My new apartment?

And there goes the brain, yapping away. I’ve been lying in bed for 20 minutes trying to fall asleep, but I’m so excited that I can’t fall asleep. I hope that the tea I had at dinner really was decaffeinated or I’ll be up for hours. However, I think it’s just the hopeful excitement.

So what am I hopeful and excited about? Well I was surfing a little online for apartments on Thursday and stumbled across a place that sparked my interest at www.viewit.ca. I called the number immediately (usually I wait until the end of the day), got a voicemail and left a pleasant message, not expecting to hear back. Then I forgot all about it.

Later in the evening my phone rang. A lady was returning my call about the apartment. I explained that I was looking for May 1st as I need to give 60 days notice. She explained that the apartment was empty now. I guess I may have sounded slightly disinterested as I was out with friends phone was rather rude. So I asked her to put me on a waiting list and if it didn’t rent immediately, to call me. She said why didn’t I come and look at it. I had immediately picked up her French accent and at some point had flipped to French and asked if this was better. She said she didn’t mind and we continued in French.

For some reason at this point my enthusiasm increased. I don’t know what it was; her suggestion of coming to see the place, getting to practice my French, or her pleasant demeanor (imagine a land lady that was nice). Whatever the reason, I became more excited. By the end of the conversation I had booked to see the apartment on Saturday morning.

After hanging up with her, I gabbed to my friends a bit about it, but left it at that. And again forgot all about it.

However, after crawling into bed tonight and trying to fall asleep, my brain has started to wander. At first I was thinking about speaking French. I very much miss that at my new job. Other than my old co-workers, it is the one of the few things that I miss about the old job. But once I began that train of thought my mind drifted to the apartment.

One of the reasons I have not overthunk the new apartment thing, is that I really do want to move. I’ve been very lazy because once I get an idea stuck in my head, I run with it, unable to stop. And I don’t want to rush too fast into anything. I want to make the right choice. (like the coat)

Well I’m chomping at the bit now.

I’ve started thinking about it, very seriously. First of all, if I really like this place (and I’m already sold, so it will have to completely suck for me to turn it down now), I’m considering giving only 30 days notice instead of the proper 60. I know it’s wrong, but as a friend has pointed out, with low income housing such as mine they’re lucky to get 30 days, if that. I know, excuses to make myself feel better. Am I afraid that it will affect my credit history? No, not much.

So that was my first thought. Move in April 1st, instead of May 1st…brain has begun to tick now.

She had said that the apartment is available now. So if I take it, it will be empty all of March. So I will inquire into painting ahead of my move in date & being able to begin moving some stuff over early. If she says no way, well, I am not opposed to offering a little extra $$$ to allow me that privilege. I very much prefer to take my time on a move to prep and do things in order with time to spare.

Okay, Done.

Next, I will make sure that if take the place, to be firm and learn from my past mistakes (ie. this place). I will make sure that things are repaired before moving and I will be specific (ie. floors, electrical, etc.). I will also ensure that it will have been scrubbed before my move in date.

Well now that I’ve started thinking about all that…now I’m thinking about painting, which means thinking about colours.

It’s a one bedroom apartment. My current comforter is maroon. However, the 8x8 foot curtain I have could be used as a bed cover and I could work with those colours (again). However, the wood in all of the bedroom furniture is light coloured wood, and the curtain is dark colours. I was thinking about a calming blue colour for the walls. But that would mean shopping for new linens (excitement building).

(okay…pause – since I started writing all of this, I have a) gone online to check out my possible new pad again and b) gotten back up to look at the colours in my curtain…ideas are coming together, decisions are being made)

Okay, the bedroom will be painted one of the warm colours in the curtain, probably a warm goldy/orange (not too dark), if so I will accent the bedroom with bronze/gold knobs etc. to bring out the embroidery in the curtain, or just go with the colour of the embroidery for the walls.

I will use the current curtain/false wall as either my bed cover or the curtain for the windows, depending on the size of the windows. I can use gold rope to accent it in either setting, something I had thought of doing originally with the material.

As for the living area, I’m at a loss. Maybe the calm blue, however it doesn’t really go with the dark living room furniture. Maybe a darker redder version of the bedroom colour, but not too dark, I don’t want it to be too harsh. It could work nicely though if done properly.

