love is hard...

i know that title sounds a wee bit discouraging but i promise it's not, and by the end of this little minute together you will understand me completely.

those three words are part of a james morrison song that really speaks to my heart. i think it speaks to my heart because i have always known that love isn't all rainbows and fluff. sometimes it's nothing but that. but that's like ice cream sundae dates vs. all the other meals you consume in your lifetime. love is real, my friends. it's as real as a bowl full of sauteed veggies that make you feel wonderful inside. and it's realities include all the feels you could ever feel; and more.

i've experienced many kinds of love. in fact i'm writing a full-fledged novel all about a myriad of loves i've had the privilege of experiencing in my 25.5 years of life. but in the last little bit i've had the wind completely knocked out of my lungs by a new and foreign love:

a long awaited love.

a love that is found in big gray eyes that look into my own, all the way down into the depths of my soul.

a love that is seen in beautiful smiles that melt me inside.

and matching messy hair.

this love is the sound of giggles that run so long they become slightly hoarse. and they keep on running. 

a new found love that only brings the kinds of tears that come from overflowing joy.

maximum simplicity.


effortless sacrifices.

forehead kisses on a naked face.

a love that is everything but self-indulgent.

this love sometimes leads to the macarena on the tampon isle of smith's at 12am after a long day.

other times it leads to silence and comfort.

it's raw. it's real. it's perfect. it's shocking.

we all know how well i deal with change. we all know how well i deal with: stress, lack of sleep, decisions, disturbances of the force. (even the good ones.) but we also know i have a sweet, little best friend with honey colored hair and the wisest mind there ever was. and in that moment of panic because my poor, simple soul doesn't know what to do with so much goodness all at once, she told me these words:

" 'they say love is blind. i disagree. infatuation is blind, love is all-seeing and accepting. love is seeing all the flaws and blemishes and accepting them. love is accepting the bad habits and mannerisms, and working around them. love is recognizing all the fears and insecurities, and knowing your role is to comfort. love is working through all the challenges and painful times. infatuation is fragile and will shatter when life is not perfect. love is strong and strengthens because it is real.'

i think your heart and soul know that this time is different. very different. and that can be overwhelming. because love is hard. it is. it's the best thing, but it's also the hardest thing you'll ever do. real, genuine love is work. it can be exhausting. or terrifying. or uncomfortable. it's a life-long progress. it's the beginning of everything, and opening that door that will probably change your entire life SHOULDN'T be easy. because giving your heart to someone so completely, handing over that superpower you were given, is scary. but it's beautiful because it is the most honest feeling you will ever have. and to be able to share that love? THAT is the real superpower. because everyone is capable of feeling love, but not everyone is capable of sharing that love. those people who claim that love should only be easy? they're all wrong. because if it were easy, it would be called infatuation not love. the difference is depth. love is more than the surface level. the reason love is hard, cailie? is because it's real."

that being said, there's another song that speaks to my soul equally, and it is called "easy to love" by ivan and alyosha. is it true that it could be easy to love someone when love itself, is hard? oh yes. absolutely!

if you have not found this love i speak of, i hope one day you find it.

i hope it washes away the hurts and doubts of all the imitations you've endured along your quest.

i hope it has those hard moments where you are given opportunities to show your courage; and this bravery brings you a beautiful depth that can be earned no other way.

i hope it is so real and so pure it scares the shiz out of you for a minute, or two.

and when you've recovered from that big scare i hope you have moments where you're stomach has a roller-coaster flipping sensation when you pause to think about all the things your future now holds because of this new love you have found. i hope you wake up each day realizing how supremely lucky you are.

because, as for me, i feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 



Midi-chlorians & Musical Prisms

in another universe, far away
there's a thing that makes a world go round.
a thing to which we're bound,
like a soul-feeding, harmonious sound...

surrounding and penetrating,
texture and silence;
mentality enhanced by a deep hypnosis.

light changing speed,
with the hum of a saber.
Transparent reflection in a chosen favor;
nobility in labor...

the master's strength flows
with rhythm and might. 
the pupil prepares for a life changing fight;
a dynamic, eye-opening, new sight!

one is chosen:
polished perfection,
melodious creator through which life flows.

like the speed of light,
a star burns bright
marking the end of a night.

untouchable, soul-melting source,
sensitivity of course;
may you have the force. 



