched her during lunch as she tries to fly inside of the cafeteria. She flies the same pattern over and over again only to realize that there is glass in front of her and that she can't get in.

I feel so bad for this poor little bird. She has no idea that the glass is there for her own good, I thought today. Yet over and over she tries. Determined to get inside.

As I sat there and watched her today, I began to think of things in my life. I try not to ask why things have happened the way they have. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I fail and end up asking why, but I try not to. I do think in "what if's" a lot. I can drive people crazy with hypothetical situations. "What IF, I had mad this decision instead of that decision. How would my life be different?" I have no regrets, but I do wonder.

And then I thought...

You know, I'm not so different than the cardinal. I have wandered down many paths in my life. Often, the paths look similar and on each path I have reached a glass telling me that I need to turn back. The glass may have brought a time of confusion, but ultimately, it didn't keep me from trying to find the path without the glass.

Now, I know the glass was there for a reason. While I didn't know it at the time, it was for my own good that I couldn't continue down those particular paths. As frustrated as I was with the glass then, I am so very thankful for it now.

My hope is that one day, the little female cardinal will realize that she cannot get into the place she so desperately wants. That she'll somehow figure out, that our inside of our cafeteria is the wrong path for her.

And my fingers are crossed, that I am on the right path...

"Yes, of course." That is what I would tell her now.

2011-03-02T22:26:00.003-05:00

I'm standing with a group of friends, leaning against a fence. My friends are all excited. We are going somewhere. A party, I think. I am not excited. Someone is next to me. She is next to me. I know what she is going to say before she says it.

"Would you mind it much if we went together? As a couple?"

"I can't," I whisper back.

"You mean you won't."

She drops her head and storms past me. I've hurt her. I can feel it. I watch her as she disappears into the house. I know immediately that I have made a mistake. I need to tell her this. I chase after her.

I enter the house through a sliding glass door. Four people are standing in the room and are looking at me.

"Can you please tell me which way she went?" Without saying a word, all four people point up the stairs.

I run up the stairs, reach the landing. I have four doors to choose from. I choose the one to the far left, open the door, the room is empty. As I shut the door and turn, a young man is standing and looking at me. He is wearing jeans, a t-shirt and has long sandy hair.

He says, "That is the right door, but this is the wrong floor."

"Please, can you tell me where she went?"

He simply pointed up the stairs.

I start up to the next floor. The stairs feel much longer and steeper than the previous set of stairs.

I reach the next floor and facing me are the same four doors. "You have the right door..."

I choose the door on the far left, walk in, and...

...I wake up.

This was a dream I had many, many months ago. I don't remember what the girl looked like. I just know my feelings for her. I told her I couldn't. She was right; I wouldn't. I would like very much to go back to that dream so that I can take her hand, and say yes.

Why Kids Inc. was the best show ever

2011-02-23T17:35:00.007-05:00

I'm not quite sure how it started this week-wait. I do know! OK. The song "We Built This City" has been stuck in my head for almost a week now, but instead of hearing Starship's version in my head, I had the Kids Incorporated version in my head. I could even see the particular scene they did for this song in my head.

That, of course, led me to YouTube. That, of course, led me to watching a ton of old Kids Inc. versions of 80's songs. (Of course, if you're not around my age, you may have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about and when you DO Google it, you'll think I'm nuts.) That, of course, led me to making the statement to one of my best friends that "Kids Incorporated was the best show ever made."

"OK-wait. You're serious," was her reply after a few emails.

Yes. I'm totally serious.

Long before The Black Eyed Peas, Fergie was Stacy. Before Mario Lopez was Slater, he was "drummer guy". And before Jennifer Love Hewitt was the Ghost Whisperer, she was Love. If you've never seen the show, it's about a kid band that hangs out that this diner called The P*lace and they perform. Think an 80's version of Glee.

Even as a young kid, I always felt different and like I didn't always fit in. I had friends, but I was always different. Kids somehow just know when you are different. At times, I was bullied and at other times, I was laughed at. When girls started talking about crushes on boys, wanted to wear make-up, and shop, I just never really understood. I'd rather be playing ball or drawing or reading. It's like I had friends, but I didn't really fit in with them. Part of me didn't mind, but another part of me just wanted so badly to fit in. And it was like, the harder I tried to fit in, the more I stood out. Or that's how it felt to me.

Now that I look back on things, a lot of things just make sense now.

I watched Kids Incorporated every day after school. (Usually followed by the Mickey Mouse Club.) I would make up stories, as if I was part of the show and in the band. Sometimes, when my brother was still young enough to be bribed into playing make believe, we would "play" Kids Inc. We killed at air guitar.

While the show was completely silly, I watched every episode that was ever made. Several times. That time each day was a time where I could escape and not have to think about fitting in because I could create my own space where I was the star of the show. So, the part of me that didn't mind about not really fitting in was because I had my own little place that I created where I did fit in. And while my brother would never admit it, those were some of our best times together.

Stacy grew up to be Fergie. "Drummer" grew up to be Slater. Love grew up to talk to ghosts. And me? Well, I grew up to be the lovely, amazing, wonderful, and geeky girl that you know me to be.

And that is why Kids Incorporated was the best show ever made.

Now. Does anyone know where I can buy the DVDs?

The best song ever

2011-02-20T22:23:00.002-05:00

Most people don't know that Sugarland's Jennifer Nettles had a solo career once upon a time. I love Sugarland a lot, but I LOVE Jennifer Nettles' solo music. This, to me? Is the best song ever written:

Story of Your Bones - Jennifer Nettles

It's been two long months since I took a good look in the mirror
And in that time I find these lines on my face have gotten clearer
It's time I reintroduced myself to the world
Show them what I'm all about
Even if it's just so they can chew me up, turn their heads, and spit me out.

These bones in my face are from my mother
These lips I use are from my father
And the nose that rests above them is from another man
Somewhere who didn't even bother

I wonder what would he say
If he knew I got up here and rambled on this way
Would he then be proud and make it known
That he was part of me and I was one of his own

It's been five long weeks since I've been able to kiss your face
And that always makes me question if this bullshit is worth it in the first place
'Cause I have to know the story of your bones
And I long to rove the map of your skin
And I'm tired of us both feeling loved yet alone
I want to feel where you've hurt, I want to taste where you've been

But what will they say
Will they still come and hear me when they know I love you this way
As I read you with my mouth and my finger tips
Like berries you color my hands, like wine you stain lips

It's been two long months since I took a good look in the mirror.

Ten things of awesomeness

2011-02-19T10:49:00.002-05:00

It's Saturday, and for once, I have a busy day, so I'm going random. Some of these things you may or may not know about me. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

1. I can play the mandolin by ear. I cannot read music even though I tried once to learn. I can't sing, but I can rap almost all of "Lose Yourself" by Eminem.

2. I can say all 50 states in alphabetical order in less than one minute.

3. I can throw a football better than most boys. When my brother played little league, I had to practice with my brother in the backyard for hours. Result? I'm pretty damn good at football.

4. My brain thinks in pictures. I see flashes of memories in my head all the time. Even when I want to write, I "see" what I want to write, then I translate it to words.

5. I'm scatterbrained. My mom can call me and tell me to bring her something when I come over, and five minutes later, I may forget about it. However, I remember the most random facts. Some of them all the way from when I was a kid.

6. One of my favorite things is that I once visited the set of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.

7. I'm a romantic. I big one. I didn't always think I was. Laughed at people who were, so when I realized that I am a romantic, I couldn't believe it. Now, I think it's awesome.

8. I am a worrier to the core. I will think and think and think on something then worry about it long before I ever do it, but once I set my mind that I'm going to do said something, I do it. No turning back.

9. I am left-handed. Being a lefty is the best thing in the world.

10. I am constantly learning more and more about myself. It is the most bizarre and surreal yet amazing and wonderful thing in the world. When people tell me, "Don't ever change." I truly think, why not? Changing and evolving to become the most authentic versions of ourselves and better human beings is the best thing in the world, really. And despite me claiming to be half Vulcan (which I am), I truly want to be the best human being I can be.

The End. :)

I'll love you forever, like you for always...

2011-02-18T21:42:00.007-05:00

I can't remember how many times I heard the sentence, "The people you meet in college are the people who will be your friends for life."

Tell that to a shy, quiet girl who lived at home through college. Don't get me wrong, I did make a lot of friends in college, and I'm certain that if I needed any one of them, I could ask and they would be here for me in a heart beat. The thing is, though, I see on facebook how close some of them are, and I know, I just didn't make those bonds in college.

No. The friends I have made in the past five years are so are the friends that will be my friends for life. The ones here are people who truly get me down to the core. They love me for my geekiness and accept my quirky ways. I love them for that.

One thing, that I really love (in case you couldn't tell) is the internet. The internet re-connected me with a friend from grade school who has become one of my very best friends. It also gave me a space in the world to discover how much I like to write and am pretty good at it.

I never expected to meet people through my writing. People who matter. People who have completely touched and changed my life. I'm quite certain that without every single one of you have helped to shape and mold me through my journey. Some of you have shown me things about myself that I didn't know existed. Sometimes, people I least expect to make my day do.

Never underestimate the power you have to influence someone. So, when you guys tell me I'm awesome, please know that it's partly because of you.

Yes. Part of the reason I am so awesome is because of you awesome, beautiful, lovely, amazing people. And for that I am so very thankful.

How nerd became awesome

2011-02-16T22:18:00.002-05:00

Do you remember the time in your life when the words "nerd," "geek," or "dork" were bad things? And do you remember how all you ever wanted to do was avoid being one or all of those three things?

I was always pretty smart. Good grades just happened without much effort for me. I never studied for tests, wrote papers at that last second, and completed projects the day before they were due. I most always got A's. I actually liked the lectures my teachers gave. That's how I learned.

When someone called me a nerd because I was smart, my response was always, "I can't really help it. I never study." That seemed to be an acceptable response.

However, when someone called me a nerd or geek or dork because I liked things like Star Trek and space and books, I became self conscious. I read The Baby-sitter's Club way after all the other girls my age had stopped. I loved the stories so much that I had to know what happened next, even though it took me only a couple of hours to read through the book. I hid the fact that I still read them. (Sometimes I still read them.) When someone mentioned how stupid Star Trek was, I would laugh and agree. Secretly, I thought how I couldn't understand why Star Trek was stupid. I mean, come ON. Space is cool! No? Oh.

Even as an adult, I found myself not making it really known how much I loved science fiction. I had a friend or two at work who understood it, but I still felt different, and for some reason, that still wasn't OK.

One day, two of my friends at work were starting to listen to these things called podcasts. I was so sick of what the Bradys were up to on Days of Our Lives (I listened during work) that I said I would give them a try.

The first one I listened to was called Buzz Out Loud from CNET. There were two girls on the show and oh my god, they loved video games! I loved video games! And! They also love science fiction and talked about shows I loved. This was amazing to me! They called themselves geeks on purpose and loved it. I loved it. (Molly Wood and Veronica Belmont? THANK YOU.)

Listening to Buzz Out Loud (and the 20 or so podcasts about the show Lost) actually made me realize how much I had in common with the those two friends at work. We loved all of the same things. We shared a cubicle and it was a every day occurrence to walk by and see us trying something one of us had seen on the science channel. (Did you know that duct tape holds the world together? Seriously.)

People stopped by all the time to ask us what we were doing. They seemed to love it. We were cool. Being nerdy, dorky geeks was awesome.

So, in case you don't know. I am April, I love video games and space and Star Trek and science fiction and that is awesome.

If I could buy him all the toys in the world, I would. I may do it anyway.

2011-02-15T22:17:00.005-05:00

"He's here," is what my brother's text message to me said.

I replied with, "Congrats, Daddy!"

"When are you getting here. Hurry up," he texted back.

"I have one more hour of work," I responded back.

When I got to the hospital room where my brother was waiting to show me his new son, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. But in the exact moment that my brother placed that tiny little 4lb 9 oz human being in my arms, I knew what it meant to fall completely in love at first sight.

Now, at almost 3 years old, he can be a little pain in the ass.

I cringed the day he learned the word "NO!" When the word "Why?" followed "NO!", I thought my head was going to spin from the 2076 times I heard "why" in one day. Then a couple of Sundays ago when I picked him up, I heard "Are we there yet?" over and over and over until I finally I said, "Hey! Do you want to go to Target and pick out a toy?" JUST TO MAKE IT STOP. (No, really. A Sunday trip to Target is our thing.) And when he is in a bad mood, woo boy, just don't look at him. (I learned that one quick!) He steals my things and never gets tired of playing hide and seek.

Yet, he could care less about things like how much I weigh or who I love or that his daddy and I have a very strained relationship right now. All he knows is that I am his "Apul" and I love him so very much. Therefore, I have made it my mission in life to spoil him rotten. I take this mission very seriously.

After a bad day, when I walk in the door, and hear, "APUL!!!," then see his smile when he runs into my arms, he makes all the bad of the day melt away.

And I am happy.

A Valentine's Day letter to myself

2011-02-14T18:35:00.002-05:00

Dear April,

So, I see you have no Valentine this year. We're good at flying this holiday solo, huh? I know, I know. You're not feeling yourself right now. You're ready to spout off a lecture to me about how you've only had one Valentine and that Valentine was long distance (not to knock said Valentine, but that you would have just like to have been with said Valentine at the time), and you love all of that stupid Valentine's Day shit.

I know. I've heard this all before. I live it. I understand it. I feel it. I completely agree with you. Trust me, I do.

But, let me tell you something that I think you're missing right now. Don't give me that look, you know you're blinded by all the pinks and reds of this day. You know you are.

Hey. I love you.

You are really wonderful, and a lot of the time, you have no idea. People tell you this all the time and during times like this, you just don't want to listen. You're stubborn that way. You're lucky they love you a lot. It's a good thing I'm here, you know. I'm going to tell you some of the wonderful things about you. You can sit there with your arms crossed all you want, but I'm going to tell you anyway. You have to listen because I am you. (Ha!) Ready?

Your eyes. God. They are to die for. Not only are they the most brilliant of greens with these little flecks of gold, but also, when you look at someone, you don't just look at them. You look into them. It's like your searching inside of them to see how kindred their spirit is. Your eyes are also a window to the inside of you. A lot of the time people can look right at your eyes and know exactly what you're feeling. (Yeah, I know that's a pain in the ass sometimes.)

You are geeky and quirky and a lot like a kid in many ways, but you also have this old way about you. While you feel like you are experiencing life through a whole new set of eyes lately, you also have a wisdom that must come from your ancestors. You can be so serious with your thoughts sometimes. It's no wonder Mom calls you an "old soul".

You love to laugh, but more importantly, it gives you great joy to make others laugh and smile. You have an odd sense of humor sometimes, but you seem to just know how to make others laugh. You like to send silly notes or jokes just to say hi because you know that it could really brighten someone's day. The number one thing that makes you laugh most is making other people laugh.

I'm sorry, love, but you're a klutz. You have very little balance, and the floor just seems to jump up and trip you a lot. I know you're thinking, how is that good?! Well, it makes you cute and charming (or so you've been told).

You think that you are a coward most of the time, but you're really not. You are so brave. Only a brave woman could talk about her feelings in such a public way or post photos of her imperfect body to show the world how much she loves her imperfect body. It may take you a bit to think out your courage and plot your course of action, but please know, a coward, you are not.

The most important thing is this: Your heart is so big. You have a lot of feelings a lot of the time. Your brain and heart seem to be connected so you don't always just think things, but you feel what you're thinking. Sometimes, you feel like you may explode from all of the feelings you have, and while sometimes that doesn't feel good, I promise you it isn't a bad thing. Whomever wins your heart will be one lucky girl.

I know that this day is a hard day for you, and that's okay. It's almost over now, and tomorrow will be better. I hope I have reminded you of what a fantastic person you are. You have so much to give to this world. And I know that in time, you'll find the perfect girl for you and then every day can be Valentine's Day. You just have to trust that she's out there.

And for the times like today, I want you to look back at this letter and know that I am always with you.

Love,
April

PS. Your calves are hot.

Just go talk to her, I thought... No. I can't.

2011-02-05T10:37:00.002-05:00

The city I live in has exactly one gay club and one gay-friendly restaurant/bar. Many moons ago during the year that I had a roommate, my roommate's aunt, who is gay, wanted to go to the club and didn't have anyone to go with her. My roommate and I agreed we would go with her. While my roommate was kind of reluctant, secretly, I was kind of excited.

I am convinced that my ex-roommate took years off of my life. She would go through spells where she wouldn't talk to me for weeks, she would bring home random guys (one of said guys burst into my room in the middle of the night and caused me to start locking my bedroom door), and sometimes, in the middle of not talking to me, she would go out, then call me at 3 a.m. to come pick her up from whatever bar she was at. She also constantly accused me of being gay. Her ex-husband had convinced her that I was in love with her and was trying to get into her pants. That was not true; she was never anything more than a friend to me, but she was convinced of what he said. As someone who knew she was attracted to girls but didn't fully understand what that meant (because I didn't fit the description of what I knew as "gay", which was ignorant) and constantly being hounded about it, I denied it every single time she said something.

The night we went to the club, was an amazing experience for me. I had never been around so many gay people in my life, and while it was a bit of a shock to my sheltered self, I also felt oddly like this was normal. But also, I was so scared that my roommate would see how much I was enjoying myself. I was so nervous I could hear my heart beat in my head. It's a wonder I didn't explode from having so many feelings.

At one point, I saw a girl who was my basketball teammate in high school. It didn't surprise me that she was there, and I found myself watching her for a long time. I felt some sort of pull towards her. I wasn't sure why, but I really wanted to talk to her. Instead, I tried to make sure she never saw me.

I've been thinking a lot about that night at the club and now I understand what that pull was. I wanted to go to her and say, "Help me. I'm having so many feelings that I don't understand, and I need to talk. Can I talk to you?" Or something like that. Instead I was a coward. Instead, I stood there and watched her, then an older lady wearing Wranglers and a leather vest stumbled up to me, handed me a beer, almost fell into me, and burned me with her cigarette.

I often joke how that night scared me all the way to the back of the closet for many more years. Seriously, what scared me was a number of things, but it's more fun to say it was that night.

I wonder how my life may have been different if I had been brave enough to talk to my old friend. Would I have found the courage to come out sooner? Would that have been better? I'm not certain. That time of my life was mostly lived in fear, so I'm not sure that accepting my sexuality was something that I could have handled. Survival was key during those years, and I did what I had to do to just survive.

Regardless, my friend from high school is one of my heroes. I remember her as being one of the shy ones (like me), and she always was one of my favorite teammates. I know through the magic that is facebook, that she has a very happy life with her girlfriend here in this city. That makes me happy for her and gives me hope that I can maybe have the same thing one day. (If I stay here, that is.) I would love to talk with her still, but again I find myself being a coward. I guess old habits die hard.

Yeah, she's totally one of my heroes. Maybe one day, I'll tell her so.

"It's who you are. Doesn't change anything."

2011-02-01T19:19:00.004-05:00

I wrote this whole post last night based on a whole lot of feelings. Feelings about going against my nature and trying to put myself out there to make new friends with little success. While, I felt every feeling in that post and cried most of the evening, I decided to sit on the post and edit it tonight. This morning, I got a tiny (and I mean TINY) sign, that maybe things are paying off. So, while that post was true, I have decided to keep that post to myself for now. And after that tiny sign came another great thing, and that is what I want to share with you...