I will make sure to touch up all baseboards, and although a rental, I might consider mouldings. Too much? What…I’m fantasizing here…work with me.

Bathroom? Always a fan of black and white in the bathroom. However, I would enjoy some red accents (to tie it in with the rest of the apartment). I like sharp & crisp in the bathroom. AND my mother suggested from the minute I moved into my current place to get a storage unit for behind the toilet. So I will get one of those too.

The kitchen is also stumping me a bit. The cupboards are wood. If I leave them that way, I will probably do a cheery (not too bright) yellow. It also depends on how the living area and the kitchen are divided. If there’s no outside light, then definitely yellow, heck…even if there is. I like a cheery kitchen. I will also do the peel & stick mirrored tiles as I had hoped to do in this apartment.

So far it looks like blue is out the window (literally) and I’m going to go with warm tones of yellow – kitchen, orange/gold – bedroom, red/orange – living room, and then red accents in a black and white bathroom.

Yay Yay Yay

Now this can work whenever & wherever I move to, but oh, wouldn’t it be great if all of this could work out.

Things I’ll need to buy; toilet storage unit, under the sink unit if there isn’t one, peel & stick mirrored tiles, a filing cabinet (I just need one), a new sofa cover (the current navy was a last minute poor choice). Longer term dream purchases; a new bed (ie. a real one, not just a futon, but I do love this futon), another couch, except that I can use the futon as a couch if I get a new bed, a dishwasher if there’s space (yes, here I’m really dreaming, but it’s a nice dream).

Well, it seems I have just mentally negotiated a new apartment, given notice, decorated & moved in over a period of two weeks, all from a photograph, a message, a phone call and a booking.

I’m very excited, can’t you tell?

Details – 1 bedroom, small building (only 5 apartments, it’s an old house I think), with balcony (very small, but it’s still a balcony), appears to be street parking (cheap), all utilities except hydro (hey…that’s what I’m doing now), I block East, 2 subway stations South, a little more $$$ than what I’m paying now…but not much.

Well, fingers crossed. If all works out, I’ll be looking at paint colours and tiles Saturday afternoon. YAY (see…this is me hoping)

The Coat

Okay...

I did it.

I hummed and I hawed. I tried on the blue, I tried on the green. The large was too big, the medium a little snug but much more fetching.

Okay, blue again, green again...

me - "I wanted the pink, but my friends won't let me have the pink. The pink would be perfect."

Salesgirl - "well both the green and the blue look awesome...and I'm not just saying that!"

me - "of course you're not, I'm buying one of these jackets either way...and you'd better help me make the right choice or I'm going to be a pain in your butt when I return it for the other colour"

green again, blue again

I can't tell with my pink turtleneck on...it's tricking me.

me "...do you have a shirt without a collar that I can put on to try with the jacket"

Salesgirl "...sure"

me "...oh good, white shirt pink bra...now that's cute"

me "...oh wow...it is cute"

And, my goodness was the shirt ever comfy. Side note...must go back for some of those shirts (long sleeved tees, scoop neck, not cleavagy, great for the office or with jeans).

Love the green, love the blue...back to the green...not as nice after the blue, but the green is so candy...great with the pink sweater....makes me hungry for sugar. I am so cute in the green.

Pose, walk...pose, pose, turn, twirl...getting dizzy...

Play with the hair...green again...

Ahhhhhhhh! I just want the pink one...but you've said no pink, no pink, no pink, no...but the pink is so cute. Do NOT even try on the pink or you will buy the pink. But look at the pink, hanging there in the window...so lonely...so needing me...so cute on me.

The blue is too pale, the green should be paler...

There's a black...Yuck! Not for spring.

There's a tan-khaki-pale-thing...never...make me barf or at least make me look like barf.

I'm a Libra, put an ounce of weight on one side and I'll be happy. Someone chose for me...

Salesgirl "...they both look great"

Why won't she make the decision for me.

Other Shopper "...don't these seem a little snug?"

No, you're fat. (ouch)

me "...yes, a little, but they're stretchy and they're so cute". (that's why you're trying on the black lady, it's more sliming...I know)

Okay...
The problem...
...you were all such blue pushers but I -really- wanted the green, no one will have green...everyone will have blue and I want to be different, I love being different.