autumn time ramblings.

carson always knows just the things to tell me. on monday he emailed me and told me:

 "don't just survive...thrive!"

lately i've felt like a stranger in my very own life. 
i crave familiarity, consistency, a sense of belonging. 
i don't even feel like me and i don't know where to find myself again.
 i have pieces and i get glimpses, but i don't know how to keep them
 and patch them back together. i'm in this strange limbo
 i can't seem to pull myself out of. a place 
where i long for the absence of the sting of tears. they come too frequently
 and at all the wrong times. the same place where i grasp to
 those tender things so close to my heart. so deeply rooted 
to lose them might shatter my entire being; 
finish off the total existence of my fragile soul. 
i don't know how to talk or be or move or think. 
familiar things feel funny, and unfamiliarity feels unbearable.
 the chaos of too many rushed goodbyes and early hellos
 has left me exhausted at best. early mornings and awkward smiles. 
too many situations where i leave wanting 
to scream and shout what i'm all about. 
if only all these strangers, all these 
familiar-faced, no-named, passers-by 
in this unfamiliar world could peer into my little broken soul.
 if only they could see my spunk. my worn out sass. 
that quick wit that can charm the world 
one laugh at a time. those twinkling eyes with an honest surprise
 and that ferocious mane of wild red hair. 
unstoppable ambition, contagious charisma, a hunger for life 
with a dash of adventure. they'd see it all
 despite it being in shambles. they'd see what was,
 what can be, and gently they'd help me nurture it back 
to strength. after so much time 
of simply surviving i'll begin to start thriving. 

only where to begin? 

i guess i'll start here. 


we are the robots.

this past week i lost someone very dear to my heart. i'm realizing how much i absolutely hate that phrase. i didn't lose him; i know exactly where he is. but it is the best way i can courteously explain something that i don't even know how to put into words. at his funeral yesterday there was a portion of time set aside for his friends to stand up and share their favorite memories of him. every part of me wanted to stand up and share my fond memories and let everyone know how much this great man touched my life, but i am a writer not a talker and if anyone knew that about me, he did, so here i am.

i'm always being told what my last blog post is all about: how i've got an "old soul." there aren't many like us who see things with the kind of eyes most others can't in this life. my dear friend roman, he had an old soul like mine and because of it he saw a side of people no one else could, including myself.

i will never forget meeting him. in jr high we both played in a symphony. every monday after school we would rehearse in one of the music rooms at what was then known as uvsc. the room was absolutely tiny and every week i'd have to squeeze between the brass and winds to sneak back to the percussion section. and every week there was a trumpet player who had long, curly blonde hair and he always wore these pajama pants that had chickens all over them, and he would always "accidentally" bump his music stand into me. i was 15 years old and at the peak of awkward and insecure. i would alway blush and quickly turn my head to give him a sharp look. but that was the point, because when you're an obnoxious 13 year old boy you can't actually talk to your crush but you can definitely bug them into making eye contact with you for 10 seconds once a week.

later that summer we spent 2 weeks in germany and austria as a group. i spent my time hanging around with a group of 4 guys the entire trip. although at the time i was all googly eyed over the boys in the group that were older than me and  so charming and outgoing but i was so shy i found myself always sitting with the little brother who had formerly been known in my life as "the annoying trumpet player." My greatest memories from that trip were the many hours i spent sitting next to roman on the buses just talking about all the things i had a hard time talking to everyone else about. i remember after a few days he let me know his left arm was crippled in a very "matter of fact" manner. i learned from minute one that roman loved nothing more than to tease everyone,  especially girls, and especially me, and i had never noticed anything different about his left arm before so it had to be another one of his jokes. i immediately said "that's not funny roman! i know you are just tucking your elbow in your sleeve....get it out right now!" and i proceeded to yank on his left arm. to my horror, not only was his arm disabled, but i had just grabbed it and started yanking on it. my jaw dropped and i was speechless. here my newfound friend was confiding in me and i had totally embarrassed us both. but he just burst out laughing in that laugh that anyone who knows him could never forget. after he laughed himself sick he told me that was the best joke he'd ever played on anyone and he proceeded to ask me to measure my tiny hand to his to see if it was the same size. the thing about roman is that i never saw him view his left arm as a disability. it was just part of who he was and he never let it stop him in anything he wanted to do. i never had a moment in our 8 years of friendship where i noticed it either, other than the moment i yanked on it of course. that is truly how our friendship was though. we both knew we weren't perfect. we were young and awkward and trying to figure out who we were but i i could just be me, with braces and freckles and flaws and he never saw any of that.

