tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35357302512530449092024-03-21T06:49:15.661-06:00head shark nebulacailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-82547165174127556812014-03-07T17:37:00.001-07:002014-03-07T17:37:16.324-07:00love 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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: <br />
<br />
a long awaited love.<br />
<br />
a love that is found in big gray eyes that look into my own, all the way down into the depths of my soul.<br />
<br />
a love that is seen in beautiful smiles that melt me inside.<br />
<br />
and matching messy hair. <br />
<br />
this love is the sound of giggles that run so long they become slightly hoarse. and they keep on running. <br />
<br />
a new found love that only brings the kinds of tears that come from overflowing joy. <br />
<br />
maximum simplicity.<br />
<br />
adoration. <br />
<br />
effortless sacrifices.<br />
<br />
forehead kisses on a naked face. <br />
<br />
a love that is everything but self-indulgent.<br />
<br />
this love sometimes leads to the macarena on the tampon isle of smith's at 12am after a long day.<br />
<br />
other times it leads to silence and comfort.<br />
<br />
it's raw. it's real. it's perfect. it's shocking.<br />
<br />
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:<br />
<br />
" '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.'<br />
<br />
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."<br />
<br />
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!<br />
<br />
if you have not found this love i speak of, i hope one day you find it.<br />
<br />
i hope it washes away the hurts and doubts of all the imitations you've endured along your quest.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
i hope it is so real and so pure it scares the shiz out of you for a minute, or two. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
because, as for me, i feel like the luckiest girl in the world. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>ce♥
<br />
<br />
<br />cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-68761670450985488652013-10-29T14:05:00.001-06:002013-10-29T14:05:49.241-06:00Midi-chlorians & Musical Prisms<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in another universe, far away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">there's a thing that makes a world go round.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a thing to which we're bound,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">like a soul-feeding, harmonious sound...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">surrounding and penetrating, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">texture and silence;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">mentality enhanced by a deep hypnosis.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">light changing speed, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">with the hum of a saber.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Transparent reflection in a chosen favor;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">nobility in labor...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the master's strength flows</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">with rhythm and might. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the pupil prepares for a life changing fight;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a dynamic, eye-opening, new sight!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">one is chosen:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">polished perfection,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">melodious creator through which life flows.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">like the speed of light,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a star burns bright</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">marking the end of a night.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">untouchable, soul-melting source,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">sensitivity of course;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">may you have the force. </span> <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>ce♥cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-82110295673877353462013-10-11T14:01:00.001-06:002013-10-11T15:52:24.640-06:00autumn time ramblings. <div style="text-align: center;">
carson always knows just the things to tell me. on monday he emailed me and told me:</div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