I get to the cash...hmmm...I'll buy a scarf, the kind you tie around your neck...pink (of course) because it will flatter me and the jacket nicely...I love pastels together.

me "...I'll take the pink scarf, just to piss off my friends who wouldn't let me buy the pink coat"

Other Salesgirl "...well it's all about accessories, how about this broach for another colour too..."

me "...no I can't pull off broaches, it makes me look like I'm trying too hard, which of course I would be..."

Other Salesgirl "...the scarf is a good choice, and you can use it as a belt or tie it like a man's tie...we're ALL about the accessories..."

(yeah I get that)

Other Salesgirl "...your total comes to $$$"

me "...it's HOW much?....how much is the scarf?"

(no wonder they're all about the accessories)

me "...What? no, put the scarf back."






I got the blue...It's soooooooooooooooooooooo cute :)

Thanks guys....

Love it :)

TeeVee...English...Blogging...Sleeping

TV is wonderful. The characters always say the right thing. Even when they say the wrong thing, it’s still the right thing. Unfortunately, real life isn’t as well scripted. Although sometimes it’s even better, but not all the time…-definitely- not all the time.

I wonder if television is one of the reasons for all of my hope. Seriously. I was raised in a generation where; Joey helps Blossom to learn a lesson, Will has to rely on Carleton, Vampires teach us the true meaning of love, and a rude little fat kid with an annoying voice and a skanky mom can help everyone. I mean talk about messed up. If all of those people can have everything work out, not necessarily in a half hour episode, but at least by the end of the season, why can’t it happen to me?

I guess I’ve been doing a lot of rambling; from my head, to the paper and then to this blog. It’s made me realize that my grammar, spelling and punctuation all suck. Not to mention my adoration of bad similes and metaphors (I don’t think I ever get as good as allegories). Thank you Ontario Public School system. And to think, not only did I love English, it was always one of my best marks (heck I couldn’t remember what all those things were and had to look them up on the web too).

However, all this writing and blogging has really quieted my head some. It has given my brain a little space. I haven’t done much writing in years, other than the rambling emails that I’m known for. (btw – it is email or emails when plural, or are both acceptable…like fruit & fruits). I was never very good at writing but I have always loved doing it.

This blog allows me to open myself up, so that I can just spill out whatever my mind needs to release. And don’t we all know how much I love opening up. At least what is being written here, as personal and inside me as it is, I think that it’s a lot healthier than my normal mental vomit that I can do.

I’m not trying to show off, or out-speak someone, or out-funny someone. Yes, I’d love it if there were hundreds of people reading here. I -am- an exhibitionist after all. But it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I’m able to put these ramblings in my head into a sort of shape, more of a physical idea, which helps me to make a little more sense of everything.

As I put my thought, ideas and feelings down here, my head clears. It allows me to look at everything head on, instead of simply trying to wade through it all.

I lie here in bed every night with pen in hand and a pad of paper next to me and just write or think what I am feeling. When I finally fall asleep I am very relaxed and calm. There had been nights before where I would lie awake, trying to fall asleep, while my mind moved too quickly, drafting conversations that would never happen, making shopping lists (note: remember tin foil) or just trying to have a single train of thought, not being able to focus. Now I don’t have to try. I simply shut my eyes, my head still clocking away, but much quieter, quiet enough to sleep. I was never an insomniac, but very often my sleep was troubled or restless, never fulfilling.

The funniest part is the cramp I seem to be developing in my forearm with all this writing. I can’t imagine how I survived most of my school years without a computer.

*yawn* Well it’s about that time. I can slowly but surely hear my brain getting quieter as it begins to shut down for the night. Not to mention the ache in my arm. If nothing else, I will develop a very strong forearm (that could be a good thing…lol) and even lovelier penmanship. I used to love penmanship, working on my cursive writing. I would so proud of how beautifully it has matured. Hey wait…I am proud of that.

The song in my head tonight as I fall asleep is the same from when I was on hold the other day. I downloaded (shhhhh) a couple of versions of it this evening, and it really is a beautiful piece of music.

“…you’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…you’d be like heaven to touch…I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has been found…and I thank God you’re around…you’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…”

Of course I’m singing along, both as I’m writing this and again as I typed it up…don’t I always…

All together now…

“…I…LOVE…YOU…BABY…”

love you guys

Still the same...and yet so different

I think back to my teens. What a horrible wonderful time that was. You feel like you’re all alone and that no one else feels the way you do, that no one else understands. How could they? They’re all so happy; their lives are so perfect. But as you grow up you realize that nothing is the way you thought it was. Everyone was the same. No one’s life was perfect. They were all just as confused as you were. They probably all thought that you were so happy; that your life was perfect.