roman was that friend who would drive a good 45 minutes just to go to a movie or spend an hour eating some food and talking in my kitchen. as many of his dear friends shared memories of being in his family's home, i realized though his family is very dear to my heart and i did spend time in their home, roman was always such a gentleman and always came to me. i remember sometimes he would just show up and we would paint or draw together. i was so terrible at painting and he was so good. one time we just painted on some scraps of wood that i had in my garage. his painting was so beautiful i saved it and when i moved out of my parents house i hung it up in my kitchen. one day he came over and he was so embarrassed that not only did i still have it, but it was on display in my house because it was just "some of his doodling." he is very much the reason i love art the way i do and continue to paint despite how terrible i am at it.

i remember sometimes we would go to barnes & noble for hours. i'd always end up leaving with some 1000+ page classic that i would probably never read because roman talked me into it. in fact they are all sitting on my bookshelf still unread. we would wander the isles and he would tell me all about all of his favorite books. they were always gigantic and very deep with all kinds of great morals. one time in particular we collected a stack of books as big as me all about various breeds of dogs and we just sat and read and laughed about them together for hours. i didn't notice as we were sitting there that roman had been sitting in the same position with his legs directly in front of him without moving the entire time and when we got up to leave his legs were completely numb and he fell flat on his face. he just laid there, face down and laughed with me crouched down next to him trying to help him up but laughing so hard i ended up just laying there laughing uncontrollably with him. pretty soon several employees were swarming trying to see what the problem was and roman just kept yelling "my legs are totally numb!" and i just kept giggling. he had a way of making me laugh in a way that no one else could no matter what the situation was.

 almost every year as long as i can remember we would go to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's Christmas concert together. he'd always get bashful and make some excuse about not being able to find a date and i'd awkwardly respond with not minding to be the substitute but i looked forward to it every year. i remember the year david archuleta performed with them it was extra popular and we were extra late getting there. we found ourselves stuck outside in a large group of mostly women/girls who were stressed beyond all reason. within a couple of minutes of waiting, roman's jokes came out. first he started just saying ridiculous things to me. then he proceeded to say it to the people close to us. before we got into the building he was yelling things to the group such as "oh don't worry guys. Thomas Monson just called me...they're letting us in!" or "guys...if the church is true...they're going to let us in!" although we got nothing but extremely bewildered looks from this group of distressed women, we laughing so hard tears were streaming down our faces and we proceeded to giggle through the entire performance.

roman had a love of music that inspired everyone he met. i've always had what i like to call a "wide variety of musical interest" but others lovingly refer to it as "weird music taste." nothing was too weird for roman though. he was always showing me all sorts of bands. it didn't matter how obscure something was or how embarrassing it might be that i loved a particular artist or band, he didn't care. i remember the first time he played the guitar for me. despite the limited use of his left arm he was phenomenal. after our mini concert we sat there on the couch and just talked and a little while later his family's cat, reese's joined us. when i noticed her and asked him about her he said to me "that's reese's. sometimes i let her eat my earwax." my initial reaction was to laugh hysterically at him and obviously be grossed out, but he wasn't kidding. he proceeded to poke his finger into his ear, wiggle it around, and then hold it out to reese's. and she licked it. then he invited me to try, so i poked my finger in my ear, wiggled it around and held it out to her and she licked my finger too. i know most of you are probably thinking this is weird and disgusting. and honestly, you're right, it really is. but i hope all of you can think of a friend you have who you were so close to that it didn't matter how weird you or your interests were, they just loved and accepted you for everything you were. i also hope you can all think of a friend who's company you enjoyed so much that you could sit on the couch together and feed a cat earwax and have a good time, and if you can't i hope you one day find someone like that. also for any animal rights activists who just read that, as far as i know reese's is just fine and living a normal and healthy life.