"don't just survive...thrive!"</h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">lately i've felt like a stranger in my very own life. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">i crave familiarity, consistency, a sense of belonging. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">i don't even feel like me and i don't know where to find myself again.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> i have pieces and i get glimpses, but i don't know how to keep them</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> and patch them back together. i'm in this strange limbo</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> i can't seem to pull myself out of. a place </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">where i long for the absence of the sting of tears. they come too frequently</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> and at all the wrong times. the same place where i grasp to</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> those tender things so close to my heart. so deeply rooted </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">to lose them might shatter my entire being; </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">finish off the total existence of my fragile soul. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">i don't know how to talk or be or move or think. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">familiar things feel funny, and unfamiliarity feels unbearable.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> the chaos of too many rushed goodbyes and early hellos</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> has left me exhausted at best. early mornings and awkward smiles. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">too many situations where i leave wanting </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">to scream and shout what i'm all about. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">if only all these strangers, all these </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">familiar-faced, no-named, passers-by </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">in this unfamiliar world could peer into my little broken soul.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> if only they could see my spunk. my worn out sass. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">that quick wit that can charm the world </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">one laugh at a time. those twinkling eyes with an honest surprise</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> and that ferocious mane of wild red hair. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">unstoppable ambition, contagious charisma, a hunger for life </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">with a dash of adventure. they'd see it all</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> despite it being in shambles. they'd see what was, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> what can be, and gently they'd help me nurture it back </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">to strength. after so much time </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">of simply surviving i'll begin to start thriving. </span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">only where to begin? </span></h4>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">i guess i'll start here. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>ce♥</div>
</div>
cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-61941074229296887282012-12-16T18:21:00.000-07:002012-12-17T16:03:40.550-07:00we 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
ce♥ <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-32979769206421414792012-03-06T13:49:00.002-07:002012-03-06T16:51:30.883-07:00old soul.<div align="center">i like the way looking at abstract art makes it easier to breathe.<br />and the way good music makes every inch of me tingle.<br />right down to my little old soul.<br /><br />one time someone told me i have an old soul<br />i've thought long and hard about that one.<br />at first i thought that was a nice way of telling me i'm a boring, old grandma.<br />but now i get it.<br /><br />sometimes i don't understand that old soul of mine so well.<br />it gets all jumbled up and confused.<br />sometimes sad and sometimes lonely too.<br /><br />it feels the way no one else can until they're 92.<br />it sees the way no one else can until they're eyes don't work so good anymore.<br />it hears when there aren't even words to be said.