I look back on those years and think of how far I’ve come, how much I’ve gone through to make me who I am today. And yet deep down there is still that confused little person inside of me. And I believe that inside of everyone there’s still a little part of who they were.

Some people have come a lot farther from those days than others, while some still cling to that person. That weakness makes them feel strong. They know who that person is. They have lived with them for so many years. A comfortable pair of shoes that they just can’t get rid of.

No one wants to be like that, lost and confused. But when I get to a place in my life where I feel lost and confused, I find that girl. And I cling to her and never want to let go. That girl got through it. With all the confusion she still made it through. She must have done something right for everything to work out. What did she do? How did she do it?

We all put a face on who we are, who we let the world see. How many people do we let see inside? And what have they done for us to let them in? How many faces do you have?

Is it wrong to try and shares everything with everyone? To try and let everyone in? Is there enough to go around?

Being a grownup isn’t necessarily better or even easier. We take the skills we have learnt and try to apply them correctly to the situation with which we’re presented. We have experienced and hopefully we have learned something along the way. But all that does is allow us to meet one challenge in order to face another that we have not yet faced; to conquer something and learn again. Does the learning ever stop? Do we ever want it to?

Take the good, take the positive, take the moments of joy and cherish them; don’t doubt them, don’t be afraid of them. Yes, we will face another demon. Enjoy the moments in between and enjoy facing your fears and evils as well, because they will teach you. To continue to learn and to grow is a great pleasure. Second only to the wonder of knowing that you are moving ahead, becoming the person you were meant to be, the person you already are.

Remember each day that although you are an actor and the world is your stage, that there are many people sharing the stage with you. Sometimes the spotlight is theirs. Never forget the other important players. Remember those who are behind the scenes helping you, setting the scene and giving you light. And those that bring you music, they bring true joy.

Remember all of them, for they are just as important as you. Sometimes you will play their music for them or hold the spotlight while they shine. Give them light, give them direction, and give them support.

Everyone plays a part, everyone takes their turn and sometimes it is best to just sit in the audience and take it all in.

Nothing is as important as right now, unless it’s…right now. Each moment moving into the next, building into another. But in each step we take forward we bring each past moment with us. Deep down still just that little person inside, so confused and looking with amazement and wonder at everything around us.
I never really liked that little girl. Now I love her; for she is wise and beautiful, she is strong and joyful, and she is still confused, but content in her confusion. She will be with me always and I have invited her to stay. She is wonderful company and I will always know her.

Snow...Spoons...Shakespeare

Sunday night we got dumped on…snow that is. And it was wonderful snow. I was already running late on my way into work (aren’t I always? Seriously, I can’t get my butt out of bed or out the door any earlier). Anyhoo…as I was walking to the subway station, I stopped to admire the snow. It was GORGEOUS snow…really light and fluffy looking, but nice and moist. And it was very deep for an overnight snowfall.

I stood there looking at this wonderfully cold, plush blanket and all I could think was I didn’t want to go to work. I wanted to call in sick…change my clothes…find a big open area…and just play in the snow all day. I wanted to make snow angels, and snowmen, build a snow fort and have a snowball fight. It has been quite some time since I have done any of the above. And it has been so long since I’ve seen such a lovely dough of snow. I tore myself away and continued to walk. However, I had to force myself not to simply throw myself down and make snow angels all the way to the subway.

Okay…plastic spoons. I’ve just finished eating my soup. And the spoon I get every day is one of the rounder soup style plastic spoons (not the plastic teaspoons). I prefer a small spoon but I’ve never had any difficulty with these spoons and I eat the same soup almost every second day. However, the edges of this plastic spoon were slightly sharp. Not sharp enough to cut my lips immediately, but definitely sharp enough that after prolonged exposure, I now have little wounds on either side of my upper lip. And they hurt.

