. . . so used to them.
Well I'm going to post this is 30 secs. Happy belated thanksgiving. Got up this morning @ 4 w/my parents and fell asleep in the car while they went shopping @ walmart. Really sleepy, going to sleep now. See ya!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Dog eat Dog World
My friends have children or are trying to have children. They are married to these buisnessman and they are stay at home moms. Fuck that! I want to grab the buisnessman and take them out their office because their is a new queen in town. I refuse to be a stay at home mom. I want to get in the dirt like everyone else.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Girl Power!
A poem by one of my most favorite poet ever!
Emily Dickinson
I measure every Grief I meet
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes
I wonder if It weighs like Mine
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long
Or did it just begin
I could not tell the Date of Mine
It feels so old a pain
I wonder if it hurts to live
And if They have to try
And whether – could They choose between
It would not be – to die
I note that Some – gone patient long
At length, renew their smile
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil
I wonder if when Years have piled
Some Thousands – on the Harm
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve
Enlightened to a larger Pain
In Contrast with the Love
The Grieved – are many – I am told
There is the various Cause
Death – is but one – and comes but once
And only nails the eyes
There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold
A sort they call "Despair"
There's Banishment from native Eyes
In Sight of Native Air
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary
To note the fashions – of the Cross
And how they're mostly worn
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like My Own
Emily Dickinson
I measure every Grief I meet
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes
I wonder if It weighs like Mine
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long
Or did it just begin
I could not tell the Date of Mine
It feels so old a pain
I wonder if it hurts to live
And if They have to try
And whether – could They choose between
It would not be – to die
I note that Some – gone patient long
At length, renew their smile
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil
I wonder if when Years have piled
Some Thousands – on the Harm
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve
Enlightened to a larger Pain
In Contrast with the Love
The Grieved – are many – I am told
There is the various Cause
Death – is but one – and comes but once
And only nails the eyes
There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold
A sort they call "Despair"
There's Banishment from native Eyes
In Sight of Native Air
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary
To note the fashions – of the Cross
And how they're mostly worn
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like My Own
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
December's To-Do List . . .
- First things first go Christmas shopping early and not Christmas Eve at the CVS pharmacy at midnight.
Well thats all I got for this month.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Dear Internet
Long time no see! How's my life? Nothing, just working like crazy. I just got my internet up. I've been working so hard to get it up again, I feel like a dork. I've been so so busy. Speaking of busy, Im going to be late for work.
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