<br /><br />my little old soul, it remembers. it remembers without me sometimes.<br />when my body is tired and when my head aches<br />when exhaustion has worn me down to the bone:<br /><br />that soul, it stops me<br />in the middle of the road,<br />in the middle of the night,<br />in the middle of the snow.<br /><br />big fat flakes just fall on me as i stand in the middle of the road.<br />into my mouth.<br />into my eyes.<br />into my nostrils.<br />into my soul.<br /><br />feeding me. feeding me with memory.<br />stopping me when i forget what it means to be alive.</div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtqwM0EBdYfu7XMtBP9BhcNSTAZYpD55ZIqyhXk-PKVmn_kO2Iz10laLnTy90rQ9-Jo40tUd4ekzQsqYrCSWydG7uubeONOP5k4_E_caypc6WJTrCjeA1BI6G2Ig_BcXfthYk3o2UBOY/s1600/art.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 261px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716889088807131922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtqwM0EBdYfu7XMtBP9BhcNSTAZYpD55ZIqyhXk-PKVmn_kO2Iz10laLnTy90rQ9-Jo40tUd4ekzQsqYrCSWydG7uubeONOP5k4_E_caypc6WJTrCjeA1BI6G2Ig_BcXfthYk3o2UBOY/s400/art.jpg" /></a></p>ce♥cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-71555285979558079402012-02-27T10:03:00.004-07:002012-02-27T15:00:49.752-07:00poop gone right.you know those times in life when you just feel like a big old bag of dirt?<br /><br />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,<br /><br />you just get pushed down again.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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....<br /><br />and then i get up and i step in poop.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />nothing will stop me.<br /><br />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.)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />and one last thing: some days you just need to wear a fishtail braid. it's good for your soul.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLOMvTtG61dWPEZxMF5kHxW9PW9TEzjwwnpGkHboDkkcmfEXd7GuZ8lwV5zFq9YNnJO_n-WGBd1giYlK65FJANLmErQ5qBD0bmSDndyAXXDLnsQb1IIVa2T8KCs3MZ-cRi2PM5ZHe1VM/s1600/tnfishtail.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713933630311188674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLOMvTtG61dWPEZxMF5kHxW9PW9TEzjwwnpGkHboDkkcmfEXd7GuZ8lwV5zFq9YNnJO_n-WGBd1giYlK65FJANLmErQ5qBD0bmSDndyAXXDLnsQb1IIVa2T8KCs3MZ-cRi2PM5ZHe1VM/s320/tnfishtail.jpg" /></a></p><br /><p align="left">ce♥</p>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-59096297444925631842012-02-20T10:41:00.005-07:002012-02-21T09:59:24.052-07:00sunday night blues.every week this strange thing happens:<br /><br />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.<br /><br />that's when it happens.<br />that's when you start feeling the blues.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />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...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4AaIlk1xbOFmwyZVv-FtthTrLQkfa3xD-LfYdorUJEmVcoz0ZRDlsUDUui52n03FkE54489Ap6htbywMOOBFeKH3ctqR9971LGCJUfIC2Aki_h660UiDtEWg4K5R3Lthh2a0HHqjflA/s1600/tnsunday6.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711301138777854194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4AaIlk1xbOFmwyZVv-FtthTrLQkfa3xD-LfYdorUJEmVcoz0ZRDlsUDUui52n03FkE54489Ap6htbywMOOBFeKH3ctqR9971LGCJUfIC2Aki_h660UiDtEWg4K5R3Lthh2a0HHqjflA/s320/tnsunday6.jpg" /></a></p><br /><p align="left">ce♥</p>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-16786952241430561232012-02-17T12:27:00.015-07:002012-02-17T17:03:14.336-07:00defined.<div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiyz7A3-1lCYNKVar1gYGPEYOVliegCDhn0xQhlHBHR7hD60rjkElo12756kF74NAomW2SM0oAIDB5oL0zgeb8eN-L4OPr0qyxZI5pvxBYcR0Q1x7PJqSZPabhed4wRPP1Q_InC1aT5Nk/s1600/tnpaint.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710252930053627202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiyz7A3-1lCYNKVar1gYGPEYOVliegCDhn0xQhlHBHR7hD60rjkElo12756kF74NAomW2SM0oAIDB5oL0zgeb8eN-L4OPr0qyxZI5pvxBYcR0Q1x7PJqSZPabhed4wRPP1Q_InC1aT5Nk/s320/tnpaint.jpg" /></a><br />fresh (adj.):<br />1. recently made, produced, or harvested.<br />2. imparting vitality and energy.<br />3. with restored energy.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZU872vsFk_j_1i29KObloIgund5cN8OpvGufXzSgpfc5n3MjtEcxfTjrS8s5T42JWX393bNpw6H6YTmhR6jNCwCe6494xsp2W4XJ-Deql0_jRL-bZtT8IGvhGmRqlKL1LLh4YlElN3QI/s1600/tncoke2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710251392240075202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZU872vsFk_j_1i29KObloIgund5cN8OpvGufXzSgpfc5n3MjtEcxfTjrS8s5T42JWX393bNpw6H6YTmhR6jNCwCe6494xsp2W4XJ-Deql0_jRL-bZtT8IGvhGmRqlKL1LLh4YlElN3QI/s320/tncoke2.jpg" /></a><br />familiar (noun):<br />1. having mutual interests or affections; of established friendship.