Actual text messages between me and my cousin, J. :

J: Have a question for you, if you're willing to hear it?

Me: OK

J: Have you known this about yourself for a while and sure this is what you want or is it an experimental thing? And I'm not trying to get too personal. (This made me giggle just a bit.)

Me: I've known. I didn't want to bring shame to the family so I tried to be straight. I failed.

J: You didn't fail. It's who you are. Doesn't change anything. When the time is right, our family can know. If it doesn't feel right, then they can wait. Don't ever feel ashamed.

Me: Thank you. I'm not anymore.

I should explain something about my cousin. A long time ago when I dreamed of getting married (OK, fine, I still dream of that sometimes.), my dad told me that if I ever tried to make him wear a tux, he wouldn't come to my wedding. I'm not sure, but he may have been serious. When I told J this he said, "Then I'LL walk you down the aisle."

When I tell people about my family, I say I grew up with three boys. J was one of those boys. He's like a big brother to me. When I was dealing with a bully in junior high school, J drove to my house, marched me down to the kid's house and asked the older boy what his problem was. It's a funny thing that after that, the boy's problem with me magically disappeared.

When I came out to him back in the fall, I asked, "Do you still love me?"

He said, "Of course I still love you."

This? Is my biggest fear when it comes to telling people I'm closest to. J and I were raised in a family whose beliefs are that being gay is sick, not acceptable, gross. Horrible words are used to refer to people like me on a regular basis. Hearing these words over and over my whole life makes it hard for me to use anything but the word "gay" to refer to myself. (Gay was never used.) While I know that the core of these beliefs is ignorance, it still hurts. Sometimes, it hurts a lot.

The second that J told me that he still loved me, I knew that it was going to be OK. And most of the fear left me. I know some people I am related to will not change, and that's a shame, but if they can't love me because of who I love, then they don't deserve me anyway.

"You're an awesome big brother," I told him today.

And he is.

I wonder where this path leads, she thought.

2011-01-30T22:37:00.005-05:00

Back in the summer, a really good friend of mine and I took her daughter on a hiking adventure. We were in no hurry, so we let her daughter lead the way. This nine year old girl has the most amazing imagination I have ever encountered in my life. What happened on that hike, was nothing short of extraordinary for me.

We were magically transported to a far away land, where we met a caterpillar named Sean. He told us his he would be our guide and protector throughout our journey. (Sean appeared to us several times. Our only conclusion was he could transport himself to where we were.) We met butterflies (My apologies. I forget their names. I have them written down some place.) and saw ruins of castles and caught glimpses of King Edmund and Queen Lucy. And! Of course we saw a dragon.

It took us twice as long as that hike should have and it was the best hike of my life. That night, I had a dream of a young woman walking through the woods with a protector. She was on a journey that not even she was sure of. She was a bit afraid and unsure, but she knew that if she didn't make this journey, she knew all would be lost. I can still close my eyes and see the scene.

Back in the fall, I made several trips to Charlotte. For the most part, the three hour drive is pretty boring, but there is one part of the drive that is absolutely breathtaking. The view, which is from the side of a mountain, leaves me at a loss for words.

On those drives, I began to imagine that the girl from my dream is from this wonderful land. I decided to ask her. She acknowledged that yes, she is from that land. And she's has been with me since. She has been telling me little things about herself and sharing her story.

It's a fascinating tale.

I think I should write it....

...would you read it?

It may take me five thousand years to finish this, considering that I will only be writing part-time, but I think it's made of awesome. While the story I write isn't exactly like what my hiking adventure with my friends, it amazes me that all of this began with a girl on a hike, and a caterpillar named Sean.

Does anyone know where I can find my own dragon?

2011-01-26T23:06:00.003-05:00

I've been having a love affair with a dragon. NOT THAT KIND OF LOVE AFFAIR. Come on, people! No, I'm reading Eldest by Christopher Paolini and one of the main characters is a dragon called Saphira. Saphira's mind connected with her Dragon Rider, Eragon. (Another main character is an elf, and she's hot, too, but I love Saphira best.)

Anyway, yesterday, Eragon, Saphira and I just completed Rider training for the day and Saphira said something that, when I read it, I actually felt some sort of feeling hit my heart. I've thought and thought about what Saphira said, and now, I want to share it with you.

She said: Live in the present, remember the past, and fear not the future, for it doesn't exist and never shall. There is only now.

"Live in the present,"

I have always had a hard time with this. I can't always just enjoy the moment. I'm constantly thinking, well what about this or OMG! What if THAT happens? What ifs are sort of my thing. Some of my friends limit the number of hypothetical situations I'm allowed to ponder on with them. I have a really hard time just relaxing and enjoying the now.

In case you haven't picked up on it, "worry" is my middle name.

"remember the past,"

I got this one down pat, but what I need to work on is to not linger in the past. I still think of things that happened years and years ago, and I admit that I need to learn to let it go. I need to learn to forgive for those things that happened years and years ago. (This is going to be hard. But I'm going to try.)

"and fear not the future,"

I admit it. I'm all kinds of scared of the future. Especially right now. I like straight lines and clear paths and right now, I feel like I'm stuck deep within a dark maze with no hope of finding my right path again.

I'm afraid of ending up alone. I'm afraid of discussions that I still need to have. I'm afraid of losing more people. I'm afraid of things that could happen.

I liked to call myself brave, but I don't feel so brave right now.

But then she said, "for it doesn't exist and never shall. There is only now."

You know? She's right. (Dragons are so smart.) If I want to continue on my journey of uniting my mind, body, and soul, I need to live more by Saphira's advice. I'm going to work harder to live more like this. The future doesn't really exist. Because once the future gets here, it's the now. I can't promise to never worry or fear or ponder over things, but I can promise (myself) to work on it.

I guess, the awesome things about mazes is that there always IS a right path. I just need to find my right path once again. Find it, I will. I hope. No. I will. Right? (Hey. Rome wasn't built in a day.)

Just like any other day. Sort of.

2011-01-24T17:30:00.002-05:00

Not too long ago, I decided to give up my fight against sleep and take Nyquil. Twenty minutes or so later, I was out. Usually, I wake up at least once during the middle of the night. Not this night. The next thing I knew, my alarm was screaming at me to get up.

I had one of those, "I'M UP!" moments where I sprang to life and out of bed. My dogs; however, did not. My German Shepherd groaned, and my cocker spaniel just looked at me. (It's usually the opposite. They're springing up, and I'm slow to move. Something about this should have clued me in.)

They both just looked at me, so I gave them, "Come on! Let's go outside!" Reluctantly they both got up and followed me to the back door.

I made my way to the bathroom and took my morning shower. While in the shower, I felt like something was off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I thought maybe it was Saturday or something, so I counted my days. No, I thought, it definitely is not Saturday. I concluded that my "off" feeling was because I had taken the Nyquil and slept all night long.

Usually, by the time I get out of the shower, let the girls back in, and head back to my bedroom to get ready for the day (Read: Lie back down for 15 mins and "watch" the news with my eyes shut.), I can start to see the light of day. Not that day. It was still SUPER dark out. Must be overcast, I thought. Al Roker will tell me.

I let the girls back in and my cocker spaniel gave me a look that clearly said, "What in the hell is the matter with you?" I shrugged and off to my bedroom we headed.

When we reached my room, I saw what her problem was. The clock read: 2:00. That's A.M., people.

I dreamed that my alarm had gone off, and instead of checking the time (Because my alarm had gone off! In my head.), I just got up.

Nquil's awesome like that.

How I was ever able to get my belly button pierced, I'll never know.

2011-01-19T22:31:00.005-05:00

When I was little and would see my mom get the nail clippers out, I would cry. I hated having my nails cut. I tensed up and cried and fought as hard as I could to try to convince my mom that cutting my nails just wasn't worth it. I lost every time.

To this day, I hate to cut my nails. It makes my hands feel weird. After cutting my nails, it's possible that I will walk around with my hands balled in fists for a long time.

I was the child that all my parents had to do was say my name a certain way and I knew I was in trouble. Promptly after hearing my name being said that way, I would start crying. I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "Toughen up." or "You can't be so tender-hearted." My parents never really had to ground me. When I was in trouble, I would sit and think and think and feel guilty about what I had done wrong. I can still think about things I did YEARS ago and feel terrible about it.

Things that some people may think is no big deal can send me into a deep cave of guilt/despair/or whatever feeling comes with the situation. Sometimes emotional pain can equal physical pain for me. (I'm wondering now if the "cold" I can't seem to get rid of isn't caused some by emotional things. I've had a lot of feelings lately, eh?)

The plus side to all of this is that I'm probably the most empathetic person you'll ever meet. When someone I love hurts, I feel all of their pain.

Only recently did I discover that there is a term for this state of tender-heartedness. I am what is called a Highly Sensitive Person. My brain is hard-wired to react this way and when I factor in ghosts of my past, it amazes me that I'm still functioning.

I have to work incredibly hard to not overreact to things. When compared to say, ten years ago, I'm loads better and can "breathe" through it. However, sometimes I fail.

It's been a struggle lately for me to not think the words "worthless", disappointment", "unwanted" about myself. A few times I have failed. My head knows my heart is being ridiculous. My head knows I am beautiful and loving and sincere and sweet. Instead of my head telling my heart it's being silly, it says, "Heart, it's OK. We'll make it through, but you're going to have to let me take over most of the time." My heart has agreed.

But my heart still has its moments. Like today. I cried today. For no real reason at all. At work.

I'm not fragile; I've survived some tough shit in my life. It's just that I sometimes feel things differently than others. I know things will get better, and I thank everyone for being so understanding.

I brag that I'm half Vulcan, but what I really am is Tender Heart Bear. Do Care Bears get to wear capes?

One Starbucks down, about one hundred to go.

2011-01-17T23:20:00.003-05:00

Two times in the past week, I have done two things that I never thought I would do. First, I went to Panera and had lunch and read a book for an hour. Today, I headed to Starbucks for no other reason than just to write.

Today, especially, was an interesting experience for me. It took me twice as long to write because I was constantly watching people. (Is that normal?) I chose to listen to the score of Lost to silence out people's conversations. Then I found myself wondering what those people were talking about. The microwave sounded like a rocket taking off. Even through my ear buds, I could hear it blast off! and so I would jump. (And let's not even talk about how my netbook was being an asshole.)

I've struggled with understanding why people read and write in public. I can read and write at home, so why would I go into public to do these things? There are less distractions for me at home. OK. That's a lie. There are plenty of distractions at home (Read: video games and TV) but there are no other people at home, and I've never seen that as a bad thing.

But here is a contradiction of me: I say that being around no people isn't a bad thing for me, yet a lot of the time, I feel lonely.

I also struggle with the logic of going to public places to read or write because even though I'm around people, I'm still alone. I'm just alone in public. I'm not scared of being alone or doing things alone. I've lived alone for seven years now. So, alone doesn't bother me; I just don't really like being alone anymore.

I think part of my problem is that I imagine going to a coffee shop, and while working on the next best seller (guess I need to start the next best seller, huh?), I look up and see the most beautiful pair of eyes watching me from across the room. After we make eye contact, we smile, and then who knows what happens. Clearly, I watch too much TV.

I guess I need to look at it differently. I'm doing things I've never done before to help me become a more well-rounded person. (Or something.) That is a good thing. (I guess.) I do know that neither place I went to really felt like "my place". Maybe I just need to keep looking. There are plenty of Starbucks in my town, after all.

Maybe one day I will find my place. And maybe it won't always be alone.

You see, I have this spare glass slipper

2011-01-10T22:32:00.004-05:00

I love the story of Cinderella. It's probably my favorite fairy tale. Despite using British accents in a movie that is set in France, one of my favorite versions of this tale is the movie Ever After. I've been thinking about this scene from the movie a lot lately:

Henry: Well then how can you be certain to find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are? And what happens if the person you're supposed to be with never appears, or, or she does, but you're too distracted to notice?

Leonardo da Vinci: You learn to pay attention.

Henry: Then let's say God puts two people on Earth and they are lucky enough to find one another. But one of them gets hit by lightning. Well then what? Is that it? Or, perchance, you meet someone new and marry all over again. Is that the lady you're supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first? And is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?

This is totally how my mind works. Not just about love, but about EVERYTHING. I can't help it. Most of the time, my random string of hypotheticals somehow manage to turn into something logical, but it seems in terms of love, I'm still confused.

As soon as I think that I have love figured out, life decides to throw me a curve ball and I'm left thinking, "Well, now what?"

There was a time when I decided that I was not made for love. I was content with my decision, and I made it work for years. (Let's ignore the fact that I was afraid to face my fears and admit and accept what was in my heart, and that's why I made it work for years.) Now, I know that I was wrong. I don't want to spend my life alone. I capable of love. I think I'm good at loving. My heart is good. (And dammit, I'm a catch.)

If there is someone out there for me, then where is she?

I know I need to be patient and time, and I can be patient. (I think I can be patient.) But damn, this one has me stumped. I thought I had it figured out- or I thought it had figured me out. Whichever.

Maybe instead of wondering who/what/when, I need to start telling myself that someone IS out there, and it WILL happen one day exactly when it's meant to. The least I can do is give that line of reasoning a try, huh?

I guess now I know why I never played softball... I can't hit a curve ball.

How Jennifer Nettles saved my life. Twice.

2011-01-07T22:16:00.004-05:00

I was in my early twenties the first time I saw two girls kiss on TV. I wasn't sure that I liked the way my body responded to what I had just seen. Okay, no. I did like it, and that scared me, and that's what I didn't like. So, I tried to tuck it in the back of my mind and forget about it. (Except that I was totally hooked on the story of the two girls and needed to see what happened next.)

For many years, I kept that buried deep within me. Until...

In case you don't know, Jennifer Nettles is one half of the country music duo, Sugarland. One day, I set off on an internet adventure to find out more about Sugarland and I happened upon Jennifer Nettles solo site. An hour and thirty-one dollars later, one of her solo CDs what on its way to my hands.

The CD I purchased was a live acoustic concert she gave one year on New Year's Eve. What I discovered in that performance was a Jennifer Nettles that you don't normally see with Sugarland. She was amazing and I loved her solo music. I listened to it over and over and over. And over.

One night, in my dreams, I was on a tropical beach with my ipod and my sketchpad. I, of course, was listening and singing along to my Jennifer Nettles solo CD. The next thing I knew, there Jennifer Nettles was! And she liked me! One thing led to another in my dream and I woke up with a start and said, "Well, that's something new." (Except that it really wasn't, was it?)

I couldn't wait for every day to end so that I could go back to my dream where Jennifer was waiting for me. It was the best romance I had ever experienced. It was beautiful and lovely and it was the first time I felt normal in a romantic situation. However, it was just a dream, and soon I knew that what I had tried to bury for so many years needed to surface.

When I'm sad, I can't listen to music. I'm not sure why, but it's like my brain needs the silence so that everything can process. When my brain gets tired of the silence, I'll start listening to music again. A couple of days ago, I absently turned my CD player on in my car and the first song that played was Sugarland's "Little Miss". It touched me so deeply that it's the only song that I've been able to listen to.

The song repeats the words "It's alright." and "I'm okay." over and over again. And you know how they say that if you hear something long enough, you'll start to believe it? I believe it now. It's alright, and I am okay.

So, you see, Jennifer Nettles didn't really save my life, but she's helped me twice to know that I am okay. For that, I am thankful.

I'm not sure where life is going to take me now. But I know that no matter where it leads me, I am okay.

I am okay.

"Little Miss" -Sugarland

PTOOOEY!

2011-01-03T19:17:00.005-05:00

When my brother and I reached the ages of know-it-all and smartass, my mom would so rudely interrupt the awesomeness of playing Nintendo or watching Saved by the Bell and tell one of us to "hit the shower". Either my brother or I would promptly get up without complaining, walk to the bathroom, literally smack the tiles, walk back to the living room and continue what we were doing. Were we cool or what? OK, no. I still think that's funny.

Clearly, my mom has not learned her lesson in the past 15 or 20 years...

My nephew will be three in March and he LOVES TO TALK. Like, talking is his favorite thing. (Unless, of course, he doesn't know you. Then he reminds me of the Warner Brothers frog.) When he gets super excited, he sometimes stammers. I think this can be typical in youngsters. (I hope he grows out of it. When I'm REALLY upset or nervous, I have to really work not to stammer.) Anyway, here is how a conversation between my mom and my nephew went the other day:

Clay: "Grandma?"

Mom: "Yes, Clay?"

Clay: "Grandma?"

Mom: "What, honey?"

Clay: "Can I- Can I- Can I- Can I-..."

Mom: "Spit it out."

My nephew looked at my mom sort of confused-like and then spit on the living room floor.

I admit it. I laughed.

God, I love that kid.

Just add sprinkles to it...

2011-01-02T22:11:00.003-05:00

Today was my mom's birthday. I wanted to bake her a cake and decorate it just like they do on TV. I spent all Christmas Day lying on my mom's couch dying of the worst cold known to man and together we watched this show on TLC about decorating cakes. (Not Cake Boss, but that other one.) And I said, "I can do that." So, I decided that for my mom's birthday, I would bake her a cake and make it look all pretty because I am awesome that way.

So, today, I took my mom to the mall so she could pick out a birthday present, then we went back to her house to bake her the most awesome cake in the world. Then the power went off. The cake had 10 mins left to bake. So, I left the cake in the oven for way longer than I was supposed to and hoped for the best.

I let the layers cool then decided I would layer the cake, piece it together (Just like they do on TV. I mean, come on, it looks easy on TV, right? Right.) and all would be well. When I put the third layer on the whole fucking thing fell apart. And so did I.

My mom knows I'm heart sick, but she doesn't know why. She's trying everything in her power to be cheerful and to help me through this, but she can't. I've opened my mouth a thousand times to say, "Mom, I fell in love with this woman. She is so special and wonderful, and it didn't work out, and I lost her." But every time I open my mouth, something happens and it doesn't feel right. Also, I'm afraid that if I tell her, I'll break all over again. I couldn't handle that right now.

It's been a week since we've talked, and the only thing I know is that my life doesn't feel good without her in it. I'm not sure what that means or if it means anything at all. I'm not sure of anything. No. I know she is still special and wonderful, and sometimes things just don't work out. But nights are long and lonely, and the only way I can escape my thoughts is by reading. So, I read a lot.

I know what every single one of you are going to say. Some of you have already said things to me. I appreciate it. I do. I'm just... Well you know.

One time I gave up dating. I found contentment with being alone. I hope I'll find contentment with alone again.

Maybe I'll dig a hatch on an Island and live in it until Elizabeth Mitchell comes to rescue me. Or Jennifer Nettles. (Lame attempt at a joke.)

My mom pieced the cake back together, by the way. It looked like crap, but we ate it anyway. Complete with the sprinkles my nephew put on top of it. Sprinkles make everything better.

Sometimes Fairy Tales Suck

2010-12-29T21:36:00.003-05:00

Not so long ago, in a galaxy not so far away, there lived a girl. The girl had a very old soul and a very pure heart. She lived alone with two loyal companions. Dogs that she was almost certain that if anyone else had rescued them, they would not have survived. As much mischief as her dogs sometimes caused her, she loved them more than life. They were the most loyal people in the world.