…You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…you’d be like heaven to touch…I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…and I thank God I’m alive…you’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…

Gosh I love being on hold…any reason for me to call our client services and I get excited…yay…MUSIC!!! No, we don’t listen to music -at all- at the office, and I forget how much I love music while I work away so diligently at my desk, then someone asks me a question I don’t know the answer to and YAY, early afternoon, that’s at least a 5 minute wait and at least one full song…I haven’t heard that song in sooooo long and I just adore it….Oh Pre-tty Ba-by…and it reminds me of Ten Things I Hate About You (modern version of Kiss Me, Kate, which was a modern version of Taming of the Shrew). Thank you Shakespeare.

Some like it hot...

…and I would be one of them.

No matter the scenario, I like to get right in there. I am a person who likes to experience, first hand, everything. I am a do-er. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good book, I enjoy a great movie, but I would much rather be out there doing and creating my own stories, my own drama. Because goodness knows, I love drama.

I constantly make reference to ‘the stove is hot’. I don’t mean the element is dark, set at 5 and hot. I mean the metal is glowing red, the dial is all the way around and a little drop of water would dance.

There is something about that red glow. It catches my eye. Once I have noticed it I can’t look away. It begins to call to me. Watching me approach the stove is like watching an impending train wreck. The bridge ahead has collapsed. The worst part is that I often feel like the engineer. I see what’s ahead, I don’t bother to try the brakes, because at the speed the train is traveling, the brakes either won’t work, or they will but the results of such a fast stop will be just as severe as the bridge being out. And I watch myself approach the stove.

Then I reach out and touch it. I don’t just test it with the tip of my finger. I lay my hand, palm down, right onto the element.

Now the part that I find quite miraculous is what happens next. My immediate reaction should be to pull my hand off the stove. However, I don’t feel any pain or heat, I can’t smell burning flesh. Even looking directly at what is going on, I don’t see any scorched flesh or melting skin. It’s quite impressive; I seem to be immune to the effects of such heat.

At this point, most people, knowing full well that their hand should be quite disfigured and that they should be in a lot of pain, would take their hand away and thank their lucky stars for such a miracle. Then they can assess the situation and either decide they were lucky and walk away or they could do some further investigation at a slower pace, not wanting to tempt fate too much the second time around.

I, on the other hand (no…still the same hand), am staring at my hand and not in an amazed wow-tempting-fate kind of way, but in an I-knew-I-could-handle-that-because-I’m-tougher-than-I-appear kind of way. So I continue to leave my hand there. Why not? It’s not hurting, nothing bad is happening and worse, because it’s making me feel strong and powerful, I start to feel really good. And why would I stop doing something that makes me feel good and has no consequences, even though I know better, even though it should.

So I don’t question it. I close my eyes to it. I forget about it ever being a bad idea.

Suddenly it all hits me. I am feeling all of the heat, all of the pain and all of it all at once. I was not immune; it was simply a delayed reaction. The only power I seem to have is to postpone the inevitable. My own power blinded me to the reality. I look down at my hand all scorched. But I don’t remove it from the element. It felt good. I know it did and it can feel like that again. I just have to keep my hand there.

By the time I eventually pull my hand away I am in terrible pain and my hand is beyond recognition.
But I’m not worried…there’s always the other hand.

...this little light of mine...

I am a hope-er. Always. I have had friends ask me why I always get my hopes up, only to get them dashed once again. Didn't I learn from the last time? Wasn't it painful last time? Why would I go and hope for the same thing again?

Well, my hope is a big part of who I am...I should have been named Hope (really funny if you know my last name) ;)

Have you ever seen the movie from the 80s, The Neverending Story? (the original) Remember at the end of the movie. The screen is all black and then you see a light and it's the Empress, and you think she's standing with Atreyu (sp?)...but she's not, she's standing with Bastien, and she's holding out her hand.

.

In the Empress's hand is the last remaining grain of sand from her world Fantasia. That little grain of sand is glowing and what we are supposed to believe is lighting that scene. Well that little, glowing, grain of sand is like my hopes. And it's an imagine I have had for awhile. Only I don't just have one hope, I have many...

- that every boy who never called, will stumble across my phone number, which was given out with trust and faith and love, and he'll remember how awesome I am and he'll call me

- that one day a broadway director will hear me singing, in the elevator or walking down the street and he'll think I'm fabulous and perfect for his new show which is about to preview and he'll offer me the leading role

- that all my friends will put their differences aside and will love each other the way I love each and every one of them and every one will be happy

- that the man in the moon is listening when I talk to him and he cares about me :)

...and many other hopes, some even that I won't share here because it will upset the people involved...and maybe others not involved...to know other things that I hope about, even though I know those hopes will never come true, but I will still hope them.