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVfkV3Rl7kOiHG-E6OFZgyF4nweK3YVaI5rSzUY3syy7qndBcQ2xefy2lMByby-3Fj8q3_DTHlfDMKDRC4AOMKvAr1YYQhAKnd4yzI7FLgXuu0If4CTTcBkqzYtmp6eQdtNs7nJQx0UM/s1600/tnpostits.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710250863663752914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVfkV3Rl7kOiHG-E6OFZgyF4nweK3YVaI5rSzUY3syy7qndBcQ2xefy2lMByby-3Fj8q3_DTHlfDMKDRC4AOMKvAr1YYQhAKnd4yzI7FLgXuu0If4CTTcBkqzYtmp6eQdtNs7nJQx0UM/s320/tnpostits.jpg" /></a><br />quirk (noun):<br />1. a strange attitude or habit.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKHvx3JfyOcxZ8MRFd5XnqT3L_2k4-j_jvsBMEoJXCSrQ6RMLPfD6lRFP3oU-xA0sJdHQVNlLHevC6A9kWliOhsssHKncBN8-0jRppYYvVItdxmiKsv40p4j1KbD70jAR5qv7yetGt6Q/s1600/tndaph2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710239954262495938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKHvx3JfyOcxZ8MRFd5XnqT3L_2k4-j_jvsBMEoJXCSrQ6RMLPfD6lRFP3oU-xA0sJdHQVNlLHevC6A9kWliOhsssHKncBN8-0jRppYYvVItdxmiKsv40p4j1KbD70jAR5qv7yetGt6Q/s320/tndaph2.jpg" /></a><br />endearing (adj.):<br />1. lovable especially in a childlike or naive way.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWbAz0PCSJ-uC2watcNcb8TX8Z_htVklKYQRnOgjN3cfP5zhmR4uU3mcakzuDGGCKbx1KUlnqNbPhlg-JasWFBqu3NqpuxjM1gBubQo8m6ev7RauWNZhD0koF8ONylJoNnQq35IjsE94/s1600/tnboots.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710241943598142434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWbAz0PCSJ-uC2watcNcb8TX8Z_htVklKYQRnOgjN3cfP5zhmR4uU3mcakzuDGGCKbx1KUlnqNbPhlg-JasWFBqu3NqpuxjM1gBubQo8m6ev7RauWNZhD0koF8ONylJoNnQq35IjsE94/s320/tnboots.jpg" /></a><br />gumption (noun):<br />1. sound pratical judgement.<br />2. fortitude and determination.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1l1FxDn6lbKvBXjZk1bfku_u3D1L040WSLX_JflYZ-xylkGg9UfbHWG2IbH5JFZPAE9AwjPXyDP_YdIt8CuaTZj_Wj47dH0FO8VjIG3D_EyY6zG2-vLeWRqOXRCh6BkcI_dmHTM6_6Cc/s1600/tneye.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710249059335865250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1l1FxDn6lbKvBXjZk1bfku_u3D1L040WSLX_JflYZ-xylkGg9UfbHWG2IbH5JFZPAE9AwjPXyDP_YdIt8CuaTZj_Wj47dH0FO8VjIG3D_EyY6zG2-vLeWRqOXRCh6BkcI_dmHTM6_6Cc/s320/tneye.jpg" /></a><br />sencerity (noun):<br />1. an earnest & sincere feeling.<br />2. the quality of being open and truthful; not deceitful or hypocritical.<br />3. a quality of naturalness.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjvcCkCMxcJkRG7FAY62VSeC7i_Ru-S9T_pQ5e8otRiFJA2-jTkp-KEjTbEnxg_PIbRbnxlekKcETgxESDR9HY_xhKX6FeyWBbjOvOk1oM0vjYWaq3dVZON9WpZg0w7O5B2KHyvYK6hkc/s1600/tnuke3.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710249336974255122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjvcCkCMxcJkRG7FAY62VSeC7i_Ru-S9T_pQ5e8otRiFJA2-jTkp-KEjTbEnxg_PIbRbnxlekKcETgxESDR9HY_xhKX6FeyWBbjOvOk1oM0vjYWaq3dVZON9WpZg0w7O5B2KHyvYK6hkc/s320/tnuke3.jpg" /></a><br />soulful (adj.):<br />1.full of or expressing deep emotion.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmY3oC9EhB4D2a7WdElvhcht4N2LP73rq1xs3BpIShO2YSaWmBv9wKJflndWYWr0cIToq8nhUp1cOmKkVzgzhUW3glI4GgLSb3lDdBlhlffhw0p-lmKXIR1inGr4NSM5H8b6fvvl2d0I/s1600/tnbubble.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710240158798206690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAmY3oC9EhB4D2a7WdElvhcht4N2LP73rq1xs3BpIShO2YSaWmBv9wKJflndWYWr0cIToq8nhUp1cOmKkVzgzhUW3glI4GgLSb3lDdBlhlffhw0p-lmKXIR1inGr4NSM5H8b6fvvl2d0I/s320/tnbubble.jpg" /></a><br />naturally (adverb):<br />1. as might be expected.<br />2. according to nature; by natural means; without artifical help.<br />3. through ingerent nature.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_KXJ1UYm0kl8WXmc0Ry96en_LdWdW4mEqfz_zVVAQP7ag-fGSdTN7lih8303YOhPzWvgY6C3_WFO6rW7MWjQFMGQj55FNhNYZ-ucWXGfVazRfrun3LSi98fgywDIMCCj5yl8iVu2vIY/s1600/tnstarbucks.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710241581576082002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_KXJ1UYm0kl8WXmc0Ry96en_LdWdW4mEqfz_zVVAQP7ag-fGSdTN7lih8303YOhPzWvgY6C3_WFO6rW7MWjQFMGQj55FNhNYZ-ucWXGfVazRfrun3LSi98fgywDIMCCj5yl8iVu2vIY/s320/tnstarbucks.jpg" /></a><br />relief (noun):<br />1. a pause for relaxation.<br />2. a change for the better.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />ce♥<br /><br /><div align="right"></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-8776026355064287672012-02-16T12:13:00.014-07:002012-02-16T13:14:05.309-07:00ratty love.<div align="center">once there was a rat.<br />a little rat.