But as much as she loved her dogs, she felt alone. She longed for more. For love. For her own family. For someone to share her life with. She was good at saying she didn't want love, but every time she saw two people in love, the pangs in her heart told her otherwise. They told her she wanted that for herself.

And then! She found love. Love that fairy tales were made of. It was amazing and wonderful and even though change was hard for her, she knew that things were just right. And all would be well.

But the fairy tale was not to be.

And once again, she was alone.

I'm no Michelangelo but I think I can pull off Picasso

2010-12-16T20:01:00.004-05:00

I get asked a lot if I ever took art classes. In the eighth and ninth grades, when given the choice to paint or be forced to use a sewing machine, I chose painting. And so those were the only two art classes I've ever taken.

I learned to paint from Bob Ross. No, really. I watched and watched and watched him paint on TV, and one day I said, "I can do that." So, I bought a canvas and paints and painted my first landscape. Painting is pure enjoyment for me. When I get into a painting "mode" I can sit and paint for hours. I get lost in the world I'm creating on canvas. Other times, it may take me months to complete a piece.

One of my favorite things is a blank canvas. A blank canvas is a whole world just waiting to be created. The best thing about painting is that you can paint as much as you like, or as little as you like. You go at the pace that creativity allows you. If you make a mistake, it can always be fixed. If you feel like a tree "lives right there" or if a rock is "resting right here", you add it. (Be sure to make the little "whooshing" sounds that Mr. Ross always made.) Or! Painting can be abstract where you, as the artist, may interpret it one way, but someone else may interpret it a completely different way.

Painting is all about feelings. It begins with a feeling. Things are added and taken away based on feelings. A painting is complete when the artist feels like it's complete. Then, the world can interpret the painting based on new and different feelings.

I think of life as a painting. It's all about feelings. Sometimes, life comes at you so hard, so fast that you get lost in whatever world you're in. Other times, it may take you weeks and weeks or sometimes even months to figure things out. Things are added or taken away constantly. Sometimes your painting is blended with someone else's painting. Your vision slowly and surely becomes the same. Eventually, you create whole new worlds and colors, and maybe even a little tree "lives right there". Yet, then there will be times, even when your painting is blending with another, that you just want to paint on your own. And that is OK. (No one said you can only have one painting. What would the world be like if every artist was limited to only one painting. There may be no [enter your favorite painting here].)

Life is always, always abstract. The way you interpret it is up to you, the artist. It is what you make of it.

The thing about MY life right now is everything just feels right.

WAIT. I think a little tree lives *right there*. (Yes, I made the whooshing sound.) And maybe a rock will rest over.....

I tried to fool the world, but I could not fool my heart

2010-12-08T19:23:00.009-05:00

For a few years now, I've been on a journey. I'm looking to unite my mind, body, and soul. If I want to do continue to do that and strive to be the best person I can, this has to be said.

I fell in love with a boy once. I knew as sure as the sky is blue that we could have had a nice life together, but I let fear control me and I never told him how I felt. Then, one day his mother told me he met a girl. A few months later, they were engaged and a year later, they were married.

I sat in the church at his wedding trying to be happy for him and his bride, but really all I thought of is where I went wrong.

Now, I realize that the exact moment that he chose her was the beginning of a journey for me. A journey to discover my true self. (I should send him and his wife a thank you note.)

I can't tell you how many times I've heard from family members, "Are you dating anyone?" "Have you met you a nice boy yet?" "April, when are you gonna find a good man and get married?" My great-aunt Opal used to walk up to me, pick up my left hand, see my naked ring finger, shake her head, and walk away without ever saying a word. (This always made me laugh.)

Despite disappointing a lot of my family in this area of my life, I did date. As a result of meeting and dating "nice" boys, I've been stood up, sort of phone stalked(this is actually a funny story), stood up again, demanded sex happen NOW (this guy was dumped immediately), rejected, and told I would never have a real relationship. Not one relationship ever lasted longer than three months.

I decided that there was something broken in my brain that wouldn't allow me to be in a healthy, happy relationship with a nice boy. (Let's disregard the fact that the boys weren't that nice, OK? Thanks.) And I gave up dating. I made peace with that. I could learn to be content with never finding love. At times, I was content.

I always knew I was different growing up. I wasn't like the girls who loved to shop or knew how to perfectly poof their bangs every morning, and when my aunt gave me a make-up set for Christmas when I was 17, I thanked her with a smile, but secretly thought, why in the world would she give me something like this?

Throughout my twenties, I was asked several times if I was gay. Rumors were spread around work. Some people won't even talk to me still because of these rumors. I always strongly denied the rumors because in my mind, I wasn't gay. To me, being gay meant that you cut your hair like a guy, you dressed in guys' clothes and you hated men. I was none of those things. Yet I was different.

You see, being gay in my family means that you are not accepted. It means you've made a choice to live your life not according to the way God would want you to live your life. If you are gay, you also are not a child of God and do not accept Him into your life. Very few of my family members feel like being gay was something that is you are born with.

I've been at family functions and seen family members hear the word "gay" or "lesbian" and snarl their noses, as if being gay is something gross.

All I ever wanted was to be accepted. I tried to just blend in. The harder I tried to blend in, the more I failed. So, I decided to embrace the fact that I am a nerd. I love books and fantasy and I believe in magic and I keep toys on my desk at work. I think Star Trek is cool and aliens are real and when I hike, I always look for unicorns. (And I have a BS in Mathematics.)

With acceptance of my nerdiness (and others' acceptance of my nerdiness), came acceptance that different is OK. I started looking within me at other parts of me that are different. What I found is that, yes, I am gay. Being gay is as much a part of me as my nerdiness. It is as much a part of me as my hair is brown or my eyes are green. And what I found is while, others may not think it's OK, I had to first realize myself that it is OK. I am more than OK.

Slowly, as I started telling people, I realized that not everyone believes as most in my family does. Gay, straight, brown, white, yellow, green, I am still April. I will always be April. I will always be working to better myself as a human and I am who I am.

What I found, is that most people like April just because I'm me.

Three months ago, I started dating this amazing girl. I never knew love could be so beautiful and so fun. While the future has not yet been written, I hope that we are in each other's lives for a long, long time.

I'm not sure what the future holds at all. I'm not sure what my family will say when they find out about my sexuality (from me or if they read it here). But one thing I do know is that no matter what people say or what they think, I am good. Life is good.

And it will all be OK.

Queen Penelope is back online. Or now online. Whatever.

2010-12-04T12:16:00.004-05:00

I told myself I would never play FarmVille.

Don't get me wrong, I had nothing against the game. I was intrigued when I heard people at work talking about it. Here's the thing. I've always wanted to play World of Warcraft. But I heard on a podcast that unless you play like 20 hours a week, you don't really get the full experience.

And then there is this.

See what I mean?! I can't get hooked on something like that! (Except I could totally get hooked on something like that.)

Then one day someone asked, "Will you be my FarmVille neighbor? You don't have to play, I just need a neighbor."

Sure, I thought. There would be no harm in signing up so I could be her neighbor, right? Right. So, I logged into Facebook, signed up for FarmVille, and that was that.

Except...

Well, my farmer didn't look like me at all. So, if I was going to be on FarmVille my farmer had to look a bit like me, even if I wasn't going to play. Three hours later, my farmer looked cute. Just like me.

Then, well, they gave me a few crops all ready to harvest. No harm in harvesting them, right? Oh my God, you get coins for harvesting! Well, I guess if that's the case, there would be no harm in planting another crop or two. Just for fun.

I knew I was in trouble when I had to go out of town for a day, and I asked a certain someone if she would watch over my farm for the day. WHAT? Did I just really ask someone to watch over my virtual farm? Crap. I'm in trouble.

In the middle of my out of town day (which was not a fun day for me), I got an email. It read, "Don't panic when you see all the crops I planted on your farm. It's under control."

That email made me laugh out loud and was the best part of my day. I smiled the rest of the day, thinking about that email.

When I got home that night, the first thing I did was to check on my farm. Oh my God, I had pigs now! They were so cute! I knew my heart was lost to my farm.

Moral of the story: Saying never will come back to bite you in the ass. And FarmVille is fun.

It all started with a coloring book...

2010-11-17T22:36:00.006-05:00

Did you guys know that, you can get a whole box of 120 Crayola crayons? I had no clue. Yet, a couple of months ago, I received a box of 120 crayons as a gift and it is one of my favorite gifts ever. Maybe one day I'll tell you why it is one of my favorite gifts ever. That day is not today.

When I opened my amazingly perfect gift of 120 Crayola crayons, that famous Crayola smell spoke to my senses. (It's one of my favorite smells.) I had the picture that I wanted to color chosen but before I started filling the white page with color, I looked over each and every crayon.

How could I possibly, use these perfect crayons? They were brand new and perfectly shaped. It broke my heart to ruin that. For about 10 seconds.

As I colored, I remembered the show on TV that I watched on how crayons were made. I wished it were on right then.

I know you're all wondering: April? Just what are your favorite Crayola crayon colors? You're thinking that, yeah? I mean, how could you not? NO WORRIES. I'm going to tell you.

Burnt Orange is my absolute favorite color ever. It's Hokie Orange. (Not to be confused with Tennessee Orange, which is pretty great, too.) It's a color of autumn, which is the most beautiful season. I drive a burnt orange car, for crying out loud.

Mango Tango is such a fun color. It's still orange (which in case you didn't know, is my favorite color), but with a twist. Also, for coloring purposes, it is great for shading when used with Burnt Orange. Using these two colors, I can draw the perfect setting sun. Plus, mangoes are great for you!

I have always loved the color Eggplant. I do not like the food, but the color is great. (OK, fine, I've never tried it, but I'm pretty sure I won't like it. Feel free to prove me wrong.) It's probably my second favorite color after orange.

What color goes great with purple? Green. And Fern goes great with Eggplant. Whenever I use Eggplant when coloring, I'm almost sure to use Fern. If you have those two colors handy, go ahead and try it, I'll bet you go, "Ooooh!"

And what is better than Crayola crayon color names? Not much, really. My favorite Crayola color names are Fuzzy Wuzzy and Tinkle Me Pink. They make me giggle.

Do YOU have a favorite Crayola crayon color? Let's hear it!

What do you mean they don't want to be fed?!

2010-11-16T23:10:00.002-05:00

I cannot express to you how awesome my thirties have been to me so far. I've traveled here and there, I've met so many great people. I became an aunt to the best little boy in the world who calls me "Apul" instead of April. I have found my heart and am on a constant journey to be the most authentic version of me that I can be. I thought, too, of how close I am to reaching that grand age of thirty-five.

Most people freak out when they think of turning thirty-five. Am I right? Well, not me. There are so many things that I have to look forward to. So many things that I cannot wait to do. So, I'm looking forward to spending my thirties just LIVING.

So, just for you, here are some things that I've decided that I really need to do before I turn thirty-five:

1. Feed a giraffe - Guys, I've been waiting to do this like my whole life. Two summers ago, I went to the NC Zoo on the very first day that the brand new giraffe feeding station opened. Every night the week before, I dreamed about feeding a giraffe and that giraffe loving me from the get-go, and, of COURSE the Zoo asked me to stay forever to be this giraffe's keeper. What really happened was four young giraffes decided they weren't hungry when it was my turn at the feeding station. They wouldn't even come close, and my heart was crushed.

2. Visit London - I know this one is going to happen. It's in the bag. I have a plan, which includes selling my house. As soon as the money hits the bank, I'm purchasing tickets. (All I need to do now is turn in my passport forms.)

3. Run one or more 10Ks - Stop reading. Pick your jaws up off your keyboards. I KNOW. Yes, running is still not my thing. It will never be my thing, but I think if I keep the distances to 10K or less, I can make this happen. I mean, I can run 3 miles, no problem. After that, my brain shuts down and says, "You are done running for today. Thank you for playing." But I think I have some 10Ks in me. Really. I do.

4. Go to Atlantis or Hawaii - I want to see blue, blue waters. I want to learn to snorkel in those blue waters so that I can say hello to Nemo and Dory. And I want to swim with dolphins. Yes. This has to be done.

5. Write a book - This one is calling at me more and more. I've started countless books and never finished them. I'm not even sure I still have any one of them because they're on my ancient desktop that got a stupid virus and now sounds like it will blow up when I attempt to turn it on. (Yes, I had virus protection.) Anyway, the point is, I'm not sure exactly what I want to write about, but I feel a story brewing in the back of my brain.

And there ya have it.

My favorite photos

2010-11-15T22:03:00.003-05:00

I was asked what are my favorite photos that I've ever taken, so I looked back through all of my old posts and realized how hard of a task this was going to be for me. I've narrowed it down to five, but really, I love so many of my photos. I only play at photography, so when I get a good shot, I get super excited. If you've been here for a while, you've seen these before. If you're new, I hope you enjoy.

Snow falling during one of the many, many snows of last winter:

This has to be my favorite photo ever of Kelci (same snow):

*siiiigh* I love giraffes:

Self portrait of me and the little dude last year:

This shot just popped in my head and all of a sudden I HAD TO CAPTURE IT. It's my nephew's hand, in case you were wondering:

One night I dreamed I had to find someone and I never did...

2010-11-14T22:10:00.005-05:00

Dreams. Do they really mean anything? Honestly, I'm too afraid to find out. I have always dreamed vividly, even when I was a kid.

In my dreams, I have gone everywhere that one may imagine going. I have done everything that one may imagining doing. I've met famous people, traveled the world, gone to magical places, and starred in all of my favorite TV shows. (In MY dreams, the third season of LOST was much, much better.)

But with good dreams can also come bad ones. I used to have a lot of bad ones. I've woken up in a sweat and have been too scared to go back to sleep. I've wondered if whatever monster was chasing me through those dark and scary woods would really find me in my bed. I had terrible dreams that I was in school and forgot to wear my bra and EVERYONE MADE FUN OF ME. That was a nightmare for a girl who always felt different and only wanted to fit in.

When I was in my early teens, a Native American store opened up in a nearby mall. They had these things called dream catchers. I read on the tag that dream catchers were meant to keep bad dreams away.

After much deliberation, I decided to buy one. I chose the one that was different from all of the rest.

I hung it in my bedroom window and went to sleep knowing that I would never have to worry about a nightmare again. And it has been with me, hanging in my bedroom window every night since I bought it. When I move to a new place, the first thing I do is hang my dream catcher.

Does it really work, you ask? The answer is simple. I would be lying if I said that all I've ever had since that day were amazingly good dreams. A few bad ones here and there do manage to get through. But here's the thing: I know it works. It works because I believe it works. It works its magic every night because I give it the power to.

You may call it superstitious, and it may be. I don't care. Why would I take the chance of taking it down and being stuck with that dream where I go to school with no bra on?!

All you have to do is believe. And I believe.

Magic Does Exist

2010-11-13T10:59:00.004-05:00

Sometimes we get lucky
And for a short while
We find a place
Where time almost halts
And everything is right with the world.

Gerbils are not dogs. (But they can be fun.)

2010-11-12T23:09:00.003-05:00

The one thing I always wanted was a dog. Every so often, I would beg and beg and beg my dad to let us get a dog. I would plan my approach, make sure he was in a good mood, be extra helpful around the house, finally work up the courage, and in my tiny little voice I would ask:

"Dad, can we get a dog?"

"No, April. I've told you this before."

This would hurt my feelings so bad. I just couldn't understand. Dogs were great. Why couldn't he see that?

Recognizing that he had hurt my feelings, he would try to make up for it by telling my I could get some other kind of pet.

My second favorite of the tiny critters I grew up with was my gerbil. She was grey with a white spot on top of her head. I named her Penny from the Disney movie "The Rescuers".

At eight years old, I had the patience and determination to earn Penny's trust, and soon, we were fast friends. As soon as I got home from school, I would get her out of her cage, put her on my shoulder, and together, we would go on great adventures throughout the house.

One day, Penny and I walked into the living room and my dad was napping on the couch.

Now, I'm not sure why I thought this was a good idea, I looked at my gerbil. Then, glanced down at my dad's chest. Then, I looked back at Penny, and thought, Let's wake Dad up! He'll think it's great!

So, I held Penny over my sleeping dad, and gently plopped Penny down.

My dad woke up to Penny staring him in the face. His eyes got as big as saucers, and then it happened.

In what seemed like slow motion, my dad yelled and jumped all at the same time and sent Penny flying across the room.

Horrified I rescued Penny from the floor, held her closely with both hands, and as I was storming back to my room, I looked back at my dad with a look that said, "How COULD you?!"

After that day, our adventures were much quieter. We read books.

See, if Dad had just let us have a dog, he wouldn't have been scared by a little gerbil. Am I right?

His Eyes Always Twinkled

2010-11-11T23:13:00.004-05:00

My original post was going to be a letter from Charlotte. I will probably post Charlotte's letter one day, but this post is more important today.

I got my belly button pierced on a dare.

I was pondering whether or not to actually go and have my belly button pierced and then my mom said, "I'll bet you fifty dollars you won't do it." That was it. That's all it took for me to set a date, go into the tattoo shop, and have my belly button pierced. (And almost pass out immediately afterwards.)

I was prepared for my navel to be sore for days and days after. I was not prepared for was not being able to sit up straight. Sore, I could handle. Needing to lie down flat or die, I could not.

Around the same time that I decided to show the world that getting my belly button pierced was no big deal, my uncle was undergoing chemotherapy. I'll never forget the day he said, "There is a growth, and it is malignant... But I'm going to win. I will beat cancer."

My uncle was a firefighter. He battled burning buildings. He saved people's lives. When he said he would beat cancer, we knew he would.

A few days after my piercing, we went to visit my uncle at his house. He had lost all of his hair, was constantly hooked up to an IV, had a feeding tube, and was the happiest I had ever seen him. I, of course, could not sit up straight because of the voluntary pain I had just put myself through. And, of course, he noticed.

"What is the matter with you," he asked.

"Nothing," I replied.

"She had her belly button pierced," said my aunt. (My uncle's and mom's sister. aka "RAT")

He asked if my dad knew. Nope, I told him. And then it began. He teased me and said he wanted money from me in exchange for his silence. I laughed, but thought, he could actually be serious.

One day, I visited my uncle right before cancer reached his brain. It was the last time we looked at each other in the eyes. He didn't speak much, but he looked at me and gave me a signal with his hand. With a twinkle in his eye, the signal said, "Where is my money?" My response was a smile.

We buried him on a hillside just a few short weeks later and after everyone left, I stayed by his grave, dug a hole in the earth with my bare hand, and buried some hush money. It was my final good-bye to the uncle I loved so dearly.

In the 18 months he had from the time he learned he had cancer until the time he left us, he became a whole new person. The uncle I grew up with annoyed me. He teased me constantly. I thought he didn't love me. In those 18 months, I learned that he teased me because he loved me.

In those 18 months, he learned really how to really show his love, how to live, and how to make peace the hand life had dealt him. To me, he won his battle.

He told us he would beat cancer. And beat cancer he did.

Dear Mendie, I know our situations are different. I know times right now are incredibly tough. But feel peace in knowing that we are here for you and we all love you. Even though it may not seem like it right now, your aunt beat cancer, too. Because really? Cancer never wins.

Much love to you, dear friend.

They don't call me Grace for nothing

2010-11-10T23:08:00.003-05:00

My teammates on my high school basketball team decided one year that every one needed a nickname. Most got cool nicknames like "T-Dawg" or "Lightnin'".