as i'm growing up and starting to get little bits and pieces of what this life is all about i'm starting to realize a couple of things. 1-life is really hard. it just is. it hurts and it pushes us down a lot, but 2-if we take the time to be still and to listen we will be guided to the things that are best for us and we will be able to face anything that comes our way with our heads held high. this year has been a particularly trying one for me. i've had to learn many difficult things. i've been stretched in ways i didn't even know were possible. as this spring turned into summer i found myself seriously reevaluating my life and the people in it. i remember making many decisions and eliminations. i remember moments of loneliness greater than i had ever anticipated. i also remember having my eyes open to the things and people who mattered very most. i had been very preoccupied and busy with my own life all fall and winter of the previous year and i found myself stopping in my tracks and deciding it was time to make my priorities the right priorities. there were a lot of people very close to my heart who i was not spending enough time with. roman had been there for me 110% every year of my life since jr high and in the past months i had been busy and not taken the time to see him as i should have. so this summer i changed everything. the way i thought, the way i saw others, the way i spent my time and the people i chose to spend my time with. though i was working 3 jobs i made time to see roman regularly. having not seen him since his last haircut the previous winter i instantly noticed a difference when he came to get his haircut one day this summer. it had gotten long and he asked me to cut it all off. i feel like every haircut was a debate because i always loved his long, luscious locks and every so often he'd chop it. this time was different though. as we chatted through his haircut he invited me to go with him to lake powell later in the summer. i knew i wouldn't be able to get work off but i asked him if i could go the next year. he told me he wouldn't be here next summer and he got this mischievous little grin. confused i asked why, and he tried to play if off as not being a big deal but he was seriously beaming as he told me that he had just turned in his mission papers that week. i don't know if i've ever been so proud of or excited for anyone in my entire life as i was that moment covered in hair and products with my jaw dropped (he was really good at that.) and of all the things i am grateful for as i think about the last year of my life i am so very grateful that i took the time to be still and realize how important priorities are so i could have some of the greatest moments with my dear friend while he was still here.

as the summer continued we had all sorts of adventures. i will never forget all of the fun things we did. everything from movies to scrabble nights and for some reason we'd always get dinner at the olive garden. during some of my hardest days up to that point in my life roman was so happy and brought so much joy to me. shortly before the 4th of july, my favorite holiday, i got a text message asking me if i wanted to go see the beach boys with him. he made yet another bashful comment about not having a date, and feeling more single and lonely than i ever had i was happy to be his date again. i've had a lot of good 4ths of july in my life but nothing will ever match this years. the beach boys were so old i think most of them had walkers but they were so good. i will never forget singing every word of every song with roman (remember how we were both weird enough to feed a cat ear wax? we both have an insane love of the beach boys unlike most people of our generation) both of us with crazy grins on our face. i think we were the only ones in our section under the age of 70 to be honest with you. before the concert started roman started being silly like he did best and he started talking to all of the people around us about how excited he was to see the "beach boy." yes, singular. and as it got closer he kept chanting "beach BOY beach BOY" and all these cute couples who could be our grandparents kept trying to explain that it was a group, not an individual. pretty soon we were both chanting beach boy and they all just gave up.  we proceeded to joke about the fireworks exploding on the grass which really isn't funny but we shared the same weird, twisted sense of humor. and then we picked ashes out of each others hair as we headed home.

as roman's mission got closer i remember having a conversation where i started to tear up and i explained to him that through all my life changes and everyone else coming and going and growing up and getting married he had always been there for me and i didn't know how i was going to do it without him around. he was so optimistic and promised he'd always be there to support me and be my friend. i remember planning our last hurrah before he left. naturally we went to the olive garden because that was our go to place and then he taught me to play chess. over dinner we just chatted like we always did, only this time he told me there was something he had never told me that he wanted to tell me before he left. i had always known how much he loved audrey hepburn. we had many a conversation about how i adored her and he was in love with her. as we ate dinner he told me that he had always thought i looked so much like her. he told me i was his audrey hepburn since the real things was, well, you know, dead and he told me i was classy and kind like her too. although i feel like that was a bit of a stretch, it meant so much to me. from minute one of friendship roman always let me know how beautiful he thought i was. it is something that i don't always feel on my own without help but he saw me through eyes that no one else ever has and engrained a confidence within myself that i will keep with me as long as i live.