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">with little teeth.<br />ratty teeth with all the right kinds of space.<br />8 year old space.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">this little rat had some sass.<br />enough sass to go around.<br />and around and around and around.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">there's only one thing that could compete with that ratty's sass:</div><br /><br /><div align="center">ratty imagination.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">thinking, creating, planning, inventing, schemeing.<br />until that little rat gets all pooped out.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">then she sleeps with those little paws tucked right under </div><br /><div align="center">her little ratty head.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">and then she'll wake up and do it again.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">she'll shower the world with her ratty sass,<br />and a some clever ratty love.<br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709827823959536882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQ_Pqi5e_VGm13AxvpURNx5ZnSFWzMnWQQo-BBVcIsRFmxODkW80L_kyo4KaQpbONOwwzpjJZ9F-AsC1XDhv90inw3dochptfA9FBnd4SBel_CSM8YUVYDdh3HYug1fp8kJOLr7gpK0E/s320/tnlion.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709824766545270722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0-9i9li7UfPl8Tr8TCOJ3W9xLEG3pyPPgcWv5QWBo8tdkndpVIbdJWxRWlht9ZohmjbTEG6fh55-wGkBYs10Ly-Yk6XFiqNflunFW9uNcGKmz6SQgjh7FWPWgZz5X8jbmRLKbN7miC4/s320/tnlion2.jpg" /><br />ce♥cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-3685673339465429772011-11-27T15:51:00.004-07:002011-12-06T15:51:55.754-07:00you want a little pick-me up, eh? well...here you go..once upon a time my sweet family moved into a little old house in orem utah. it was a hard change. together we carried out the ultimate home remodeling project. every time we thought it couldn't get worse, it did. but we lived through it, becoming better and stronger people with a beautiful home to life in. most of the house had been all fixed up but when last winter christmas came and we got busy and some of the projects were left undone. then my dad lost his job and they continued to be left undone. one of those projects is: the nasty bathroom. mauve carpet. hideous drapes surrounding the tub. and let's not forget: the absolutely awful wall paper. every inch of that room is covered in not one, but at least 2 layers, maybe even 3 layers of the worst wall paper. ever. one day my mom said "that's it!" she then got a whole bunch of sharpies, and we all started writing all over the ugly walls. it's been a few months and there are so many things written all the walls. using the toilet is a new adventure. who needs a book to read when you can just stare at the walls for hours! it's a great idea, really. i personally love reading the bits of inspiration, silly inside jokes, pieces of encouragement on a hard day. there have been multiple times i've plopped down on the pot, or lounged in the tub, after a long hard day and something has caught my eye bringing some tears and reminding me that life is going to be okay. <br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>i know i think way too much. i realized that a long time ago. as far back as i can even remember. but lately i've been thinking extra. life sure is hard, but it sure is wonderful. the word: contentment. it's just been flowing in and out of each and every one of my thoughts lately. what does it mean? where do we find it? why is it so rare? it's like gold. really. no one ever has it anymore. last night while i was getting ready for bed i spotted this written just to the side of the mirror, slightly above the toilet: "i will be a bit sad when this wall is gone. But, change is good, so enjoy the present for what it is. :)" i stared at it for a real long time. letting it just soak in. it's crossed my mind. my dad recently got a new and great job. eventually the bathroom will be made new. so will all those ideas and thoughts of what it's all about written by so many people i love so dearly. i've felt sad. i've toyed with the thought "maybe the walls aren't so bad..." then i look at them again. that's the thing though, very very few things in life last. everything gets old, tired, worn out. cars break down. clothes get holes. better opportunities come along. electronics break. pets die. okay that is kind of morbid, but they do. life is such a temporary thing. we do everything in our power to make it last. to cling onto things. i remember duct taping my last phone together. i don't