I got "Trip."

Yes, I fall a lot. Or I run into trees while playing tag in the dark. Or I fall out of my chair at work. Or I trip in the movie section at Target. (Those horror DVDs, man, they will get you EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.) I'm not allowed to have a sharp knife in my hands in my mother's presence, and every time I climb a ladder, people around me shout, "Oh my God! Get down!"

When you are as graceful as I am, these minor little incidents leave footprints on your body. OK, fine, they're scars, but I like to think of them as footprints. They help to tell the story of me.

My favorite has been with me for 29 of my 32 years. I remember vividly the day I got it. Actually, I think it's safe to say that this was one of my earliest memories.

I'm not sure if I could have been considered a "good little helper" or just too curious about things for my own good, but this particular day, I was "helping" my mom iron clothes. My first memory is of my mom's voice:

"April, don't touch the ironing board."

Naturally, what did I do the first chance I got when my mom turned her back? I put my hands on the ironing board, and the next thing I remember is PAIN.

The hot iron landed smack on my left hand.

My memory after that is fuzzy. I remember feelings more than anything. The pain I felt. The tears streaming down my face. How scared my mom's voice sounded.

After the wound healed, I had a scar that covered my whole hand and was extremely noticeable. I would get questions about it all the time, but I never was self conscious about it. I loved to tell the story of my scar. It was a battle wound for me.

Now, I know what you're thinking. What a terrible first memory! Right? That is what your thinking? I don't see it as terrible. It helps to tell the story of me. It's smaller now and a bit faded, but every time I look down at my left hand, there it's been for as long as I can remember. And every time I look at it, I smile.

It's one of the first footprints of my life.

"You'll be amazed," is what Dad said...

2010-11-09T22:52:00.005-05:00

I've been battling a serious case of writer's block here recently. I know what's causing it, and maybe I'll share it soon. Or maybe I won't. Until I figure it out, I've decided to do a NoBloPoMo. So. From now until December 9th, I will blog everyday. Some things you may know, some days you may not. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

My family didn't take vacations when I was a kid. We had a camper on a lot at a lake, which is about forty-five minutes from our house, and that is where we spent our summers. I wouldn't trade my childhood summers for anything. (OK, I may trade the women from a nearby lot who always thought I was a boy. But, whatever.)

As my brother and I became teenagers, we started asking if we could go on a real vacation. You know, like ones where you stayed at great places like... the Holiday Inn(with a pool)! Ones where you got to eat out in restaurants every meal.

In the summer of 1996, we convinced my dad to take a road trip. The deal was that if we agreed to go to one place my dad wanted to go, he would take us to Busch Gardens, Williamsburg and then we would drive to the beach. My brother and I thought this was the best deal ever.

Until... my dad decided that he wanted to take back roads from our house, stop at whatever historical sites we could find, and go to the Civil War battlefield in Petersburg, VA. This is where the Battle of the Crater took place. (You may be familiar with this battle if you've ever seen the movie Cold Mountain.)

For DAYS before and then for HOURS in the car. (Timeout: I should mention that the day before our trip, I went to the doctor for strep throat. My mom wanted to cancel the trip, but my dad was so excited about seeing this battlefield that I insisted that I was fine and our trip was still on. I was miserable the whole time. Timein.) Where was I? Oh, right. For days before and then hours during the drive to this battlefield all my brother and I heard was how the Union soldiers dug a tunnel under the Confederate soldiers and blew up the ground right out from underneath the Confederate army, which left this huge crater that could still be seen today.

I admit, I was excited. My brother wouldn't admit, but he was, too. I love history, so to see a huge crater from the Civil War was fascinating to me. My brother was just excited because it involved something being blown up.

Once we were on the battlefield, my brother and I walked ahead of our parents. (We were cool like that.) We saw a sign that marked the path that led to this now crater that, to hear my dad talk, was the size of a small canyon. Even though, all my brother wanted to do was "get to the part where the bomb went off", he humored me and read all of the informational signs.

And then...

We reach the crater.

What we saw was a small little "hole" in the ground. You can't really call it a hole. Because it looked like part of our backyard. I mean, if you didn't have a sign saying, "HERE IT IS!" you would have walked right past it.

My brother leaned towards me and whispered, "Is this it?"

I whispered back, "Shut up. Act excited."

He responded with, "I can't."

After all of that build up, I was disappointed, too. But you know what? I loved our summers at the lake. Those summers were some of the best times of my childhood. That trip,though, was my favorite of all. Not because of the hotels or the restaurants or the things we did. But because, even though I was miserably sick with strep throat, it was the one time in my life that I remember that for five days straight we enjoyed each other, laughed lots every day, and just had fun.

Exposed

2010-10-13T20:16:00.004-04:00

I am beautiful.

I am strong.

I've conquered healthy living.

I am proud of what I have accomplished.

My scars are reminders.

They show how far I've come.

They remind of where I don't want to go back.

My body will never be perfect.

It has curves. And rolls.

And more curves.

And it is lovely.

I can run a 5K if I want

Or climb a mountain with these legs.

My legs take me on bikes rides.

That is magic to me.

I am athletic.

I am brave.

I am my own best friend.

I have learned to love myself.

I am exposed.

My Most Awesome Work Moment Yet

2010-10-06T23:12:00.003-04:00

I've worked for the same company for ten years now. I was hired straight out of college with plans to either move up in the company quickly or move on to something better in life.

Ten years later, I'm still there, and have only moved up a tiny bit. I could spend hours and hours telling you why I'm still in this job I barely tolerate, but we'll save that for another day.

A few weeks ago, I had an email in my inbox from my manager telling me I had been chosen as a creative consultant for a team building project. OK, no. What the email said was a whole lot of big words that were Greek to me, and only after I responded back with, "Huh?" did I find out that I had been chosen as a creative consultant for a team building project.

Today, we had our first meeting for this project. Since the meeting was held three hours away from my office, I joined in via conference call.

The leader of this meeting spent ten minutes explaining why were doing this project and how it would create a better work environment and I could have sworn I heard the words "TPS reports".

And then he says something like all teams such as teams like mine tend to be boring.

WHAT! Who the hell was he calling boring? Obviously he didn't know that I was on this project. And right then, it became one of the most important things in the world to defend my creative mind.

Boring?! Who is he calling boring?! I rattled of an email to my manager's BlackBerry.

After a few more minutes of "blah, blah, blah's" I hear him say that we could break into our teams and brainstorm. My manager then gets on the phone and asks for my ideas.

"First, I want you to tell that guy, I don't appreciate being called boring!", I said.

My manager replied, "Um, April. You just told the whole room that. You're on speaker phone."

Whoops. Well. I guess now he knows. :)

I LOVE ME

2010-10-03T12:28:00.004-04:00

Over at the Sisterhood, we have decided that October is "I LOVE ME" month. We're all taking a pledge to love ourselves because as Christie O. says, "because it all starts with 'me'". She's right. It does. If you want to read and/or take the pledge, go here.

It has been a long and hard journey of learning to love myself. When I got my wake-up call and realized that I needed to lose weight, I had no idea how much my insides needed a wake-up call of their own.

There was always a part of me that I knew was awesome but I just couldn't bring myself to show my awesome to others. I was afraid of what they would think. I cared what they thought. I also got wrapped up in trying to please everyone. I wanted to be the person that could make people proud. I thought that if I didn't make them proud, I would bring shame to those I cared most about. I couldn't stand the thought of being THAT person. What I didn't realize was that in thinking that way, I lost a sense of myself that would make ME proud.

And wasn't that what was most important? Making myself proud?

Because if I couldn't be proud of myself, how could I make anyone else proud? If I couldn't love myself, how could anyone else love me?

I needed to make me happy.

I realized that in order to make myself happy, I had to discover who I really was. I needed to meet and get to know the real me. I had to learn that the real April was someone who I liked. When I realized how much I liked the real April, I began to show her to others. And holy crap! They liked her too.

You could say that on this road to self-discovery, I realized that I truly love who I am. Who I've become. Who I continue to become.

I know I will have moments of weakness. We all do. And that's okay. Because we'll just pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and love ourselves all over again.

Yep. This month, I'm taking the pledge. Will you?

Look Out Sugarland!

2010-09-29T19:35:00.007-04:00

My nephew has declared "Stuck Like Glue" HIS song! He does it pretty well, don't you think?

Turning Point

2010-09-25T12:33:00.004-04:00

It's dark in here. Cold. Damp. I feel lost. Where am I? Where is the light? I can't really see. I feel claustrophobic. Am I alone? I feel alone. I don't want to be alone. If I call for help, will someone answer? Someone, please answer. I want to be found. I want so badly to be found.

That was my brain not all that long ago. Five years ago, maybe? My brain was calling out to me and I wasn't listening to it. I told myself I was great. But I wasn't.

I was lost.

Happiness is hard for me. It has been for a long time. And it isn't that I wanted to be unhappy. Because who wants that? There were reasons I was unhappy. Some of those reasons I didn't even know about. Or understand.

I didn't love myself. I didn't even like myself. I hid some of the best parts of me.

I let people take advantage of because I didn't have the strength within me to stand up for myself.

And I blamed myself for things that weren't my fault. Things that could never be my fault.

I didn't want to let anyone down. And what I didn't realize was that I was only letting myself down. I was failing at life. I was barely surviving.

The turning point didn't come in one moment. Or a few moments. It came slowly over a long period of time. Years, in fact. And while the journey here has been tough, it's been amazing. I sometimes take a step back and see how far I've come. How I've embraced who I am. How I love the weirdest things and that's okay because it's what makes me me.

My name is April. I was born in June. I am a nerd. I love science, math, and science-fiction. I will tell you with a straight face that I am half Vulcan. Aliens are my thing. I love video games. I'm a Gryffindor. My favorite color is orange. I am a tomboy and love all sports. I have a great big sensitive heart. And that's not a bad thing. I love to read and I love art and I love to play at writing. Animals are my love and yes, I would totally put a giraffe in my back yard if I could. (And a stargate.)

The new me embraces all of those things. Even if I sometimes contradict myself on these things.

I love this new me. And life is good. And I am happy.

Bringing Kelci Home

2010-09-21T19:30:00.004-04:00

I met Kelci when she was 4 weeks old. I went to her breeder's house and saw 8 black German Shepherd pups covering the green of the yard. The breeder had given me pick of the litter but said, "I already know which one you'll choose."

I sat in the grass in front of the smallest pup. She was so different than the others. Not only was she the runt but also, she had a silver fur collar and was lighter than the her brothers and sisters. I made certain that I spoke to each of the pups, but when I picked her up, looked her in the face, and smelled her puppy breath, I was hers.

"This is the one I want," I said.

The breeder replied, "I know."

I named her Kelci.

A few weeks later, the breeder drove to my apartment to deliver my pup. Kelci was a tiny 6 pounds and scared to death. I took her into my arms, kissed her nose, and told her we were going to have so much fun. Afterall, she had a new sister, Bayleigh to play with.

As I walked the three flights to the apartment I lived in at that time, I clearly hadn't taken my cocker spaniel's feelings into consideration. I thought, this will be great! Who doesn't love a new puppy?!

Bayleigh, that's who.

I walked into my living room all excited and set Kelci in front of Bayleigh. Bayleigh looked at me and said, "What the hell is this thing?! Get it away from me!" Uh-oh. Not a good sign.

But I was determined. We all three played for the rest of the evening. At bedtime, I went through my routine, and put Bayleigh into her crate (Bayleigh + Eating Mum's Books = Bayleigh Sleeps In Crate Until She Could Be Trusted). I fixed another crate for Kelci, filled it with stuffed animals and a clock, tucked her in, and turned off the lights. And exactly three minutes later, Kelci started whining. And whining. And whining. And whining.

And whining.

Okay, what was I going to do now? I KNOW, I thought. I'll put her and Bayleigh together! That is a fantastic idea! So, I put them in the crate together, turned the light off, and waited. All was quiet! This was going to work!

Twenty minutes later, I turned on the light. Kelci was snuggled at Bayleigh's feet, fast asleep. (I think she was smiling even.) Bayleigh was sitting straight up, staring at me with a look that clearly said, "I hate you."

Kelci slept with me from then on.

Moral to the story: Just put the pup in the bed with you. The "I hate you" look is not worth it.

A Really Great Basketball Moment

2010-09-19T20:40:00.003-04:00

I walked into our high school's gym on my first day of basketball practice knowing that this was going to be a great season. All I wanted was to be captain. I was the only returning senior, my teammates all seemed to like and look up to me, so it was in the bag, right?

Wrong.

By the end of our second practice of the day, two juniors were named co-captains and my world was crushed. Looking back at it now, I'm not sure why that was so important to me but it was and all I knew in that moment was that I didn't make it. (Of course, me being me, I felt like I had failed.)

That first day of practice was just the beginning of a season of hell for me. I had to do every sprint drill at least twice because I always finished last. I was yelled at, told in front of the whole team that I had no athletic ability, and made fun of for being so clumsy. All by my coach.

Yet, I was always the first on the court and the last one to leave. I loved it. I loved the game. I loved watching the game and breaking it down in my head. I loved getting the chance to get in the game. I loved my team.

Those were some of the best moments in high school for me. I looked forward to every practice and every game because these girls were my friends. They were, for me, my sisters. My senior year, I became the big sister, and maybe that's why I wanted to be captain. I wanted everyone to know I was the big sister.

What I didn't know was I didn't need to be captain for every one to know that.

The last home game of the season was senior night. Out of the kindness of her blackened heart, my coach decided to let me start. Before the game, I was to walk while holding my parents' hands to center court. I was at the end of our bench talking with my parents when all of a sudden I realized that the whole gym was chanting.

I got chills on my arms when I realized that they were chanting my name.

My teammates (and all of the cheerleaders) had lined up in two lines on each side of me. It took me ten minutes to get through those lines because I hugged and/or high fived all of them. When I hugged the last person, I looked up and every single person in the gym was standing and clapping. For me.

They gave the clumsy, slow, no talent, short, sometimes playing point guard a standing ovation.

That had to be the greatest night of my basketball career. (OK, no. I'm lying. The best night of my basketball career was a rec club game. I scored twelve points in a championship game, and my varsity coach asked my rec club coach how did he get me to play so well. His answer was, "I don't yell at her.")

I think about that night now and I always smile. I can close my eyes and replay ever single step I took. I see their faces and just how proud they all were of me. And it also makes me wonder why it's so damn hard for me to just be proud of myself.

I'm really going to work on that. If a couple hundred people could be proud of me for simply showing up to represent my school mostly by riding the bench, then certainly I can be proud of myself more.

Yep. I really think I can. No wait! I really think I am.

Yeah, that's better.

Finding Me

2010-09-04T15:06:00.004-04:00

I cannot remember a time in my life when I wasn't drawing or painting. Every single notebook from every single class in school is filled with silly little sketches. Sketches helped me focus on what the teachers were saying. I took a few art classes in junior high school, but most of my art comes from seeing something in my head and putting it onto paper or canvas. I used to love watching Bob Ross paint. I always would think, I can do that!

I remember vividly the day I discovered the awesomeness that is soft pastels. One day I was walking down the art supply aisle in Michaels' and on a whim bought a set and a new sketch pad. When I sat down to sketch with them, magic just happened. I fell in love. I knew I could make great things with this medium. I was lost in my own little world. I had to be reminded that I needed to do things like... eat. It was amazing.

I had this itch to create art all the time. I wanted to do something with my art. I started painting again. (I take painting by spells.) Someone I worked with convinced me I should do a show and have it at her house. The thought of creating art, like, all the time was scary but exciting to me. Maybe my co-worker was right and I could do this.

That show never happened. My whole world changed and I became lost in a world where I wasn't happy. Life was hard and scary and instead of using my art as an escape, I almost abandoned it. I still would sketch on scrap paper because that's how I think, but I would only paint in tiny moments of sort of happiness or if someone asked me to paint/draw something for them. I convinced myself that my art sucked. I was so painfully unhappy that I couldn't see how special I was or how special my gift was.

Slowly, as I worked my way out of the dark cloud that surrounded me, I found that I enjoyed painting again. Yet, I still hadn't rediscovered the itch to create. I used my art as the place I escaped to when I felt life trying to pull me back into that dark cloud. It was my happy place and for a few years now, that's been just fine with me.

Today, I was in the shower thinking thinking thinking and something hit me. I have the itch to create art again. Not as an escape, but because I have a gift. Why am I hiding my gift? Why don't I create more? I should create more. I want to create more. I will create more. And for the first time in a really long time, I'm excited about it. I'm really starting to feel like me. Hello, me!

Yesterday's Fun Times

2010-08-20T12:02:00.006-04:00

Have you ever watched the stand up routine done by Bill Cosby called Bill Cosby: Himself? Please tell me you have. If you haven't, turn away from the computer, go find it, watch it, then come back. I'll wait.

Oh, good. You're back. Now, you remember when Mr. Cosby talked about being on a flight with the little boy named Jeffrey? Jeffrey was four years old, and the reason Mr. Cosby remembered Jeffrey's name is because Jeffrey's mother said "Jeffrey" the whole flight. The kid sounded like he was a handful. (And that's probably being nice about it.)

Yesterday, I boarded the plane for my first flight of the day. It was a puddle jumper, and my seat was all the way in the back. I thought I was very lucky because I had the row to myself, and it appeared that the row in front of me was going to be empty as well. Score!

I took my book back out and continued to read while I waited for the flight to finish boarding. And at the very last second, SHE arrived.

The female version of Bill Cosby's Jeffrey.

She, along with her mother, plopped herself down right in front of me. My first thought was, oh what a cute little girl! Then I had my first heart attack. POW! My heart slammed against my chest as I readied to hit the deck to protect myself from whatever gunfire had gone off.

Except that it wasn't gunfire. The little girl discovered that if you pushed down the window cover REALLY HARD, it would make the 32 year old behind you think shots were being fired, and well, you know, that's great fun. (Just so you know, this happened 12 times while I was on that plane. Good times.)

I wish I could tell you the little girl's name, but all her mom called her was, "Sugar" in a really high pitched squealy voice. (Stick a fork in my eye, please.)

Sugar decided that she wanted a drink of water right when the plane was getting ready for take-off. She screamed and she cried and she unbuckled herself all while her mother squealed, "Please, Sugar, sit down and buckle up. Please? Can you do that for mommy?"

It took the flight attendant walking back, looking at that little terror and firmly saying, "I need you to SIT DOWN and BUCKLE UP." I could have kissed her.

***

I knew the second flight of the day wasn't going to get any better when this girl sat down next to me, looked back at her friend (who was behind me) and exclaimed, "OH THANK GAWD! That isn't my ex. He's CUUUUTE though!" Then she burst into a fit of giggles. It wasn't long until her friend Miss *cough* *cough* *cough* joined us in our row. (If I get sick, I'm hunting her down and punching her in the neck.)

They made it incredibly hard for me to read. I heard all about how Miss Giggle McGiggly had three lovers, and one was leaving his wife for her, but she didn't want him to. And he wanted to get her pregnant, but she didn't want that either.

I also know there were seven cute guys on that flight. I know because they counted. Then Miss Coughbox leaned to Miss McGiggly and "whispered", "How can she just sit there and READ like that?" (Well I could read much better if you would shut up. And yes, I heard you say that.)