the last time i saw roman was just a couple of weeks ago. we just attended a high school play and chatted for awhile. nothing out of the ordinary. but i remember as it was getting late and he seemed really tired, i asked him if he wanted to head out and get to bed and he told me "no, i just want to be with you."  he was the greatest example of selflessness i have ever known. he always put the needs of others before his own. i will forever be grateful for his example in so very many aspects of life. he had the strongest testimony of Jesus Christ and exemplified him in his every day life. saying good bye is something i've always struggled with. it doesn't matter if someone is leaving for a day or a year it's hard for me. there are few people in my life who i've had to say goodbye to for an indefinite time. but as i've reflected on all of my great memories, and the many things this wonderful  man has taught me i have gained one of the greatest gifts of my life; a deep and true understanding that Jesus Christ rose again and because of his life and atonement i will be reunited with the ones i love. nothing brings me more comfort as i say goodbye for now to my silly, handsome, courageous and loving friend who knew my heart so purely and loved me so genuinely. there are people we have the privilege of meeting who come into our lives and they change us. they heal us and uplift us and understand us. they are the kind of friends that are not truly separated from us, not even by death. i know my sweet friend and his love and example will live on through all of the people he touched who are still on earth, including myself. and in the meantime he's continuing to make people laugh and enjoying many a chess game with the real audrey hepburn.



old soul.

i like the way looking at abstract art makes it easier to breathe.
and the way good music makes every inch of me tingle.
right down to my little old soul.

one time someone told me i have an old soul
i've thought long and hard about that one.
at first i thought that was a nice way of telling me i'm a boring, old grandma.
but now i get it.

sometimes i don't understand that old soul of mine so well.
it gets all jumbled up and confused.
sometimes sad and sometimes lonely too.

it feels the way no one else can until they're 92.
it sees the way no one else can until they're eyes don't work so good anymore.
it hears when there aren't even words to be said.

my little old soul, it remembers. it remembers without me sometimes.
when my body is tired and when my head aches
when exhaustion has worn me down to the bone:

that soul, it stops me
in the middle of the road,
in the middle of the night,
in the middle of the snow.

big fat flakes just fall on me as i stand in the middle of the road.
into my mouth.
into my eyes.
into my nostrils.
into my soul.

feeding me. feeding me with memory.
stopping me when i forget what it means to be alive.



poop gone right.

you know those times in life when you just feel like a big old bag of dirt?

nothing is going your way. it's like one crummy day after the next after the next. the bag of dirt days just keep on coming and coming. and each time you get back up,

you just get pushed down again.

i've been living those days. i've lived them before and i've gotten through them. it's just a different kind of dirt consuming me each time. and with each bag of dirt phase i find new obstacles. obstacles that i question i will ever be able to overcome.

it was in the midst of all the dirt, full of worms and too many minerals, probably some cow feces too that i found myself visiting my friend. the friend who i have always considered the dearest. during this visit we start watching funny youtube videos. because that's what you do when you're a nerd. you watch nerd videos on youtube and you laugh till you almost pee your pants. (and sometimes you even pee a little.) all of the sudden he shouts out "you've gotta watch this video! it's about a cat lady!" i immediately know i've seen it already. and i immediately start giving myself an internal pep talk so i won't turn into a baby partway through the video because what normally wouldn't phase me is enough to bring up instant tears right now. it's too much exposure to all the worms in this dirt. inside my head i'm thinking "self. it's okay. you will not die alone with your cat(s). you are not a failure. it doesn't matter that you haven't showered for way too long and you're sitting here in a beanie and your grubbiest sweats and the person who is supposed to love you the most is making you watch videos about crazy girls who love cats too much because it reminds him of YOU. it's okay self...it's okay..." so we get through the video. i pretend i think it's funny. cause it kind of is. when you're intoxicated from either substance or lack of sleep. maybe it's semi funny if you're in the best mood of your life. maybe. then he looks at me and says "i've been thinking you should sign up for an eharmony account! it might be really great for you! you could find someone who loves cats just like you!!!" that's it. that hit just the right spot. or should i say wrong spot. i pretend to be mildly amused. really i was dying inside just a little. really? at 23 years old i have sunken to that? so i've dropped out of college. so i work way too much. so i'm single. so i like cats. and other animals too. so sue me!

needless to say, i went home, curled up with my cat, shed a tear or two, and watched an episode of one of my nerd shows. a day or so goes by of this frustration. just more dirt and more worms. and just enough sighs to get by.