know if that's because i was attached to it or if that's because i'm just stubborn and had no money, but still. one day my red hairs are going to turn gray. or white. or they'll fall out. my eye wrinkles right in the corners from all my years of laughing will multiply and deepen. my favorite boots will be long gone. all of the things that i protect and cherish will be gone. more than that i won't be working at my wonderful job. today i went on a walk with one of my dear friend. first "walk" i've been on since i broke my foot. it was so sunny and warm and there were still leaves for us to crunch. we talked about everything we felt like and just crunched leaves together. one day i won't get that anymore. so if there is one thing i could just scream, to all the world, at the top of my lungs, it would be to live. just live. experience everything there is to experience. feel the way it hurts when you fall rock climbing and break a bunch of the bones in your left foot. feel the way it feels to walk around for the first time in 2 months and get choked up every day when you get in and out of your bed without total exertion. take the time to notice how it feels when you hug someone you love. because someday you're going to take the time to notice how it feels when you can't hug them anymore. feel your fingers and nose go numb when you enjoy christmas time out side. because before you know it you're going to be feeling your sunburn after day one of the beach 2012. take time to notice little things in life. yesterday someone i love very much sent me the sweetest text message saying they had helped multiple people in wheel chairs at work. he told me "cailie i just want so run and jump around and just feel my legs and love them!" something along those lines. we started just thinking about legs. and how great they are. and we started cheering for them. and our arms too. they're pretty useful. take some time to notice the people who smile at you. the beautiful things in nature. isn't it great God loves us so much He didn't just give us life, He gave us an absolutely beautiful place to live it in. Yeah, we deal with a lot of crap. there are lots of sad things happening. life is hard. But it's only so we can appreciate the good. really. and boy, oh boy is there a lot of good.</div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-26507810354700955412011-10-19T22:55:00.003-06:002011-10-19T23:43:39.067-06:00the one with: angry eyes, drive-thru danger, and fancy japanese pajamas.normally when i get fed up with life i run. or rock climb. but seeing as how life has hit a particular low, creating a situation where i can't do either of those things, i am turning to the only other thing i know that will help.<div><br /></div><div>i've come up with all of the excuses and reasons in the world for which i'm not qualified to share my true thoughts and feelings. i've played around a little with this whole writing thing, but never really given it all. there's something about exposing it all that makes it real enough; raw enough to be something worth reading. i don't feel like my life, myself, or my thoughts are anything extraordinary. but in my mind the experience of life itself is something extraordinary. to have a body with so many intricate functions that work so exactly, separately and together, to create "life" is extraordinary. technology, all of our conveniences, everything that works with our minds and bodies and add up to life....that is extraordinary. so why the heck not give it all and share it all? i mean...within some kind of reason. i don't want to be murdered or terminated or anything like that. so, here we go...</div><div><br /></div><div>i am a secretary. sometimes i like to be fancy and call myself an administrative assistant. makes it sound like more of a "real job." i guess i'm also an office manager as well. found that out yesterday. its all the same thing though. imagine pam from "the office." i've even got the red hair. i like to think i dress better, but i don't have a jim. guess we just can't have it all. so there are these 4 lawyers who share the building with my company. i don't actually work for the lawyers, but i like to think we're buddies, and ultimately i alert them when their clients are waiting. having done this for a few months now, i've decided that all red-necks have a lawyer. and so do all crazy people. and most of the time you get both of those things all in one scary little package. today this couple came in. leaned on the desk that says "DO NOT LEAN ON THIS DESK" and let me know they needed to talk to their lawyer. the problem is i didn't register