I finally put my earbuds in and pretended to sleep through all of their giggles and chatter and crazy arm movements while they were telling their stories.

All the while thinking, I'm so blogging about this.

And now I'm in Denver, and that's just awesome.

An Election Day Funny - repost

2010-08-13T20:57:00.002-04:00

As I was driving to the grocery store this evening, a skunk crossed the street in front of me. (Is that bad luck? I mean, it wasn't a cat, but still. Not that cats are bad luck or anything. Just wondering.) And it reminded me of this story. Let laughing commence...

There was just something about this election that I knew was going to be special. And as tired as I was getting of listening to debates and rally speeches, I was still excited for Election Day. Little did I know, that no other Election Day will ever be this good for me ever again. And no folks, I'm not talking about who won or lost here.

I got up early that morning so I could go vote. Getting up early is hard for me anyway, but add me being out of coffee and it was raining to the mix, and you have one grouchy person. So I get to Fire Station #13 (this is where I vote) and the line was-well it was long. And not only that, I got in front of two fellas that would not shut up.

Then the line starts to move. And it's moving fairly quickly. This is great! I may get coffee before I die from my brain turning to mush yet. I'm literally feet from the door-well quite a few feet, but I was close, and the line stops. Dangit. And then...

I look up to the house that's next door. It has the most fabulous front yard, oh and look, there's a nice kitty-wait. Is that? It is. It's a skunk and he's scurrying his way on down towards us.

Me to the talkers: "Fellas, we're about to have company." I point to Pepe'.
One of the talkers: "Oh, shit."

We watched that skunk scurry all the way right to us. He is was literally 10 feet away from me before he ever realized that something wasn't right about his morning walk. He jumps. Two hundred people gasp. One of the talkers whispers, "No body move." I hear a woman somewhere in front of me take off running screaming something about holding her place in line. (What part of "no body move" did she not get?) He decides we are not going to hurt him, so he starts walking back up the yard a bit, then turns right (all he wanted to do was get to the field across the street), fifty people bolt, he freezes. A minute later, he's headed back up the yard. He decides to try again. Fifty people bolt. He freezes. He comes back down to where I was. Just looks at us as if to say, "Make my day." Finally, he scurries on back up the yard and into the woods.

I'll always wonder who he voted for.

Never Run Out of the Unscented Kind

2010-07-26T17:44:00.003-04:00

Attention dude readers and/or those that possibly embarrass easily! The following post is about things we girls call that time of the month and products used during that time of the month. Consider yourself warned.

As a kid, I had horrible allergies. You name it, I was most likely allergic to it. This included all things scented. As I got older, I became immune to most of my allergies, including the "all things scented" ones. Or so I thought.

A few months ago, I grabbed a box of tampons not knowing that I had grabbed the scented ones. (Lesson 1: Read the box before purchase.) Once I realized they were scented, I didn't think TOO much about it, and things were okay.

The following month, that pesky little visitor reared her ugly head at my door, and I again used the scented tampons. I realized, then, that the scented tampons, um, bothered me, I guess is the best way to put it. So, I headed to Target, got unscented ones, and all was well again. I put the scented ones away instead of throwing them away because, ya know, I paid good money for those things and they shouldn't go to waste. SOMEONE may need them.

Enter today. I was going about my morning routine of stumbling out of the bed, to the shower, and stumbling out of the shower (I really should get up earlier and drink coffee before I shower.), and then I realized that I was out of the unscented tampons. All I had were the scented ones.

Imagine this. I'm standing in my bathroom trying to decide whether to chance the scented ones just long enough to get to work and get one of those horrible ones from the bathroom, OR chance an accident. Yes, I actually thought about chancing it with nothing. That's how uncomfortable these things make me. I decided to chance it with the scented ones.

Have you ever witnessed, Flo angry? I mean sure, she gets pouty and grumpy and gives you cramps and bloats you and makes you want chocolate so bad that if you don't get chocolate, heads will roll, but have you seriously really seen her angry?

People, she breathed fired today. Flo decided that since I was going to ignore her refusal of scented tampons, she was going to give me hell. She whined. She bitched. She moaned. And she breathed fire on me ALL DAY LONG. I'm still in pain.

How much do you want to bet I never run out of unscented tampons again?

Dear Flo, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'll give you chocolate.

My Life Began at Thirty

2010-07-14T17:31:00.002-04:00

When I talk to people and hear about their past experiences, such as, getting married, having kids, taking vacations, traveling through Europe, experiencing the world, it sometimes makes me sad. Or not really sad, just a little bit out of sorts, I guess is a better way to put it. It makes me realize just how much I HAVEN'T done in my life.

I've never been out of the country. I've only been to a handful of states. Hang on-17 states to be exact. And if I'm being totally honest, I've spent most of my life sitting right here in this city.

If I let myself think on this too much, I could very easily get down on myself for being the scared little girl that I was for so very long. For letting others manipulate what I do and how I think and feel. Sometimes I still do get down on myself.

I think about those years where I let others have such power over me. I used to think myself as weak, but now I realize that I was lost and just begging to be found. I feel very lucky that I didn't let those people truly find me.

I used to regret decisions that I made. I would have so much guilt inside of me that I would literally make myself sick.

I realize now that I was on a path to self discovery. And along the way, while others that I cherish so deeply in my heart now were finding me, I was also finding myself. I realized how very cool the person I found was. (Okay, well, she's a bit oversensitive, but we can't be perfect, right?)

Choices I make now are rarely seen as a regret or laced with guilt. No matter the outcome, every experience in my life happens for a reason. Good or bad, things happen and experiencing these things in life is how we grow. How we learn more about ourselves.

Recently, I took my two year old nephew to the grocery store, and it reminded me of how new to this world he still is. Every day, he learns, and experiences something new and exudes such joy at these new experiences. It's amazing to witness.

Then, I realized that I'm not so different than my nephew. Since discovering who I am, I feel like I'm a brand new person. Just like him. I feel like my life began at thirty. I see the world through such wide eyes, and while some things are extremely disappointing, I realize what a wonderful planet we live on. (We should take better care of it.) How beautiful people can be.

I'm not in the middle of my life. I'm in the beginning of my life, and it's a wonderful place to be.

Is THIS What Happens at 32?!

2010-07-09T20:14:00.003-04:00

I realize that there comes a time as you get older when things just happen. You get more hairs on your chin, staying up late is like 11 p.m., and OMG, did I tell you guys that I found a GREY HAIR yesterday? (Pulled that sucker out.) There is one thing though, that I've decided just magically happens when you turn 32. (Please don't disagree with me on this. It'll kill my day. Seriously.)

I KNOW I used to bitch and moan about always being carded for alcohol. I know that even in my 20's I looked 12, and carding me was necessary, and I SHOULDN'T have been offended. I stupidly was. And I get that as you get older or frequent certain places where you know the waiters/bartenders, carding also isn't going to happen as much. But I swear to you, it's like I turned 32, and I haven't been carded since. (Okay, maybe I've been carded once, but still.)

What the hell? Do I just magically all of a sudden LOOK old? I get that 32 may be ancient when you're 15 and working in a grocery store, but come on, make a woman's day, will you?

I'm just going to be honest, if you're checking me out, and don't ask me for my ID, I'm going to give it to you anyway. And if I'm in the self check out, I may just waive my ID until you come check it.

I seriously had no idea that this would bother me. People warned me. I laughed at them. And here I am offended every time I don't get carded. So, there's a lesson here for all you youngins out there. Don't be offended when you get carded. You're going to turn 32 one day, too.

Now, if you'll excuse me...I'ma go have a beer. *sniff*

Not for Dad's Eyes. Or Mom's.

2010-06-18T21:04:00.003-04:00

Aherm...note to any dude readers or those who may embarrass easily, DO NOT read further. Just know that my dad may or may not have seen something that was not for his eyes. The End. But if you're cool with all things that we'll term, bedroom fun, then please read on. -Management

People, I am a 32 year old single woman. Have been for many, many years now. (Like forever.) I enjoy my single life, yet, I am still a woman, and I still have certain, um, needs that must be satisfied. While I haven't gone too crazy with it, I do have a few certain, um, toys, that I have acquired. There. I said it.

Being a single woman LIVING ALONE, I don't always feel the need to put things away in my bedroom. I mean, really. Who is going to be in there? Right? Right. So, one of said toys may or may not have been laying out in plain sight. Yeah.

So, today I get a text message from my mom saying that they were at my house working on the air conditioning. Up until now, I've been able to deal with the heat. Now that it's getting very HOT and very HUMID, I want to be comfortable. So, long story short, my air conditioning wasn't working, and my dad was fixing it. I knew this would be happening. I did not know this would be happening today.

My mom told me that the air was fixed and did I want it left on? Yes, I thought, wait, no. That would mean that they would have to go into my bedroom to close the windows. Bad idea. So, I told her no, I would turn it on later and that's that.

Ten minutes later, I get another text that they were leaving it on and they shut the windows in my bedroom. Shit. I responded with, I told you I didn't want it on. She asked why. I said because there were things in my bedroom that I didn't want them to see. My mom still wasn't getting it. UGH. She said, that she didn't see anything and that she shut the window by my closet and my dad shut the window above my bed.

Great, mom, I said. That means Dad's the one that saw my bedroom toy. Awesome.

She insisted that he would have told her if he saw something and that he probably wouldn't know what it was anyway. RIGHT. Sure. I believe that.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Um, yeah.

At first I was mortified. Now, I'm thinking that maybe they'll listen to me when I ask them to or not to do something.

Summer Colds Suck, But 32 Ain't So Bad

2010-06-17T20:53:00.006-04:00

My friends, Jessie and Rachael and I have had our beach trip to the Outer Banks, North Carolina planned for months and months. And better yet, it was going to be on my birthday! Yay!

Last Wednesday, I was headed to Bristol, VA to meet Brooke for lunch. On the way down, I felt my throat getting scratchy, but all the signs pointed to it being just allergies. So, I didn't worry too much.

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was in a full on summer cold. I dunno why, but the only time I ever get a cold is in the summer. It SUCKS. Big time. But I powered through it mostly, and I'm thankful that Jessie and Rachael gave me the orders to take it easy a couple of times.

Tuesday was my birthday. I had grand plans of having this super great post about how awesome I am (LOL), and then I had a major computer scare. I won't say what unless those bastards still are keeping an eye on my PC...okay, okay, I know that's probably not the case but I'm telling you, I was ready to throw shit last Friday night.

So, instead, you're getting a post birthday post...

I was kind of dreading the big 3 - 2. I'm not sure why, but it just felt like it was going to be different. I guess, now, I'm firmly into my 30's and I can feel that my body just isn't quite as young as it used to be. It isn't a bad thing. Just different.

During my 31st year, I met many, many of you fine folks, and let me tell you, you are some fabulous people. And even if I haven't met you in person yet, you're still fabulous and I love the promise of one day having that "real life" meeting.

When I think of my life now, I think of the picture above. I took it while we were waiting on a table at a great seafood restaurant in the OBX. (I had this feeling several times while I was at the beach, and this is the motto of people in the OBX, and when you're down there, you can totally see why.) While waiting on our table and watching the sun set, all I could think was yeah, I've had some stressful times here lately, but when I think about it? Think about all of you, my family, and where I'm headed in life, all I can think is.... life is good.

So, let's have it 32.

**sorry there are no links. I just can't get it to work right now, and I may hafta throw things if I mess with it too much**

A Weekend with the Lil Dude

2010-05-26T20:30:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, my mom and I had my nephew for a couple of days. Since he is accustomed to sleeping with his mama, sleeping in his bed at my mom's house is no longer an option.

SO.

I crawled into bed with the already sleeping two year old (who insisted on having his back scratched before falling asleep. I have NO CLUE where he got that from. See my halo?), and he was still for all of 40 mins. I got slapped, punched, kicked, snuggled with, and pushed to the edge of the bed. I think I slept maybe an hour the entire night.

The next morning, my mom opened the bedroom door, he bound out all happy and in a great mood, and I stayed in bed hoping to sleep a bit. Instead, all I heard was shouts of, "Apul! Apul, where are you?" It was too cute to ignore, so I stumbled to the kitchen.

I love to listen to him talk now. I know those of you with toddlers are used to this, but it amazes me that you can actually hold somewhat of a conversation with him.

We were in the car on the way to visit my grandparents. I leaned my head against the window and declared, "I'm sleepy." He said, "I seepy too. I need nap." AWWWW. Little snot.

My uncle handed him a 5 dollar bill (WTH? I got a dollar mostly when I was a kid.). I told him to say thank you and he did. Then when we were leaving, without being prompted, he said in his two year old speak, "Thank you for money!" I was so proud!

Man, I love that boy.

I Drove Two Hours For Lunch

2010-05-11T20:25:00.005-04:00

I woke up this morning, and I jumped in the shower (okay, fine, I stumbled), got ready, and headed out the door. Except that today, I didn't head to work. Nope. I took the day off and drove north for two hours. For lunch.

Thea and I live within spittin' distance of each other(okay, not really, but it is within driving distance!), so we decided to meet up for lunch. I knew I was going to have a fun lunch when she emailed me and said, "Lucky you! You get to meet Emma!"

I honestly love meeting the kids I read about. There's something a little surreal about seeing these magnificent little people that I read cute and hilarious stories about.

Let me just say, I love Emma. When Thea introduced her as shy, Emma looked up and said, "I'm not shy!" I think she has to be the most energetic 5 year old I have ever met. I wish I had her energy. Thea asked me if I liked Emma's mismatched hair consisting of a braid and a pigtail, and then said something like, "I didn't care. She's dressed, so I was happy." And I'm quite certain that at one point, when a battle of the wills was taking place between mother and child, that a full conversation happened telepathically. I'm bummed I missed out on it. (Mother won, by the way.)

Here lately, work has sucked and been stressful and had me crying at my desk. Today was a much needed break away. Thea and I had terrific conversation, and lunch would not have been complete without Emma being there. Thea and Emma, thank you!!

Some people may think we're insane to have driven such a long way for lunch, but I learned a long time ago that life is about enjoying it. If that means driving a bit to spend a few hours with a terrific friend, then I will happily drive. I look forward to lunch with Thea and Emma again!!

Anyone else up for driving a couple of hours for lunch? I'm in!

They Say I Have Her Feet...

2010-05-02T16:36:00.003-04:00

Today would have been my great-grandmother's 102nd birthday. She passed away 12 years ago from that horrible disease that robbed her of her mind.

I can't imagine not knowing who I am or who the people around me are. I'm certain that she had to be scared. In fact, I know she was because the last time I visited her, all memories of me were forgotten, and my mere presence caused her to be so uneasy, that I left her room and went and sat in the car.

My family now looks back at a few of the things that happened and now we can laugh. Time has allowed us to see the humor in some of the situations.

Like the time she tried to hit my mom over the head with a nut bowl and called her a little shit. I had no clue my great-grandmother, who went to church every Sunday, even knew those types of words.

Or the day that she forgot me completely, she looked at me through narrowed eyes, and said to everyone else in the room, "You have to be careful with that one. She's a sneaky one, she is."

Alzheimer's is a horrible, horrible disease that is hard on everyone close to the situation, and those are times I will never forget, but I have found now that her things, things she left to us are what gives me comfort.

Like her hens and chicks that sit by my feet on my front porch right now. Or the start from her lilac bush that is in my back yard. Or the few little knick knacks that I got when we cleaned out her house.

I think my most favorite of all is the fact that a few years after her death, my grandmother and I were swinging on the big front porch swing she has, and she happened to glance down at my feet. She said, "You know you have Mom's feet. Her big toe sat slightly under her 2nd toe just like yours does."

And I looked at her and smiled.

Embrace Life

2010-04-16T00:10:00.003-04:00

In high school, one of the most important things to me was basketball. I loved playing the game, loved figuring out how to win the game, and more than anything, I loved being a part of the team and my teammates. I have such fond memories of my teammates. We had fun. They are a big part of what made me NOT hate high school.

Yesterday, I got word that one of those teammates had passed away.

She graduated three years after me and was a couple inches shorter than me but five thousand times faster than me. She was a true athlete. Every thing that I had to work extra hard for came naturally to her. I always admired that about her.

We ended up attending the same college, but while she played college basketball, I didn't. I can remember being so happy that one (as well as a few others) of my old teammates were on my college's squad.

More recently, we both worked in our downtown area and would see each other from time to time. We always made time to say hi and sometimes talk about the "good ol' days".

Yesterday, her passing reminded me how short life is. How much we should embrace the time we have now, and to follow our hearts. And in the next several months, that's exactly what I plan on doing. Now more than ever, I am even more aware and thankful that I have made the decision to do just that.

Please don't give your condolences to me, but think of her family. They need your thoughts right now. I'm quite happy with my memories of her, and the time we had playing basketball together. It was a pleasure and honor to know her. And my wishes for all of you out there is to take a look at those around you and embrace them.

Life is short. Live life and love it.

Moments

2010-04-12T21:02:00.006-04:00

Melissa wrote a great post that reminded me of this quotation:

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

So, here are a few moments that have taken my breath away...

1. The day my nephew was born. I'm not sure I knew what true love was until the day my brother gently placed his son in my arms. I looked down and the sleeping bundle of blankets, and he sighed. Yeah, I was lost to him right then and there. Even though I know this is something parents like to do, I had to unbundle him and check out all of his fingers and his toes. He may have only weighed 4lbs 9oz, but the love he showed me that day weighed more than the world.

2. My last home game of high school basketball. I was the only senior on the team, struggled with the coach who proudly announced that I had no athletic ability right in front of the team, was not allowed to be captain by that same coach, and I knew that was one of the last competitive games of basketball I'd ever play. My team started chanting my name as I walked across the court with my parents, and every single fan gave me a standing ovation (even the visiting fans). Writing about it still gives me chills. (BTW, I got most improved player that year as voted by my team. So THERE you mean coach you.)

3. Despite my love for Virginia Tech, I did not go to Virginia Tech. I was bribed by Jessie to give a Virginia Tech tailgate a try. The moment I stepped onto campus, I fell for the beauty of the campus and the love that those people had for their school. I'm proud to say that I'm an honorary Hokie. ;o)

4. Joining the blogging world and being accepted and loved and friended by so many of you amazing people. (Yes, that's not ONE moment or day. I don't care. It's my post.)

5. I'm going to have to agree with Melissa on climbing the summit. It was 1.5 miles straight up and there were times that we had to stop and times that I was worried that Melissa would hate me for taking her there and times that it took both me and Melissa to get Kelci up to the next level. (We're not going to mention the one time Kelci just about pulled me down the mountain.) The hike sucked, but to reach the top felt so amazing. It was a fantastic day.

6. I cannot end this post without mentioning Charlotte. My mom and I were just talking about this yesterday. The day we brought her home was THE BEST. We had this brand new puppy, and she slept in my mom's arms while I drove us back home and it was just meant to be. She was the best.dog.ever.

Why don't you share with me and Melissa some of YOUR favorite moments?

Her Blessing

2010-04-07T22:17:00.002-04:00

The one person that I've worried most about hurting in my thoughts and plans of moving is my mom. My mom and I are close. We love to go to antique malls, go to lunch, shop...you name it, we've done it. Sometimes she's my "go-to" gal when no one else is available. I know she loves it, and the thought of leaving her kind of breaks my heart. So, today, when the subject of moving came up, I got a little nervous.