the next morning i wake up. i'm perfectly sore from my first run in way too long. that sore when it's not so excrutiating you can't even move, but when you first wake up you can feel it as you begin to stretch out. "oh yeah....i did my body some good yesterday. i will still be able to function today!...hopefully..." and as i stretch i begin to think. ENOUGH DIRT! i am tired of all of this. of all these feelings of failure. of not being content. or happy. of cat comments. eharmony suggestions. of all of it. I AM IN CHARGE HERE. and so i get out of my bed feeling renewed. nothing is going to stop me....

and then i get up and i step in poop.

something has recently pooped on my floor and i say recent because it smells and feels nice and fresh and it's squished ALL over my foot. as it all sinks in my eyes start to fill with tears. my lip quivers for a second. this is the point where normally i would just slump to the ground with my back against the closest wall and my poop covered foot just sitting there and then i would sob. but something clicks in my crazy little brain. nothing is going to stop me. i've been giving myself these mini pep talks for weeks now. constantly reminding myself that it will be okay. that i can accomplish anything if i want it badly enough. and in this moment, my eyes still full of tears, my hair in a fuzzy asian bun, nastiest sweats, no bra, full fledged morning time scary, feeling more vulnerable than ever, and with my foot covered in something's poop all the rage of the world feels my tiny being and i yell "IT'S GOING TO TAKE MORE THAN A TURD TO STOP ME!!!!" i was even shaking my fist in the air. all animals and humans within view/ear shot were probably scared for their lives. i would've been. i've seen my reflection in the morning when i'm not feeling all kinds of fury and determination like i've never felt before and i was afraid.

nothing will stop me.

i've been pushed down one too many times. i've been stopped. dumped. rejected i've let myself feel inferior time and again. and this time i've had enough. i'm ready to take charge. no more bags of dirt. okay, so i totally anticipate that every so often i will have a bag of dirt day. but no more bag of dirt phases. no more. not again. and no more worms and unwanted minerals and things that keep me down in all this dirt. no more. it's time for something new. something better. something less dirty. (get it? ha.)

this awkward little nerd is ready. and i've got an army of cats to back me up....i sure hope the world is ready for us.

by the way, both my foot and the carpet were sanitized. for anyone who reads this and then comes to my house: you don't have to be afraid to take off your shoes. i also have most definitely NOT set up any online dating accounts. nor will i ever. no matter what anyone says.

and one last thing: some days you just need to wear a fishtail braid. it's good for your soul.



sunday night blues.

every week this strange thing happens:

after all the work is done. clothes are washed and put away. bed is made. adventures have been had. enlightenment is complete. nap time is over. dinner is done. and dessert is too.

that's when it happens.
that's when you start feeling the blues.

those sunday night blues. they leave you shuffling around your house in your slippers and sweats. eating things you don't even like. wallowing around in the bewilderment of boredom.

you've napped so long you aren't even tired, but the minute you pick up a book you're ready to nap some more. for fear of not being able to sleep when it's time to sleep and being a zombie at work the next morning you just avoid books all together. so you browse netfilx. although you've spent a half hour browsing, nothing is worth a half hour of your time. so you turn to more shuffling and more munching.

and as you shuffle and munch and plop your bored self down on your bed you start thinking too much. about all those things that make you so blue. the things you avoid thinking about all busy week long. so you munch some more in hopes to feel a little bit better. and then in the depths of your blues you start to find something within yourself...

a spark. that feeling when you have had enough. when determination is born. you'll show all those people who make you so blue. you'll even show the whole box of oreos and the entire bag of salt & vinegar chips you just consumed. and you get some kind of strange idea...

these ideas aren't the same ideas as normal days. it's sunday night. you're still semi-sleepy. in recoup mode. it's different. you are going to leave your house to climb everest for pete's sake. within the comfort of your own little space, be it a home, a room, or a little card board shack something great will happen. not the great that people think of initally. the great where simplicity and creativity make love and give you a moment of true contentment; a genuine breath of fresh air.

and the funny thing is, when it's all said and done, you start to look back and those sunday night blues are some of the few moments you hang onto long after they're gone. i can't remember what i've done on the majority of holidays past. i can't even remember most of my birthday celebrations. but i promise you with all of my heart that i can remember nearly all of my sunday blues turned sunny.

lets be honest guys, it doesn't get much better than too many solitare games with your favorite deck of coke themed cards on your bedroom floor, more mexi-cokes than you'd like to admit to, and louis armstrong to keep you company... now does it?