Why Why Why.

Ugh ugh ugh.

I feel so damn sick sick sick

whenever I think about him him him.

Which I do, all the time time time.



What the devil is wrong with me?

Life is so ridiculously repetitive these days.

I just wish someone would make it stop.

Today's Read:

Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer

"They made for themselves a sanctuary from Trachimbrod, a habitat completely unlike the rest of the world. No hateful words were ever spoken, and no hands raised. More than that, no angry words were ever spoken, and nothing was denied. But more than that, no unloving words were ever spoken, and everything was held up as another small piece of proof that it can be this way, it doesn't have to be that way; if there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it heavy walls, and we will furnish it with soft red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweler's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."

"The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them."

"And this is what living next to a waterfall is like, Safran. Every widow wakes one morning, perhaps after years of pure and unwavering grieving, to realize she slept a good night's sleep, and will be able to eat breakfast, and doesn't hear her husband's ghost all the time, but only some of the time. Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness. Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-grandchildren's will be. But we learn to live in that love."

It made me cry. And well, so does almost anything, but this one really did. Made me CRY.
As in, I had no choice in the matter.
......Make sense?

Well anyway, the point is,
golly freaking wolly, I wish I could write that well.

Unspeakable Thoughts.

Oh, you.

Man, you're really stinkin' cute. And your hair looked really kind of perfect today. Zac Efron status, you know. And I wanted so badly to flirt with you. But unfortunately, my understanding of that activity disappeared with my first love.

But then, I don't even know if you have a girlfriend. Sooo, how about you just receive, with a smile, my gawkish efforts at connecting, and then do all the flirting for me, filling in the clumsy spaces I create.

That would be a swell situation. For both of us, don't you think? Ha. I don't even know anymore. I don't trust myself with boys really. But with you it might be different, no?

Ah well. Just read my mind, okay? ;) THEN tell me what you think.

A Guide to Girls.

Well. Let me tell you a little secret.

Us girls, we sometimes say that we hate boys. But that is in fact nowhere near the truth.

We say that because we like to think it'll make us feel better.

Loving boys--that--is what we really hate.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to hurt so much when we find out they don't love us back.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to feel the sting that creeps up into our eyes

when we see them holding hands with someone else.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to fall asleep every night to a picture of them behind our eyelids,

all fuzzy and blurred because of the tears mixed in with it.
Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to come to the realization every day that they have this uncanny ability

to get over girls a lot easier than we can with boys.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then, when we lose them, we wouldn't have to feel an overwhelming need to do something drastic

in order to forget them, like changing our sexual orientation or dyeing our hair fuchsia.
Because, if we didn't love boys,
then we wouldn't have to sit there, completely unable to do anything else but just sit and wonder
why, why, why am I not good enough and she is?

But, if we didn't love boys, then I guess the earth would surely have to stop spinning, because, as I recall, love makes the world go 'round. (And, side note, we would be condemned to either freeze on the perpetually dark half of the earth or burn to death from the overwhelming sunlight on the other half.) So boys, we'll keep you. As long as you promise that maybe we won't always hate to love boys--that maybe someday, we might actually like it. ;)

Welcome to Facebook-aholics Anonymous.

Good afternoon. My name is Laura. And I, too, am a recovering Facebook-aholic.

I am happy to report that I have gone one whole MONTH without even touching Facebook (except for one teensy second to change my profile picture... cause I'm vain like that BUT it doesn't count because I didn't look at anything besides my own page). And the effects are as follows:

• Much more free time, which I have put to good use exercising, reading, hangin' wid mah besties, doing crossword puzzles (one a day keeps the Alzheimer's away), and playing the piano
• Much less time spent dwelling on You-Know-Who, probably as a result of no longer seeing his name and pictures everywhere
• Much more smiling

So there ya go, folks. Seems like it might be a good idea for some of you other Facebook addicts out there... ;) Ha. I just think it's worth it. Especially because I still get e-mails if there's an event I need to know about or if someone is trying to contact me! Which is just perfect. That way, I stay informed while never having to come anywhere near the plague that is social networking. Huzzah for being sober!

{P.S.}

I really despise Facebook, by the way. Just in case you all were wondering. I seriously can't stand all the ridiculous things people will do on there to get attention. And I'm not saying I'm blameless, because I have definitely made my fair share of attention-craving remarks on the old FB. But with some people it's just so unbearably blatant that with every single thing they write and every single picture they post, they are seeking solely for as many likes as possible. And that drives me absolutely bonkers.

Blemished faces
and anxious hearts.

All this bloody youth.

Only a Pipe Dream.

THAT IS MY BIRTHPLACE, PEOPLE.

And I've never been back.

B          O          S          T          O          N

Today a boy told me I was sooo beautiful, more so than even his mom.

And, coming from a 5-year-old momma's boy, I'd say that is quite the compliment. ;)

Ah well. At least someone thinks I am, right? Ha.

I'll find you someday, bread boy.

{the dandelion in the spring... the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction}

-----

"And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me."