Things at work have change recently. The details are unimportant, and honestly, I think that this is a sign that I need to get my ass in gear. There was a time that I needed to just sit tight because I was in no mental state to try to find something new. But now, things are such that I just don't know how long I can stand going to work every single day. I love my friends at work, and my manager is great, but I know myself enough to know that I need a change.

So, I said to my mom, "I just don't know how I'm going to be able to stand going into that place every day."

Her reply was, "then don't."

That sparked a discussion about moving. And she said, "I've lived my life. It's time that you've live yours."

We talked about visits to each other, where I would go, what kind of job I would look for, and getting my house ready to sell, and it all seems so real now. And instead of having this nagging pain inside of my heart that is worried if my mom is going to be okay, I'm excited to begin this new chapter of my life.

And it's because I have her blessing.

Time to Fly

2010-04-06T21:50:00.000-04:00

Tonight, a segment on the Biggest Loser really hit home. There is a father/daughter team who is very close. The daughter is 24, but obviously still very much under her father's wing. The whole segment was about how the daughter needed to start living her life for her. How she was strong enough to do so, AND how she needed to tell her dad that she was ready to do this.

I can relate to her SO MUCH.

I realized at some point, that I have relied a lot on my parents. I stayed under my parents' wings a lot longer that most people did. There was a time that I had to. I needed them. I had no one else. Or I felt like I had no one else.

Once I felt like I could spread my wings a bit, I was afraid to disappoint my parents. I felt like they need me. And while, I know that they would support me, the thought of hurting them killed me. It still does. And I've stayed put.

Recently, some things in my life, especially on the job front, have made me realize that my future most likely means leaving this beautiful valley that I was born and raised in, the place that I've always called home.

And while I'm nervous and scared about it, I'm also excited. I can hear other places calling my name. I love that a new adventure is just waiting on me. I've slowly been getting my parents used to this idea. (And if I'm being honest, me as well.) This change won't happen overnight because I have some things here to get in order and to take care of before I can leave. I know that my parents will be sad and will miss me (as I will them), they just want me to be happy, and this will always be home. And for the first time, I know they will be okay. We all will.

It's time I spread my wings, and I can't wait to fly.

Pressure

2010-03-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

There once was a little girl who had two loving parents and a brother. Her parents never abused her. They did the best they could to provide for her and her brother. The four of them had really good times and built great memories together.

However, the little girl's father was very hard on her. He never meant it in anyway but to try to raise the little girl into being the best woman she could possibly be. You see, he had a hard childhood with a very poor example as a father, and while that may not excuse the fact that he was hard on his daughter, it was the reason for it. It was the only way he knew how to parent.

He used to tell the little girl that even if you think you've done your best, you can always do better or find a way to improve. That stuck with the little girl so much that for a long time, she felt bad if she brought home a "B" on her report card. She was always the first one at basketball practice and the last one to leave, even when her chances of playing in a game were slim. Anything else would have made her feel like a failure.

As a result, the girl grew into a woman who was extremely hard on herself. She was always afraid to disappoint those she cared most about. Even if it was something little. She did eventually see how self-destructive her ways were, but after a lifetime of feeling such pressure from not only her father, but also from herself, it was a very hard habit to break. In fact, she still struggles with it. She finds herself apologizing even when she doesn't need to or panicking over little things.

She realizes it's hard for people to understand it. Just snap out of it, some say. But she can't just snap out of it. She's stuck. She doesn't sleep, can't focus, her head hurts, her heart hurts. She knows that it's bad and she shouldn't do this, and that just creates more pressure.

Why can't she just let it go? Why can't she just relax? Let it go? Know that everything will work out? God, this hurts, why do I do this to myself? Three nights without sleep and I can't think. Is it dinner time? When did it get dark out? How do I turn my brain off...

Yes, that woman is me. I admit this is an extreme case of what I sometimes go through, and they do happen less often than they used to because I have people in my life now that really help me keep the calm. Most days.

I don't blame my dad for being hard on me. Do I wish he would have realized what he was doing and changed it? Sure, but I'm not angry at how he raised me. How can I be angry with him for his flaws when I have my own?

I'm not sure that I'll ever not be hard on myself. It's like it's deep inside of my brain, and while it doesn't surface as much as it used to, it still surfaces. But I know that I have people, friends, that will pull me out of it, that will hold my hand while I sleep if I need it. They help me see the light.

Because of them, the pressure isn't as bad.

You Capture: Kisses

2010-02-17T20:43:00.005-05:00

Grandma and Clay kisses...PRICELESS.

To see more Kisses, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry!

Today

2010-02-15T11:35:00.004-05:00

Today is my brother's 28th birthday. I did not get him a gift, did not send him a card, nor will I be calling him to wish him a happy day.

I've thought long and hard about this post. Should I write it? Should I not? I kind of feel like I'm airing my family's dirty laundry, but I realize now that this post is more about me and my feelings, and isn't that what this blog is about? What it's for?

I've mentioned before how my brother and I cannot seem to get along. Since we were teenagers, it's like we've always been at odds about something. Then a little over a year ago, something happened, and while I don't want to go into the exact details (some of you already know what happened anyway), let's just say that my brother broke my trust in the worst way possible. I trusted that he was the one man that would NEVER hurt me, and he did. To my brother, the alcohol did it. To me, whether alcohol was involved or not, he is the one that hurt me. He is the one who had such anger in his eyes.

In the past year, I've done the best I could to tolerate being around him. For our family's sake. Then a few weeks ago, the straw was broken. I was accused of "questioning my brother's parenting skills" and yelled at and that HE couldn't stand to be around ME. First, let me say, I wasn't questioning skills. I was simply stating a fact about two year olds in general, and the fact that I've been helping take care of little kids since I was 13 qualifies me to make that general statement, I believe. But, maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut.

I know that many of you will think or even say that life is too short. I should forgive him and try to mend fences. While I work every day to try to find forgiveness, the fence isn't merely broken. It's been burned to pieces. Until my brother can learn that he needs to accept responsibility for his actions instead of blaming it on someone else or something else, I cannot waste anymore energy on him or be around him. I know this hurts my family, and for that I'm truly sorry. But I have to take care of me. I have to try to work towards forgiving him, not for his sake but for my own.

I never thought I would be in this position. Not speaking to my brother or trusting him. I realize that I probably haven't been the best of sisters in our lives, and I admit that now, but I refuse to take full responsibility for our problems. And the fact that he can't seem to admit or accept responsibility makes forgiveness that much harder. It makes me feel like I'm not good enough or important enough to him. And really, I guess I'm not.

I could be down today or sulky or sad that today is my brother's birthday and we aren't speaking. I love my brother, but I just can't be around him right now. And that kills me. It really does. But I'm not going to be down. I'm not going to allow myself or give him that control of my life. Instead, I'm going to go to a movie with friends, I'm going to maybe get some candy at that movie. I'm going to celebrate this day because today is the day that my baby brother was born and even though I told my dad to take him back because I asked God for a sister (hey. I was four.), we were great friends for a long time. I'm going to celebrate this day because I have so many people in my life that do care, that do think I'm good enough. I'm going to celebrate this day because today is beautiful (even though it's snowing). And life is good.

Me On This Winter

2010-02-11T23:31:00.003-05:00

A friend sent this to me today, and I'm sure most of you on the east coast get this and may feel the same way. (Or if you just hate snow.) The first snow was great, the rest can suck it. But this made me laugh, and I hope you enjoy it too.

Diary of a Snow Shoveler

December 8: 6:00 PM.

It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!

December 9:

We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had. Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.

December 12:

The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment. My neighbor tells me not to worry, we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man I'm glad he's our neighbor.

December 14:

Snow lovely snow! 8" last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.

December 15:

20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.

December 16:

Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17:

Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20:

Electricity's back on, but had another 14" of the damn stuff last night. More shoveling. Took all day. Damn snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.

December 22:

Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white shit fell today, and it's so cold it probably won't melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to pee. By the time I got undressed, peed and dressed again. I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plow on his truck for the rest of the winter; but he says he's too busy. I think the asshole is lying.

December 23:

Only 2" of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she nuts!!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she's lying.

December 24:

6". Snow packed so hard by snowplow, l broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snowplow, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas Carols with her and open our presents, but I was busy watching for the damn snowplow.

December 25:

Merry Christmas. 20 more inches of the !=3D@x@!x!x1 slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's an idiot. If I have to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to kill her.

December 26:

Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.

December 27:

Temperature dropped to -30o and the pipes froze.

December 28:

Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. THE BITCH is driving me crazy!!!!!

December 29:

10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?

December 30:

Roof caved in. The snow plow driver is suing me for a million dollars. The wife went home to her mother. 9" predicted.

December 31:

Set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.

January 8:

I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed?

Why I Do It

2010-02-03T22:33:00.005-05:00

Today is weigh-in day over at the Sisterhood, and I thought I would post over here today. It's been a while since I've talked about my weight loss journey here, and I'd kind of like to mention something else that we're doing that is very, very exciting for us. So, quick note about my actual weight. I'm up a pound, but I'm really not bothered by it for a few reasons. I had mondo stress this past weekend/week, and it was that time of the month, so I ate a few things that I really, really shouldn't have, so there's my pound. But I'm just not worried about it because this week, I began to train.

For what, you ask? Well let me tell you...

First, let me say that I really am not a fan of running. In fact, I quite literally hate it most of the time. I've mentioned this little interesting fact several times over here more than a few times. Running and I just aren't friends. We never have been. The only reason I tolerated it in high school was because I loved basketball so very much.

I really loved the game and the strategy and the competition in basketball, but the thing that I loved the most was the sense of team. I loved everything about being on a team. I loved that we had team rituals, that we all had dinner together before a game, that we planned each game day what we were going to wear and how we were going to match. Loved it.

As an adult, I admit, being on a team has been something that I really have missed. Sure, there are adult leagues here, but I just haven't found a group that I really click with.

Not like I clicked with everyone at the Sisterhood. I've found a whole new world of friends that I love so much. When some of them jumped onto the running bandwagon, I admit, I was not really thrilled. Fine, I thought, I'd do a 5K and that'd be it. So, I did my 5K and someone mentioned a half marathon. NO.WAY. Not happening. Then someone else mentioned Virtual Team in Training...

I've had every other type of cancer in my family, but not blood cancers. Still. To me, cancer is cancer. That hateful disease has taken my uncle, an 18 month old cousin, my grandfather, my nephew's cousin (on his mama's side), and a sorority sister's two year old. So, absolutely, anything I can do to kick cancer's ass, I'm all for, BUT...

...a half marathon? Really? How can I do THAT? That love for running has NOT hit me. I'm almost sure that it never will. Then, I saw my sisters' enthusiasm. Their excitement for not only doing this to fight cancer, but for doing this together. As a team. And I was hooked.

No, I don't love to run. I probably never will. But I'm running. Training for a half marathon. Yes, I'm running for my health, but that's not why I do it. I'm running for them. For my team, so that we can raise almost $50,000 to help fight cancer's ass.

Would you like to help us get there? You can go here. Any support is appreciated!

At War With The Little Dude

2010-02-01T21:11:00.002-05:00

First, let me say, yes, I did provoke this behavior in my nephew, but I had to show you the fight I have on my hands here. People, this is MY quilt, and I'm not giving it up. I don't care how cute the little stinker is, this means war.

The Trip to Denver

2010-01-29T20:11:00.008-05:00

I was sitting in the Cincinnati airport waiting for my connecting flight. I had been up since 2 a.m. (yes, by choice) and had only had one cup of coffee all morning. A dad approaches with his two toddlers and parks the stroller near me. The dad makes a phone call, and the two toddlers proceed to run circles around me while squealing with delight. In my right ear there is this sucking sound. I turned my head to see what the hell that sound is and witnessed an older gentlemen cracking open a peanut while sucking his teeth. Loudly. Remember, I had just had one cup of coffee in the 6 hours that I had been awake. I texted Melissa to tell her that my first stop in Denver may be jail. That's even if I get out of Cincinnati before punching someone in the neck. The mother of the two toddlers approaches and sits in the seat next to me. Where I have my purse resting. My purse that contains MY CAMERA. I pulled my bag out from under her ass while glaring at her. There's the teeth sucking sound again. I turned to glare at the man who seemed to enjoy the taste of his teeth. Right before I could get up and harumph away, they started to board the plane.

***

It was cloudy the whole flight. I scored a window seat and all I could see was clouds. Boo. So I took turns resting my eyes and reading my book. I glanced up and out of the window and noticed that there is a break in the clouds. I looked down and saw a patchwork quilt of greens and browns. It was really quite remarkable. I had never seen this part of the country and for as far as I could see all there were was fields. As the plane approached Denver, I could see leftover snow making white veins in the Earth. Beautiful. I was so busy watching what was directly below me that I almost forgot to glance up. Words cannot describe the feelings that went through me when I saw my first snow capped mountain. It was wonderful and beautiful and, well, HUGE. The mountains we have here in Virginia (shut up, Melissa I can't call them foothills here, k?) are baby mountains compared to the mountains I saw. I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I fell in love with that part of the country while still on the plane.

***

There are very few larger cities that I visit that I feel like I could live there. For the most part, larger cities overwhelm me and kind of stress me out. I didn't get that feeling from Denver. All I could think of was how beautiful it was and how much I really liked the city. Melissa and I had a great time hanging out. We laughed OH SO MUCH. And I really do forgive her for forgetting to pick me up at the airport. (Okay, fine my plane landed early.) I KNOW you all are dying for pictures, and you're going to kill me but I didn't get any. I got a few shots of her dog and my battery died and my charger was at home. I KNOW. Scored major loser points there. I just think that means that I am really going to have to go back. Right? That's if I didn't wear out my welcome!!

I will leave you with a good shot I got of Melissa's pup Atticus though. He's such a sweet boy!

Melissa, I had a great time! I cannot wait to hang out again! Miss you and Denver lots!!

Gemini

2010-01-15T23:37:00.003-05:00

I was born on June 15th. That makes my zodiac sign Gemini, the sign of the twins. I love being a Gemini, but not for the reasons you may think. It has nothing to do with my personality or my horoscope. It has everything to do with something about me that you may not know.

As a child, I was fascinated with all things twins. Almost every doll that I had, I gave a twin (if it didn't already come with one). I read every story about twins I could get my hands on, I watched every show on twins I could find, and I had an uncanny ability to tell the difference between Mary Kate and Ashley as Michelle on Full House.

If I'm being completely honest here, I've never felt whole. I've always felt like something was missing. Or someone was missing. Like I'm half of a pair. I've spent every Christmas, every birthday feeling like something just wasn't quite right. Like we were missing someone in our celebrations. Once, when I was 12 or so, I became convinced that I was really a twin, that she was kidnapped at birth and to save me from the pain of it, my parents kept it from me. (Dramatic, no?) I waited until my parents had left the house for a bit, went into their room, opened the strong box, and found my birth certificate. I was heartbroken when I saw that the little box marked "singleton" was checked.

I couldn't believe that I could be so wrong. Every ounce of my being told me that the "twin" box should have been checked. I KNEW that I was a twin. I had to be. Only I wasn't.

Except that I was.

My mom lost my twin while she was pregnant with us. So, all of those feelings, all of those little pings and pangs that something was missing were right. I felt so relieved and happy to know that I was right.

But also I had to grieve. For the sister I never got to know or grow up with or laugh with or cry with. I had lost her without ever really having her. It just didn't seem fair. It wasn't fair. But I knew deep down that for whatever reason, that's just the way it was meant to be.

I often wonder now what life would be if she were here. Would I be different having grown up with her? Would our family be different? What would family functions be like?

It took me a long time to realize that she IS here. She's part of me. She has been with me for every single day of my life. She's experienced everything through me. I can feel her presence, which is why I think I was so fascinated with twins when I was a child.

No, it isn't the same as if she were here, living life as I do, but it helps my heart to not feel so empty to know that her spirit lives inside of me. That gives me peace, and that's why I love being a Gemini.

My First Little Green Follower

2010-01-13T21:47:00.005-05:00

Do you remember when you started blogging. How you were quite sure that probably no one was reading what you were writing. How you weren't sure that you WANTED people to read what you were writing?

That was my biggest hang up when I started blogging. I wasn't sure about any of it. I knew that Jessie would read my blog, and if she were the only one to ever read it, that was fine, but I admit that once I started blogging again, I was having fun writing. I was amusing myself by some of the things that I had to say, but I'm pretty sure not many people were reading. If they were, I couldn't see them.

One day, I logged into Blogger and I had a follower. Whoa.

Do you remember your first follower? I'm not talking about the people that may have been following your blog that you don't see or don't know about. (I know that Jessie will forever and always be my first follower.) I'm talking about (on Blogger) that first little green "person" that shows up on your dashboard that says "1 follower".

I'll never forget the the rush of excitement followed by the disbelief of "who the hell other than someone who really knows me would want to read my writing?"

I'll never forget who that first "little green follower" was. It was Audrey.

Audrey and I met when I first joined The Sisterhood. She always seemed to like my posts and seemed eager to learn some of the things that I had learned along my weight loss journey. So, when I saw that she wanted to read my little blog of just about nothing (or everything. However you want to look at it.) I was absolutely thrilled. And it made me want to write MORE.

My point is that never underestimate the power you have to make someone smile. We all have the power within us to brighten someone's day, to give them a tad more confidence, to make their day. It doesn't have to be something huge...it can be something as tiny as clicking "follow" on their blog. Just like Audrey did for me.

This June, Audrey and I get to meet for the first time. (Want to help us get there? Go HERE.) And I cannot wait to give my first "little green follower" a great big hug!

Walking With Dinosaurs

2010-01-09T18:32:00.007-05:00

Do you remember the first time you ever watched Jurassic Park? The very moment when they first get to the island and Grant see his very first real, live dinosaur?

The magic of Hollywood captured the hearts of many, many people who have always wondered what life might be like with dinosaurs.

Today, my mom went with to the show called Walking with Dinosaurs. This brilliant show aims to give you in person what we all experienced while watching Jurassic Park on the screen.

Being told that I could only have a point and shoot and not being allowed to take my Nikon, I was armed with my mom's ancient Cybershot. This camera was one of the very first Cybershots released and is probably three times the size that point and shoots are now. But I don't care because it still takes okay pictures and I'm going to SEE REAL LIVE DINOSAURS. (Yes, I am that big of a nerd.)

The show starts, and my mom's camera craps out. (Thanks Sony.) Luckily, I did have my blackberry on my so I was able to capture some not-so-great pictures. And the kicker? I saw tons of Nikons. They weren't checking bags. Damn.

Still, the show that is Walking with Dinosaurs is AMAZING. If you've ever wondered what it would be like to be in the presence of one of these creatures, this show is a must. The absolute best part for me wasn't the dinsosaurs themselves. Nope. It was the little girl next to us. When the first dinosaur came out, she whispered not so quietly but with such awe to her father, "Daddy, is it real?"

I've enclosed some of the better pics I took today. Even though they're not great, you can see what an amazing experience this really was. Especially for a nerd like me. :o)

One Year Ago...

2010-01-05T18:47:00.002-05:00

Do you guys remember in the olden days of Twitter (like a few months ago or something) before trending topics were on the sidebar, and you wanted to see what people were talking about in real time, you had to go all the way to the bottom of the page and search a keyword? Or something like that?