that for a minute because i was too busy being traumatized by the bra-less woman with a very see through shirt on, the man with missing teeth, not tooth, teeth, and the strange smells coming from both of them. oh man alive. i can understand that when you're dumb and you don't take care of your teeth they fall out. and they also don't grow back. and it's a crying shame but that's life. but, what is with women thinking it's acceptable to run around bra-less? news flash: it's not. no one wants to see your big saggy boobs hanging down to your belly button in a shirt that has been worn so thin you might as well not wear anything. bra's aren't expensive! please. this is a plea to all women, everywhere: WEAR A BRA!!! for the sake of all eye-balls and souls. wear a bra. my family refers to naked boobs as "angry eyeballs." all angry eyeballs should be kept in their safe little homes. i don't care if your homes are polka dotted or nude. i don't care if your homes are so big i could fit my head inside. i don't even care, just put them away. those angry eye-balls made my eyes go extra big and i instantly moved on to the next duty of my day: the "get everyone in the office their lunch" duty. </div><div><br /></div><div> i will admit i am a lazy individual. i love drive-thrus. wait, back-up. i have a love/hate relationship with drive-thrus. i hate yelling into the speaker. it makes me feel so awkward. especially when other people are in the car, and ESPECIALLY when english is not the first language, or a language at all, for the person on the other end. but i love avoiding the hassle of parking, walking in, collecting food, walking back out, backing out of a parking lot, etc. well today i'm like sweeet!!! drive-thru lunch order. having escaped two extra angry eyeballs i was feeling relieved. i order the sandwiches. wait patiently as they are made. pay for them. the man hands them to me. i look away from the drive-thru window for a split second to set the bags down on the passenger seat. instantly glance back because THE DRIVE-THRU EMPLOYEES ARM HAS GOTTEN STUCK IN THE LITTLE WINDOW. eye-balls almost pop out for the second time in an hour and hysteria begins. i couldn't even help it. first his arm is stuck. with assistance he gets it out. and then he's still screaming and holding it. and i'm in full fledge hysterical laughter in my car. he shoots me an angry look and i drive up just far enough to finish my laughter. have you ever seen such a thing?! it was so funny! i couldn't even stand it. </div><div><br /></div><div>fortunately when i got back to the office, mrs. angry eyes and her semi-toothless sidekick were gone. unfortunately i didn't have the receipt. and i was too ashamed of my total immaturity in the moment of a drive-thru emergency to go back and get it. </div><div><br /></div><div>several hours later i arrive home. enjoying some buttermilk waffles and reading and who strolls in the room? quincy. the greatest 7 year old alive. she's wearing these silky pajamas that button up the front, bananas in pajamas style. and as she struts in, she stops right in front of me and with all the pride her 7 year old self can muster up she says "these are my japanese pajamas....they're fancy...oh and by the way...if you want to find your special dessert you have to solve this riddle: i'm in the place where you sleep and i help you wake up in the morning...see ya!" and she strolls away in her "fancy, japanese pajamas."</div><div><br /></div><div>bet you can't guess where i found a pink sweetart that says "jump for me"</div><div><br /></div><div>who the crap puts that on a sweetart?! i thought sweetarts have "cutesy" phrases. jump for me?! what is happening to valentine's day! what is happening to this world!</div><div><br /></div><div>next concern: valentine's day was a long time ago. is this from quincy's "rat stash" or "hobo sack of trash?" yes those are real things in her life. and thus mine.</div><div><br /></div><div>morals of the story: 1-please wear a bra. or a bro. man boobs terrify me less though so if i have to pick one i pick bras, but both would be nice. 2-drive-thru danger is real. but if your lucky enough you'll experience it from the other side of the window. 3- there's someone in fancy, japanese pajamas out there leaving very old candy with sketchy messages on alarm clocks as a bed-time snack...how could life ever get better than that?</div><div><br /></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-21562731450917004272011-08-10T14:38:00.006-06:002011-08-11T14:15:44.267-06:00take it or leave it.<div style="text-align: center;">i like Polaroid pictures.