So here I am, like the Empress, only I'm not holding one grain of this glowing sand in my hand, instead I store the millions of the these tiny objects in my heart. And they glow very bright and each hope supports another. This makes my heart very big, and very strong. If any little hope is let down, all the other hope around it gives it strength and supports it, even though it has been let down, that little hope continues to be there. And with this strength I can go on being let down time and again and still spring back full of happiness and hope for another day.

I was sharing this imagine with a friend earlier today. It's an image that I have had in my head for a long time. And I really enjoyed telling her about it and wanted to share it with everyone.

Being beautiful...

Last night I went to a singles event with a group of my single girlfriends. Well…we had a blast, but I wasn’t the nicest person in the world. I didn’t outright insult anyone to their face…but there was a lot of ‘oh-my-gawd’ giggling…and I was pretty nasty in my comments to my girlfriends about the people around us. It was a real mix of people and aesthetically stereotypically not the most pleasing to the eye (short, overweight, bald, unattractive, bad sense of fasion, all of the above…you get the idea). At the time it was a lot of fun and we were laughing and having a good time. No harm was intended.

Well, I feel really guilty about all of my nasty comments last night. I mean...those people have balls, to go out and do that, to make an effort, and by those people I don’t mean unattractive people, I mean single people who want to meet people and have fun and participate…and I really wasn’t making any effort at all...I made it into a lets-stare-at(and laugh at)-the-freaks for $20...which makes me unattractive on the inside...and I'd much rather be hideous on the outside and beautiful on the inside.

I have made the comment at least twice today that being there last night made me realize how attractive I am…however, I don’t think so anymore. It made me realize how UNattractive a person I can be…Seriously, I wasn't even willing to give a single soul there a chance in hell...and that wasn't fair of me. And one day it will come back to me...and someone will make me feel the way my comments would have made those people feel...so that is my penance right now.

Speaking of penance…I have given up alcohol for Lent this year. YES….SERIOUSLY! ;) And I can do it. However, looking back on my behaviour last night, I SHOULD have given up nastiness. The saying “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” should always be adhered, as well as “treat others as you wish to be treated”.

I believe I lost a job due to my nastiness once. I had been standing in a cubicle with another employee and he commented on another fellow employee. His comments were about how she didn’t do much, and didn’t know much, and just trashing her job and abilities. I joined in and agreed with him, and probably made a few comments on my own (I don’t remember all that was said). However, the other employee had been sitting in the cubicle next to us (not her own) and heard every word. I was unaware of this at the time. Later that day she sent me an email, making me aware of that fact and saying how upset my comments had made her. I replied and apologized (yes, putting it in writing was silly)…but I felt HORRIBLE about the whole thing, once again not thinking about how my comments could hurt another person. Later that week I was “Laid Off” for reasons that included…not following proper recycling procedures (it was a telephone customer service job that I was doing, nothing to do with recycling). But I knew why I had been let go…and I deserved to lose my job over that…and I was lucky that they didn’t fire my @ss and give the reason why…it was horrible and I still feel guilty about what I did.

So putting last night in perspective…I’ve got a long way to go…and I will continually try and remember that my words and my actions represent who I am and who the world sees and hears. I don’t want to be that nasty ugly person that I was being last night. And I don’t ever want to make someone feel as bad (or worse) as I made that co-worker feel.

Friendship...

Well, most (if not all) of you are my friends...

(...and if you're not my friend it's because you've simply stumbled across this blog and I've never met you, but that's okay, there's always room for more)

...and lately I've been thinking about friends and friendship and relationships.

So this morning I was on hold with my client services department and a song came on and chills went up my arms and tears filled my eyes...and YES of course I sang along... ;) But it made me think about how much I love each and every one of you and how important you all are to me. You all mean a lot to me...there through the good times and the bad...the happy and the sad ;) and I just want you all to know that I'm here for all of you as well, because I care about you. And if there's one thing I've discovered is that my heart is VERY large and it loves a lot! And I always want you all to know that...so if you forget, just pop back here and read up and remember :)

I feel like going off on a slight tagent about how important friends are...but I guess all I need to do is say that this is how I feel...and I hope you are all lucky enough to feel the same and have such wonderful people in your own lives, because I really am blessed.