A year ago this week, I sat down to watch the season premiere of one of my favorite shows, The Biggest Loser. I, of course, had my laptop in front of me and decided to live search on Twitter "biggest loser". Of course, there were the snarky remarks like, "I'm eating a bowl of ice cream while watching The Biggest Loser. Should I feel guilty?" but then, I just happened to glance at my screen when I saw one that said something like this:

"Watching The Biggest Loser for the first time. Wow! These people are inspirational!"

I was intrigued enough to click on the profile known as @shrinkingjeans and follow whomever it was watching the show for the first time. She immediately followed me back and we "tweeted" a few times back and forth about the show.

I admit, I didn't watch much of the first episode because I was pouring through the mounds on posts at that Twitter page's website: The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. I was in awe of the amount of work it must take to run a site like this. Plus, these girls were all going through the same thing I was going through.

See, at that time, I had lost just a bit over 50 lbs, and was really dying to get my story out because I had my ducks in a row. I had nailed weight loss and would love to help others figure it out. But here's a little secret about me that you may not know....ready for it? Lean in close. I can be shy and reserved. Yep. It's true. Depending on the situation and until you really get to know me, I may seem like a completely different April than you know and love (haha!) on this blog.

So, the next day, at work, I bet I clicked on the Sisterhood a dozen times. I bet I went to the contact page half as many times, and I know I wrote my email over and over. I just didn't know what to say...or I was afraid it would sound dumb. And all I really wanted to do was to tell these girls (and guy) what a wonderful site they had. Okay, April, I thought. You're being dumb, just send the stupid message. *click* I sent it.

Within minutes I had replies from Christy, Lissa, and Crooked Eyebrow. I was in awe. Christy and I chatted for most of the rest of the day. By the end of the week, Christy had talked me into restarting this blog and joining them in their new challenge.

And if you've been following along for any length of time, you know what happened next!

Now, I'm lucky enough to call these girls (and guy) and many of you my friends. The bonds created by blogging continue to amaze me every single day. And since it was a year ago this week, that Christy made me, I mean showed me the beautiful thing that blogging can be, I'm considering right NOW my blog-a-versary (or however it's spelled).

Tonight, I'LL behind the wheel @shrinkingjeans on Twitter during the season premiere of The Biggest Loser, and I wonder...how many new friends will we make?

200 Questions For My 200th Post

2010-01-01T23:50:00.001-05:00

I can't think of a better way to start a new year and decade but with my 200th post. I tried and tried to come up with something completely fantastic for you all for this post. I tried listing 200 things that I did in 2009. I got stuck at 109. I thought about writing something inspiring, but I'm blocked from those types things at the moment. I found a 200 questions survey, but it was so obviously written by a 12 year old that I couldn't stand it. But I know how ya'll seem to enjoy my random posts and my 100 things post was pretty damn awesome, so I kept searching until I found this survey. There are definitely things on here that I'm sure you're just DYING to know about me. So, here we go...

1.Full Name: April Denise Holmes
2. Birthdate: 06/15/78
3. Birthplace: Salem, VA
4. Eye Color: pretty (okay, okay. they're green with gold flecks)
5. Height: 5ft3in
6. Weight: 150 (as of last weigh in. I will NOT be here long.)
7. Right handed or Left handed? I'm a lefty!
8. Heritage? English, Irish, Dutch, and Cherokee
9. My Worst Habit? I'm too hard on myself.
10. Zodiac sign: Gemini
11. Shoe size: 7 or 7.5
12. Pant size: (seriously?) I'm an 8.
13. Innie or Outie? Pierced. ;o)
14. Parents Still Together? For 38 years, baby.
15. The shoes you wore today: Black Airwalks that I'm super in love with.
16. Your Weakness: Mexican food. All of it.
17. Your Fears: The Unknown.
18. Your Perfect Pizza: YES. minus mushrooms.
19. Goal you would like to achieve this year: Winning a gold medal at the Olympics...no? Okay, find, I'd like to get to my goal weight.
20. Your Most Overused Phrase on IM: :o)
21. Thoughts When First Waking Up: SHIT.
22. Your Best Physical Feature: My eyes.
23. Your Bedtime: HAHAHA. Whenever I can get my mind to quit thinking.
24. Your Most Missed Memory? If it's a memory, how can I miss it? I always have it.
25. Favorite color: Orange
26. Food? Mexican
27. Sport? Football
28. Animal? Giraffe
29. Ice Cream? Moosetracks, but I've grown really fond of coffee ice cream lately
30. Candy? Dark Chocolate or Peanut Butter M&Ms
31. Store? Target
32. Salad Dressing? Ranch but I try to eat more Balsamic Vinaigrette these days.
33. Actor? Anyone who isn't Will Ferrell
34. Letter? M
35. Number? 7
36. Gum? Not a big fan of gum.
37. Holiday? St. Patrick's Day
38. Season? Fall
39. Toothpaste flavor? Anything that is minty fresh will do, thanks.
40. Radio Station? I don't listen to radio.
41. Perfume? Well I wear Dancing Waters from Bath and Body, but Clinique Happy Heart runs a close second.
42. Scent besides perfume? Fresh cut grass even though it makes me sneeze.
43. Body part on the opposite sex? Love me some nice guns.
44. What do you want to be when you grow up? Taller. Wait-dammit.
45. How do you want to die? Peacefully.
46. Turn ons: Kiss my neck, I melt.
47. Turn offs: Arrogance.
48. Which one of your friends acts the most like you? Jeff. Seriously, it's kind of scary.
49. Who makes you laugh the most? All of them. I have funny friends.
50. Who have you known the longest? Jessie. (I would say Lana, but she doesn't remember going to church together, do you Lana?)
51. When have you cried the most? I guess when my uncle was sick, then passed.
52. What is the best feeling in the world? Love.
53. Worst feeling? Throwing up. For real.
54. Where do you want to live when you grow up? Neverland, wait, I guess not, huh? Out west.
55. If you could change one thing about you, what would it be? I would never forget to love myself.
**Finish Each Sentence**
56. What a nice : beer I'm drinking.
57. Where did all the: good men go and where are all the gods...
58. Silly, little: Lucy. (My mom's dog.)
59. Never, under any circumstance: will I moon someone. Again.
60. I wish: I could come up with something better for this post.
61. Everyone has a: soulmate. (I know, I know.)
62. I am: awesome. HAHAHAHA
**Have You Ever**
63. Been in love? Yes.
64. Ben to Juvie? Seriously? I liked this survey until now. But no.
65. Mooned someone? see #59
66. Ran away from home? No, but I had my bags packed once.
67. Pictured your crush naked? Oh yeah....mmmm...oh! Sorry, where were we?
68. Skipped school? High school, no. College, hell yeah.
69. Thought about suicide? Not even at my lowest point.
70. Slept outside? Yep.
71. Laughed so hard you cried? Yes.
72. Cried in public? Yes.
73. Thrown up in public. Yes.
74. Wanted to be a model? No.
75. Cheated on someone? No.
76. Done something really stupid that you still laugh at today? Falling out of my chair comes to mind.
77. Seen a dead body? Unfortunately.
78. Drank alchohol? (Yeah, survey has taken a turn for the worse.) Hello, beer lover here!
79. Smoked? No.
80. Eaten Sushi? I'm told California rolls don't count.
81. Been on stage? Yes.
82. Gone skinny dipping? Yes.
83. Shoplifted? Not on purpose. There was pacifers in the bottom of the cart, and I didn't know it, when I found them, I took them back in and paid for them.
84. Been beaten up? Yes.
**Do You?**
85. Swear? Me? Shit no.
86. Sing well? In the car or shower I do.
87. Shower Daily? Who sent this survey to Robert Pattinson?
88. Want to go back to school? Maybe someday to get my Masters.
89. Want to get married? I don't think so.
90. Believe in yourself? On some things I do.
91. Get motion sickness? Yes.
92. Think you're attractive? I'm freaking adorable.
93. Get along with your parents? Most of the time.
94. Like thunderstorms? Love them.
95. Play an instrument? I play mandolin by ear.
96. Own an ipod? Love my ipod.
97. Pray? Sometimes.
98. Go to church? No.
99. Sleep with stuffed animals? Sometimes I cuddle with Gordon the Giraffe.
100. Keep a diary/journal? Doesn't blogging count?
101. Dance in the rain? No, I dance on the ceiling.
102. Sing in the shower? Dude, I'm the American Idol in the shower.
**This or That**
103. Pepsi or Coke? Coke.
104. Single or Group dates? Sure.
105. Chocolate or Vanilla? Both.
106. Strawberries or blueberries? Strawberries
107. Meat or Veggies. Yes.
108. TV or Movie? Yes.
109. Guitar or Drums? Guitar.
110. Adidas or Nike? New Balance.
111. Chinese or Mexican? Mexican.
112. Cheerios or Corn Flakes? Oooh, hard call. Hmm...Corn Flakes.
113. Cake or Pie? Cake
114. MTV or VH1? SyFy (even though calling it SyFy is just dumb)
115. Blind or Deaf? Is this really on this survey?
116. Boxers or Briefs? Boxerbriefs.
**Can You**
117. Do splits? Not without seriously hurting myself.
118. Write with both hands? Yep.
119. Whistle? Yep.
120. Blow a bubble? Yep.
121. Roll your tongue in a circle? Totally. (Got tired of saying "yep")
122. Cross your eyes? Sure.
123. Walk with your toes curled? Absolutely.
124. Dance? I'm a terrific dancer!
125. Eat whatever you want and not worry? NO.
**Who was the last person**
126. You touched? My mom.
127. Talked to on the phone? My mom.
128. You instant messaged? Melissa.
129. You hugged? My mom.
130. You yelled at? Do dogs and birds count?
131. You played a sport with? If running counts, it was our trainer at work.
132. When was the last time you cried? Last week.
133. When was the last time you laughed? About 2 minutes ago. (I laugh a lot.)
134. Last movied you watched? I'm watching Fellowship of the Ring right now.
135. Last flavor of gum you chewed? Some minty kind.
136. Last joke you told? Knock, knock...
**Right at this moment**
137. Where are you? On my recliner.
138. What can you see out of your window? Can't, blinds are closed.
139. Are you listening to music? Nope.
140. What are you wearing? Pink PJs that I got for Christmas.
**Beliefs**
141. Do you believe there is life on other planets? Hello...I'm half Vulcan!
142. Do you believe in miracles? Yep.
143. Magic? Yes. But only when you have a wand...
144. Love at first sight? I think it can happen.
145. Heaven? Yes. Christy lives there.
146. Hell? I work there.
147. Ghosts? YES.
148. Santa? Don't you?
149. Evolution? Jury's still out.
**In a boy**
150. Fav eye color? Brown or hazel.
151. Fav hair color? Brown. (but am also a sucker for redheads.)
152. Short or long hair? Never really considered this one. Short I guess.
153. Height? Taller than me is a plus.
154. Weight? Doesn't really matter. I tend to go for stocky dudes though.
155. Best clothing style: Clean.
**Random** (Isn't this whole thing random?)
156. What country would you like to visit most? Hmm...Ireland.
157. Your good luck charm? This ring I wear.
158. How many pillows do you sleep with? Have to have two or more.
159. Do you drink milk? Yes, love milk.
160. Person you hate most? I'm not naming names.
161. Most outdate phrase? I dunno, I like em all.
162. Do you think God has a gender? I don't know, I've never asked.
163. Where do you think we go when we die? I don't think about this. We'll all find out some day.
164. How many rings until you answer the phone? My ringtone right now is "It Happens" by Sugarland, so I have no clue.
165. What is something scientist need to invent? Teleporters.
166. Are you a health freak? I can be.
167. Are you a virgin? Um, no. But don't tell my mom. ;o)
168. If you could travel into space, where would you go? Vulcan
169. What is the worst weather? Rain.
170. Did you play with Barbies as a child? Not really.
171. How many grades did you fail? None.
172. Do you like pickles? Yep.
173. Have you ever faked sick? Totally.
174. What was the last lie you said? I got it on sale.
175. Have you ever cried during a movie? Sure have.
176. What is your blood type? A+
177. How old were you when you received your first kiss? 6. ;o)
178. Have you ever had an online relationship? Yep.
179. How many piercings do you have? 5
180. Have you ever broken a bone? Yep.
181. What do you want your friends to think about you? That I make them laugh and I love them.
182. Have you ever bitten someone? Yes.
183. Do you make wishes on shooting stars. Absolutely.
184. Do you remember your dreams? Most of them.
185. Have you ever been in the hospital? Yep. Almost died once.
186. Would you ever participate in a threesome? Hmmm...maybe.
187. Do you have any hidden talents? Nah? If I can do it, I'll tell ya.
188. Do you prefer books or movies? I like both but usually movies based on books tick me off.
189. What is your favorite book? Marley and Me
190. What do you collect? Carousels and an antique china pattern.
191. Are you a different person than you were 5 years ago? A completely different person.
192. Are you happy? Yes, I really am.
193. Pets: two dogs and two birds
194. Have any tattoos? I have one that I designed myself.
195. Favorite flower: Lily
196. Are you shy? I can be in person at first.
197. What is your deepest secret? Lean in close...I'm a sci fi nerd. Really.
198. Where do you want to go on vacation? Atlantis
199. Do you like coffee? LOVE coffee.
200. What is your mood? Happy that this is over. ;o)

WHEW. Now aren't you glad you stuck around for that?

Reflecting

2009-12-30T23:05:00.004-05:00

I've always wanted to be an author. (Pause. If I'm being honest, there are about 100 things I've always wanted to be. Artist, zookeeper, veterinarian, used bookstore owner, greenhouse owner...you name it, I've dreamed of doing it. Un-pause.) One day, I actually sat down and started a novel. (No, you can't read it.) What I found in my miserable attempt to write a novel was that I have great ideas, terrific beginnings, and wonderful endings. What I don't have is the talent to fill in the details.

A good and successful author has a gift to make his or her characters come to life. You feel like you're right there in the story, experiencing the adventure with the characters. I don't have that gift, and after many failed attempts at my novel, I knew that I just wasn't meant to be an author. I'm fine with it now. Mostly.

In May 2008, I started this blog. I was almost 30, and thanks to BFF Jessie she talked me into documenting my 30th year and my weight loss adventure. I posted 7 times from May through December 2008. I know, I rock.

Then in January 2009, I met Christy. (Stay tuned...there will be a post about that soon.) She talked me into restarting my blog.

What I discovered in 2009 is that I may not be an author, but I AM a writer. And I think that I'm pretty damn good at it. Writing here is like therapy to me. It's where I can come and say anything I want. It's where I let all of my feelings hang out. I think Jessie said it best when she said, I am most me on my blog.

What my self-therapy led me to was all of you. New friends whom I have grown to love so much. I never in a million years would have thought that anyone (but Jessie) would have wanted to read what I had to say. And not only did you read, but you gave support and helped me to see things in a way that I can't always see them by just arguing with myself. You've encouraged me to write more, which in turn helped me grow more as a person, helped me to discover more of who I am on the inside, helped me to love myself more, and helped me find peace.

And THAT'S what I love about 2009.

A Christmas Funny

2009-12-22T22:26:00.008-05:00

Most of us stop believing in Santa when we're still kids, really. And when the day comes that your whole world is ruined because you've found out that the magic that was Santa Claus was really your parents, Christmas just isn't the same. You feel like it's lost it's magic a bit.

If you have children, the magic returns when you get to play Santa. I don't have kids, but I used to help play Santa at my aunt's and uncle's house when my cousins were little.

My cousin Aaron is now 18, but when he was 4, my uncle got the bright idea to buy him a micro-machines city. (If you're unfamiliar with micro-machines, they're tiny little cars and you could (can?) buy these playsets to go with your micro-machines.)

Now, if you're a parent, I know you know how toys come with stickers. Well this city came with FIVE sheets of tiny little stickers to go onto the city. So, he doesn't have to spend all day Christmas Day putting stickers on this playset, my uncle decides that we'll ALL do it Christmas Eve.

Now, imagine two adults and two teenagers taking "shifts" going to the bathroom to put stickers on this toy. To make matters worse, you had a "map" of the city. So you had to locate where each sticker had to go. This took forever. We'd each take a while in the bathroom. (Not my idea of a fun Christmas Eve evening, by the way.)

At one point right before Aaron was to go to bed, I was headed for my third trip to the bathroom. Aaron noticed.

Aaron: April, where are you going?

Me: I have to go to the bathroom.

Aaron: AGAIN?!

Me: Yep.

Aaron: Man, ya'll sure have POOPED a lot tonight.

And he walked off.

Moral to the story: Just wait until Christmas Day to put the stickers on the toys.

Snow. Lots Of It.

2009-12-19T18:07:00.004-05:00

Usually when they call for snow here, I just kind of smirk and say, "right." Oh, don't get me wrong, it'll snow sometimes, but it's only a dusting and never lasts more than a day.

Last night, they called for snow, and boy did we get it. It hasn't snowed like this here since 1996. Some will argue that it was 1995, but I know it was '96 because I was a senior in high school, we were out of school for two weeks, and my exams were cancelled.

So there.

Since snow like this is so rare here, of COURSE I had to take pictures!! (So, those of you who are used to snow, please bear with me, k? Thanks!)

The girls' dog house.

Pretty.

A neighbor dog came by for a visit.

There's a picnic table under there.

I love this one.

Bayleigh sees something. I love the snow on her back. She didn't.

Snow is piled everywhere!

I was making her fetch snowballs. She'd reach them and then couldn't find them. Bad Mama.

I think this one's my favorite.

Did You Ever...

2009-12-14T21:52:00.003-05:00

Tonight, I walked into my kitchen, I took off, and I slid in my socks to the refrigerator. Oh man, how I loved to do that as a kid. Even though whatever adult was around would fuss at me for doing that, I'd sneak and do it as often as possible. And even though I fell and busted my ass more than a few times, I'd still slide across the floor in my socks.

Did you ever do that? Or how about after taking a bath. You knew your favorite show was almost on, so you had to hurry up, so you'd get your PJs on as quickly as possible without really drying off?

Or, just playing in the rain and jumping in mud puddles. Did you ever?

The things we did as kids without even giving a second thought to. Things that we may would get "in trouble" for really were the best times. I like to think of them as a kid's breaths of fresh air. Even though, for the most part, we had little stresses as kids, we all needed those moments where we could just take a moment and forget about school or homework or *gasp* cleaning our rooms. Without even thinking we took moments and did something completely illogical.

The holiday season can be particularly stressful for me. I never know what to get people, and never have enough money to buy my loved ones what I'd really like to buy them. Yes, I know that it's the thought that counts, but what to give? I generally will shop and shop and shop until it's the last minute. I think sometimes as adults, we get too wrapped up in the worries that are life. It stresses me out so much that I notice that smaller, dumber things start to annoy me. Have you ever notice how that happens? One big thing stressed you out, then the smaller things start to bother you. Work, school, kids, spouses, bills, holidays, friends, this event, that event. We get so wrapped up that we sometimes forget to just take a second and breathe. We forget that we need those little moments to do something completely illogical.

We need to just breathe. Or slide in our socks across the floor. Go ahead, give it a try. Just don't fall, k?

Most Annoying Christmas Decoration Ever

2009-12-05T23:37:00.003-05:00

When I helped my mom decorate her house for the holidays (it's a tradition with us), I was secretly hoping she would forget a particular decoration. We had everything up, and then she said, "Hey, we need to get the snowmen out!"

This was what she was referring to:

Oh, yeah...sure you may think this is cute, but the thing has a motion sensor, and is extremely sensitive. This means that if the wind blows, the damn thing goes off. And if that's not bad enough, my nephew LOVES this thing. Begs to make the snowmen talk. He was fascinated with them last year too, which was cute since it was his first Christmas....until it was freaking March and my mom still had those little punks hanging on the wall.

So forgive me for not looking forward to hearing those little shits the 5 million times I'm going to have to hear them this holiday season.

That is all. ;o)

What I Was Thankful For

2009-11-29T20:31:00.003-05:00

As Thanksgiving weekend comes to an end, and the start of the Christmas season is now beginning, I thought I would take some time to reflect on my weekend.

I generally hate family functions. I've told you in previous posts about the aunts. They stress me out. When they're together, someone usually ends up in tears. (This year was no exception.) But while there was a lull in the chaos, something hit me and I took a moment to reflect on it...

My granddaddy (my mom's dad) is one of the most wonderful men I have ever had the priviledge of knowing. Since losing 60 lbs, every time he sees me, he tells me how good I look. When some in my family start to try to make me feel bad for still being single, he says, "April's the smartest one of all of you, if you ask me." Then he'll wink at me. One of my favorite things to do is to sit and watch science fictions shows and movies with him. And if you walk into my house, you'll see that a lot of my furniture doesn't match. I have a lot of wooden furniture mixed with the more contemporary things that tends to reflect my style. Most of the wooden furniture in my house was handmade by him. I can remember watching each piece being made. I can remember bringing each piece home. Each piece of that I have is a work of art. Made from love by a man who loves his family so much. I will treasure each piece forever.

Granddaddy is in the end stages of emphysema. He's been on oxygen for at least ten years now. (It's actually more than that, but I can't remember exactly what year he went on oxygen.) The color in his cheeks has been gone for a few years now. He can't walk ten feet without getting out of breath. A few days before Thanksgiving he came down with bronchitis. Each time he has to fight bronchitis, it weakens his lungs even more. At one point on Thursday my granny said to the aunts, my mom, and I, "He's never going to get better." We all know this, yet every time we hear it, it breaks our hearts just a little bit more.

At one point, we were all in the den. My granny was in her chair, my mom and the older aunt were on the couch, and I was in my granddaddy's Hoveround. (Hey, don't judge. That thing is a freaking blast to play with, and Granddaddy gets a kick out of us playing with it.) I looked over and my grandfather was lying back in his recliner asleep.

I wish I could say that he looked so peaceful, but he didn't. Even in his sleep he was struggling to breathe.

For a few minute, while sitting in his Hoveround, I checked out of the conversation that was going on between my grandmother, mom, and aunt, and watched my grandfather sleep. In those few minutes, I remembered what it was like to watch him make those pieces of furniture. I thought he was such a strong man then, but I realize now how strong he really is. Each day is a battle for him, and we all know that he is fighting a losing battle. Yet each day, he fights. Each day, he's thankful he is still here.

So, this Thanksgiving I was thankful for my granddaddy. Thankful he still fights. Thankful that he is still here.

The Boy Who Never Smiles

2009-11-28T10:39:00.003-05:00

This is my cousin's son, HL. He's a quiet child, and rather than be mean about it (because he's only two), we'll just say he's not a people person. Most conversations with HL go like this:

Me: Hi HL!

HL: No.

My aunt had been saying how all week she tried to get him to smile for the camera. And while it's true that when you say, "Hey, HL, smile!" You get this:

I decided that I was going to get him to smile for the camera. For a couple of reasons. One, I knew I could do it, and two, I knew it'd make the aunt green with envy. (I know I'm mean.) What my aunt failed to understand is that you have to make it a game. So, I played peek-a-boo with him and made silly faces at him, and this is what I got:

Ain't he cute? ;o)

The Sisterhood Turns 1!!

2009-11-24T20:27:00.002-05:00

Dear Christy, Melissa, Lisa, Brian, Crooked Eyebrow, Beth, Thea, Christie, and Heather,

Christy, Melissa, CE, Brian, and Beth, a year ago you brainstormed and planned and brainstormed some more. You had a vision. A vision to help people (as well as yourself) to be successful in their weight loss journeys.

There are just some things in this world that you know from the beginning that they are extraordinary. Special. Great.

There are some things in this world that you know that so much care and love has been put into it that there is no way that it can NOT be great.

The first time I ever explored around The Sisterhood, I could tell that you all put a lot of love and care into sharing information. I could tell that you loved what you were doing. I could tell that the only thing you wanted to do was to help people in their journeys as well as share your journeys yourselves. I could tell that you wanted it to be something great.

And something great it is.

Now there are more of us (Hi guys!!). I can't tell you how humbled and privileged I feel to be a part of something so great. All I've wanted to do since figuring this whole weight loss thing out is to help others. To find SOMEONE and help change his or her life as mine has been changed.

For a long time, I didn't know how to go about that or even where to start. Then I was lucky enough to find you. And we are helping people change their lives, and I love it.

Not only have I found a place to support me in the last pounds of my journey, but I have found friends. So many friends.

We laugh together, we've cried together, we have definitely shrunk together. We're sisters. Fabulous shrinking sisters. And together we are strong.

A year ago today something great began. Ladies, Happy 1st Anniversary!! Let's cheers with our water....here's to many many more!

I love you all so much,
April

My Thoughts While at the Eye Doctor

2009-11-23T21:10:00.003-05:00

Thirty minutes past my appointment time. Why am I still in the waiting room?

I really could pee, but I'll hold it and just go after I get home.

FINALLY. She called my name. Shit. Now she's going to blow in my eye when that stupid machine.

And of COURSE she doesn't remember that I have a hard time not blinking.

Sure she says that this thing won't poke my eye, but what if she slips and it pokes my eye out. And she wants me not to blink. Right.

And you would know that my nose would just to stop up right now at this moment. Because earlier when I wasn't going to have an eye doctor in my face looking at my eyes was a much better time for the ability to breathe from my nose.

Yeah, I fucked that line all up.

My eye doctor reminds me of a kindergarten teacher.

Okay, yeah. I do know the words for "up and down" and "sideways".

NO NO NO NO. I do not want to dilate my eyes, but you obviously do, so do I have a choice?

Why does it take 15 minutes for your eyes to dilate, but 3 years for it to go away?

It cannot be healthy to be shining this bright light into my wide open pupil.

Oh no, what is that contraption she just placed on my face? It's pressing against my sinuses. PLEASE, nose, do not drip snot and embarrass us. I will cut you off my face if you do.

I totally shouldn't have had onions on my salad at lunch.

She's still looking inside my pupil. I wonder what she'd say if I asked if she could just make sure my brain is in there.

It can't be good that I'm now seeing blood vessels or nerves or both in the reflection of the light. Can it?

Okay, now I REALLY have to pee.

Finally time to go home...whoa, why do all the car lights look like giant orbs?

The Gift That Will Never Be

2009-11-17T19:01:00.004-05:00

I realized on Sunday that this coming week unofficially begins the holiday season for me. And I'm really dreading this Thanksgiving for one reason: my aunt.

My mom has two sisters. One a few years older; the other 16 years younger. I refer to them as "the aunts" when I have to be around both of them at the same time. They both drive me insane. The younger aunt is very unhealthy and extremely jealous that I've been successful with weight loss, but instead of fixing her problem, she insists on trying to make me feel bad. I've learned recently to "not engage the aunt". But that is a whole other story.

The older aunt and her family are visiting from Louisiana. They'll be at my grandparents' house this coming weekend through Thanksgiving. My mom and I will be going for visit #1 this weekend. I'm really annoyed with with my aunt. A few months ago, I was outright angry, but now, I'm just annoyed. Really annoyed.

Let me first pose a question to you: If someone gives you an heirloom as a gift, but gives it with the stipulation that you have to one day pass it on to the next girl born in the immediate family, does the original giver then have the right to ask for the gift back?

Now let me explain: My aunt had a daughter who passed away as a toddler from leukemia. When I was born, she gave me a baby bracelet and told my mom that it would be my job one day to pass it onto the next girl.

I remember from a very young age asking my mom to look at "my bracelet". I was so proud to own something that was my cousin's. I knew that my cousin had been special, and it made me feel special to have that bracelet. I couldn't wait for the next girl to be born so that I could give it to her. From the time I was a kid, I have been planning just the perfect way to pass this bracelet on.

The problem has been that there have been no girls born. With each pregnancy and birth, a boy has been born. But still I held out that I would maybe get to pass the bracelet on. Until...

My aunt called my mom and demanded (not really asked) for the bracelet back. For no particular reason other than the spirits told her she needed it back. (No, I'm not joking.)

Knowing her situation, I suspect that she pawned it. And that really breaks my heart. That bracelet was my prized possession my whole life, and it and my right to pass it on was just ripped from me. If she would just have been up front with me, I would have gladly paid her what the bracelet was worth.

And now I have to go see this aunt and give her a hug and act like nothing is wrong. (Because I refuse to do anything that may upset my grandparents.) Maybe I can "accidentally" step on her toes or something as I walk by? Yeah, maybe I'll do that.

Sunflares!

2009-11-06T11:48:00.002-05:00

I'm still visiting Christy in Texas!! On Wednesday we went hiking and she taught me how to take photos of sunflares! I'm still very new to photography, so I was super excited to learn this. So excited that I took A LOT of shots of sunflares. Here are a few I took, I know they're not great, but it's a start! I hope you enjoy!

If you want to see more pics from our hike, go here!

I Captured Love

2009-11-04T22:29:00.015-05:00

This week, I'm at Christy's house, and I've been so excited to get to post these captures, so Beth, I'm totally cheating this week. These shots are all ones that I've taken over the course of a few months. It's how I captured love.

Crooked Eyebrow herself said it perfectly when on Twitter she called it the "quilt that blogging love made".

We all chose a fabric, and I took them all to my mom. We put them all together.

And sorted them so they could be washed.

After we chose the quilt pattern, my mom cut the fabric into squares.

Then we arranged the fabric into the pattern and made sure each square had found the perfect home.

After, we organized labeled each row so no square would lose its way.

Each square was sewn...

and hand tied with such care and love.

We may not have all met face to face yet, but we all are friends. We have a bond. And there is love in that bond. As friends, we wanted to do something very special for a very special little girl. So, that's how the quilt that blogging love was made. And that is how I captured love.

Want to see more You Captures? Head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry!

Thanks to Twitter

2009-11-01T21:27:00.003-05:00

I can't even believe I typed that out. Seriously. Twitter can be such a great big pain in the ass sometimes that I just want to stick a fork in my eye. Like, the "Over Capacity" message? What the hell is that? Or how about the time when like 2,000 of my tweets just disappeared. (They did return about a week later, but still.) And I am so totally over blocking these porn people who follow me just because I use the word "hooker" in some of my tweets. Stupid Twitter.

But then I sit and think, if not for Twitter, I would have never written this post. (Or ones about Butt Growls or funny little poems!) I would have never started writing on my blog again. I certainly never would have gone to Chicago to Blogher because I wouldn't be a blogger. I would have never met any of you.

For those of you who may not know, let me explain...

Ten months ago this week, I was doing a live search on Twitter while watching The Biggest Loser. I noticed this one tweet by this user called @shrinkingjeans that said that she was watching the show for the first time. I clicked on the profile and found a blog called The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. So, I followed @shrinkingjeans on Twitter, and not a minute later, @shrinkingjeans followed me back. We exchanged a few tweets and that was that.

The next day I visited the site again. What a terrific site it was. I wanted to tell these girls (and guy) what a great site they had, but you see, I can be a bit shy at times. And hour later, and many do-overs of my email, I sent the site a message. Within 5 minutes I had responses.

Christy, Melissa, and Crooked Eyebrow all replied, and Christy and I chatted on and off for a lot of the day. (She was the one I was chatting with on Twitter the previous night!) By the end of the week, Christy had convinced me to join them in their challenge and to start writing on my blog again.

As mad as I get at Twitter, I can't hate it. It's because of Twitter, I met Christy, and I joined The Sisterhood, and I became friends with all of you. Some of you I've met face to face already. Some I haven't, but I know we will some day! (Hopefully sooner than later!)

It's all because of Twitter. And because of Twitter, I'm going to visit Christy in Texas this week! Christy, are you ready?! ;o)

Headed to Blacksburg...

2009-10-29T08:00:00.000-04:00

You can read all about it over here!! (For those of you who tried to comment last time and couldn't, that problem is all fixed now!)

It's a Shrink-a-Versary!!

2009-10-28T20:05:00.003-04:00

Hey you! Did you hear? November is our one year anniversary over at the Sisterhood, and we're celebrating in shrinking fashion!

All month long, we're going to have give-a-ways (um, like EVERY SINGLE DAY), and we have this awesome fitness challenge starting soon, and a brand new weight loss challenge (that starts today!), and maybe a few other fun things in store! But to enjoy the fun, you have to get in the game, so head on over to the Sisterhood. Do it now! Go! ;o)

So, this weight loss challenge...I sure hope it goes better than last challenge. The good news is that there are only two tailgates left. The bad news is that it's the beginning of the holiday season soon. This doesn't worry me too much because I've done really well the last two holiday seasons.

As some of you know, last year I tried the P90X program. I believe that was the hardest fitness program I've ever tried in my life. One thing that the trainer, Tony Horton, said almost every single work out was, "try your best and forget the rest".

I'm so bad about putting pressure on myself to do well. It's a bad habit that began in childhood and I've allowed to carry on into adulthood. I hate the feeling of letting those I care about down. I hate the feeling of letting myself down. Once I get that feeling, then it's hard for me to maintain focus. I let that happen here recently, and shame on me for that.

So, this challenge, I'm going to try my best. I'm going to hopefully shrink, and I'm just not going to worry about it. (Or try to.) I'm going to try my best. Will you join me?

Starting weight: 146.2

A Ghost Story - Repost

2009-10-26T21:05:00.004-04:00

Since it's the week of Halloween, I thought now would be a good time to repost a story I told in May when not as many people followed my blog. So for some of you, this is going to be a repeat, and I'm sorry, while for others it's going to be new. Enjoy!

Flashback 11 years ago. I was fast asleep in my nice, warm water bed and was having the most unusual dream ever. I only remember one of the details of the dream. This detail is so disturbing that I do not wish to discuss it, but know that as soon as it scared me, I woke up.

Something was very wrong about how I woke up. First, I was on my back. I never sleep on my back. And my arms were in a position so that my fists were at my chest. I couldn’t move. I was literally paralyzed from the neck down. It was as if a ton of weight was just sitting on my body.

I started to panic.

Then I realized I wasn’t alone in the room. I looked over and I see a pair of sheer white legs. I looked up and there by my bed stood a foggy mass in the shape of a man. His clothes looked like he was from the late 1800’s or early 1900’s. He was very tall, and you could tell that when he was alive he had very, very blue eyes. And he was staring down at me.

Now, being a girl that loved the show Unsolved Mysteries, you would think that I would have been thrilled, but the truth was I was scared out of my mind. How I didn’t pee all over myself, I’ll never know. I remembered watching a show once and the person on it said that if you ask spirits to go away, they will.

So, I turned my head and closed my eyes and repeated, “please go away, please go away,” until the weight lifted and he was gone.

A few weeks later my mom and I were visiting my grandparents. We were all at the dining room table and my granddaddy said that he had come across some old pictures that he wanted to show us. He passed one to me and said, “this is my grandfather, Lee.”

My stomach jumped to my heart. There was the very tall man with white blue eyes staring back at me just like that night by my bed.

Did you get the chills?

Kinda Like A Sorority

2009-10-23T00:02:00.005-04:00

I once heard this saying that you would meet the best of friends that you'd keep forever in college. I'm sure that's so very true for a lot of people, but for me that wasn't true.

I've been thinking about this lately and a few of you have reminded me of this recently. So, I think I'll talk about it just a bit. (If you don't mind.)

Let's go back to college... I went to a small college near my hometown that likes to think of itself as "the Harvard of the South". Now, I give you that nothing about my four years there was easy, but it cracks me up to know the attitude that some of those folks like to take.

Since I lived literally 10 minutes away from campus, my dad made me live at home. "There's absolutely no need for me to pay $5,000 for you to live 10 minutes from home," he said. Logically, he was right. Now? I wish I wasn't so logical.

So, to try to "fit it", I joined a sorority. Now, if you know me at all, you're thinking, wha?? Seriously?

Yes. I did. And to be honest, without those girls, I would not have made it through college. They helped me to begin to see that I am a strong woman. Not once was I hazed. I never felt like I "paid for my friends." (The dues I paid were to pay for things we did, like dances and t-shirts and parties, etc.) I always felt loved, and we were so amazingly diverse. I loved it. And, without them, I would have never had the fun that I did in college.

But, outside of facebook, I don't talk to very many of them on a consistent basis. It's hard to live with your parents and make the bonds that a lot of people do in college.

So, I spent a lot of my 20's desperately seeking lasting friendships. Some of them were right in front of me, and I just didn't see them until here recently. Others were terrible for me, but I was so hungry for good friends, that I didn't see just how bad they were for me.

I let them convince me that I was weak and ridiculous for being silly and, well really, just not worth a damn. I felt like crap most days. I tip toed most days. I was miserable most days.

Then one day, I had enough. I broke those friendships. I told myself they just weren't healthy for me anymore, and I broke the connection cold turkey. And I felt lost.

I felt like I had almost no one.

Then, one day, I found one person from my childhood. And not only did that person remember me, but she wanted my friendship. She helped me to see that I WAS worth so much more than I was giving myself credit for. And that I wasn't weak, but strong. And yes, I'm very silly, but you know what? That's perfectly okay.

Eventually I became the person that you all know now. I'm not weak, I'm very strong, and yes, I'm silly, but you know what? Who the hell cares? It's fine, and it's fun, so all is good.

I know I still struggle with some of this. I know some of you have seen this, and I know it can be annoying. I'm not asking for patience (because I know it's so freaking annoying) but I do appreciate it. I sometimes feel like the friendships I have made here are the ones that most people make in college.

So many people see a sorority as a bad thing. All you hear about is the bad, so it's hard to know that there is good out there when it comes to sororities. But when I think of a sorority, I think of a group of women who share a common bond in something. In college, it's the actual sorority. The bond that is created exists because because of the secrets you share within the sorority. In life, it can be motherhood or knitting or oh, I don't know, happy hours, or blogging.

So, to me, we're all kind of like my sorority. Diverse and fun and so very full of love. When one blogger meets another, a secret handshake of sorts is exchanged. That "bond" is there. Some you get to know better than others. That's fine. It happens in sororities. Also, when one falls, we're there to pick her up. If she succeeds, we celebrate with her. We just care. We're lasting friends. And I love it.

LOL Dog

2009-10-20T23:35:00.003-04:00

I took these shots of Bayleigh one night while I was watching TV. And since I don't really know what to write, I thought I'd share.

"Ohmyachinghead. I knew I shouldn't have drank all that beer last night."

"She doesn't know I just tooted. Hee hee."

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! TACKLE HIM!"

:o)