(and try not to throw up too much from how nauseatingly cheesy I am, because if I could make this my background music today, I would)

Carole King - You've Got A Friend Lyrics

When you're down and troubled
And you need some loving care
And nothing, nothing is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon i will be there
To brighten up even your darkest night

You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend

If the sky above you
Grows dark and full of clouds
And that old north wind begins to blow
Keep your head together
And call my name out loud
Soon you'll hear me knocking at your door

You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
Ain't it good to know that you've got a friend

When people can be so cold
They'll hurt you and desert you
And take your soul if you let them
Oh, but don't you let them

You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend



I LOVE YOU GUYS! ;)

What a busy week...

Yup, tons has happened, and nothing at all...all at the same time.

Well, Saturday wasn't quite wasted...but it came to a huge halt right after breakfast and tv watching...just after noon. I decided at that point that I'd had WAY too much caffeine, so I hopped back into bed to get some rest and sleep off the horrible, horrible shakes. (note to self: DO NOT drink 3 cups of tea in succession, not pretty).

I had already passed into a lovely dead sleep when my phone rang and I sat up and grabbed for it. If it had been the name or number of someone I’d recognized, I probably would have continued to let it ring and gone right back to sleep. However, there is something about an unknown number that invokes in me a strong desire to answer the phone no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Two thoughts go through my mind when this occurs…first, maybe it’s an emergency, someone is calling me from the hospital or worse I’m their only phone call from the police station…secondly, whoever this person is, they won’t leave a message and then I’ll never know who called, or what they wanted, or if they’re going to jail (because that makes sense, not leaving a message if you’re in jail).

I answer the phone, now extremely shaky from waking up so fast and still with the caffeine surging through my veins. “Hello?”…worry and sleep in my voice. It’s friends of my boyfriend. My first thought (which is spoken out loud), “How did you get my number?”…which I go on to answer myself (also spoken out load), “Oh, never mind, M gave it to you.” (DUH!)…Then my other line rings…OH MY GAWD…another number that I don’t recognize, except that it looks almost like the one that I’m still talking to…hold on a sec I have to answer the other line…and who is it, but the other person in that house, I’m speaking to her on one line and to him on the other…now I feel like I’m going a little mad. We sort out that they are both talking to me and he hangs up. She explains that their car has died and they were wondering if I had cables and if I would mind giving them a boost. My head screams, “Noooooooo Don’t do it…you’re wired, you’re tired, and you -really- don’t want to. “Sure, yeah, no problem.”

Now this is me…of course I want to. Yes, I would much prefer to climb back into bed and pretend the phone never rang, letting my heart rate slow back down to it’s caffeine-resting state. But when anyone cries out for help I ALWAYS want to help. I have this inborn desire to reach out to others in pain or distress (or both). People in my life that I am close to I will reach out to them without them asking for assistance…often becoming more of an annoyance than anything else…but -really- wanting to help. To others in the world…those I don’t know or don’t know well, I wait for them to ask for my assistance.

Living in this city the hardest thing for me is passing the people begging for money on the street because they are asking for help. However, I cannot afford to give them all money and it wouldn’t really be helping them. So I continue to walk by with a depressed “…sorry…” not able to look them in the eye.

Is this desire to help people a good thing or a bad thing? Is this something that I should try and control? Are there times when offering assistance is wrong? Very seldom do I stop while driving. I often see an accident or a stalled car and think, “I’ve got a cell phone, it might not be much, but I’m sure it will help”. But in the big picture, stopping the car to help is along the lines of waiting for someone to ask. If they really needed help they would flag me down, right? And yet, for some time after I pass, I think about them and worry that I should have stopped.

And all this begs the question. ALL of these people are not my problem, it could be argued that even my friends, until they ask, are they even my problem. Why do I allow myself to worry and stress over people I don’t know or people that haven’t asked? What is it inside of me that twigs each time something like this occurs.

Gosh, it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn here. Look at me, the girl who cares so much, whose heart is so big…but I don’t really have anything to toot, do I? What do I actually do, but let these things eat me up inside? I don’t do any volunteer work. I don’t give much to charity. I claim to care so much but why? What benefit am I getting out of it? Does it make me feel better about myself?

*sigh* Believe it or not, this started out as a positive vein of thought. Not so much, eh?
Time to go back to work…