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> and i like to drink my soda from a can.
<br />i like to drive with my windows down.
<br />mostly because i like it when the wind plays with my hair.
<br />i like messy hair.
<br />i like peter pan.
<br />i like vintage things.
<br />sometimes i have to spit when i run.
<br />sometimes i have to spit a lot when i run.
<br />and i sweat a lot too.
<br />i get morning breath.
<br />and i have body odor.
<br />yet i'm a classically trained pianist.
<br />and i'm well read in classic literature.
<br />i know how to walk in heels.
<br />i can even do it naturally and with good posture.
<br />and i clean up alright.
<br />i know how to use proper english.
<br />in fact i always do.
<br />i have a problem of laughing at all the times that i shouldn't.
<br />so naturally i laugh at all the times i should.
<br />i laugh at immature things.
<br />i like sharing stories that are real.
<br />even the ones that speak of bodily functions.
<br />i feel like they happen and should not be hidden.
<br />i don't think that makes me rude.
<br />i know where to stop.
<br />i cry when i hurt.
<br />i cry when i laugh.
<br />the more i live the more the two are beginning to tie.
<br />i like to call that success.
<br />i can't make decisions.
<br />yet i know what i like.
<br />i have a temper.
<br />i'm the meanest softie there is.
<br />i blame my red hair.
<br />yes i've got a big flamin' ponytail.
<br />i've got the freckles to match.
<br />i always say sorry even if it takes me a minute.
<br />i grew up polite.
<br />i always say please and thank you.
<br />i know how to have table manners.
<br />it's just my clumsiness that gets in the way.
<br />i like fresh vegetables.
<br />i like to read.
<br />i like my job(s).
<br />i like chalky, callused hands.
<br />i don't mind scabs and bruises.
<br />i like proof that i'm alive.
<br />i like it when my cat bites my toes to wake me up.
<br />and i don't mind her hairs.
<br />i don't even mind it when she steals a taste of my ice cream bar.
<br />i like it when things are clean.
<br />but i don't like wasting time.
<br />i like flowers.
<br />i don't mind that they die.
<br />i like the way they make me love them while their here,
<br />because i know they'll be gone.
<br />thus, i like contentment.
<br />i like to sleep.
<br />but i don't like missing out on life.
<br />i like spontaneity.
<br />yet i like consistency.
<br />i like the idea of finding the child of the two.
<br />i day dream of traveling; amongst other things.
<br />i like words.
<br />i like imperfection.
<br />and most of all i like the people who can see past the "im."
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKR3PT_TPc4wM0cHSmGtV_Q8sF9hDuMKTwLJVRSIftmhHJi9Aqe1sv6tNYINGuHqBFJpvmP1s5FWsiw_tlE0Rd89euBQIIOS6uMTw1EutpKPwUUs2E5isSW8Ukedh0ikCHYo0QehrLx0/s1600/tumblr_kvomd4H4m31qzyw8go1_400.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKR3PT_TPc4wM0cHSmGtV_Q8sF9hDuMKTwLJVRSIftmhHJi9Aqe1sv6tNYINGuHqBFJpvmP1s5FWsiw_tlE0Rd89euBQIIOS6uMTw1EutpKPwUUs2E5isSW8Ukedh0ikCHYo0QehrLx0/s320/tumblr_kvomd4H4m31qzyw8go1_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639336334160915250" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br /></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-89520282401426190302011-04-24T20:44:00.003-06:002011-04-25T00:49:08.817-06:00think check.am i a writer or am i a thinker?<div>maybe the paper is magic. maybe i've got magic</div><div>brains. </div><div>"i like your brain." </div><div>well i like the days i wake up with a full breath of air. </div><div>hesitation, determination, clarification, modification</div><div>not much else to it. </div><div>sleep sigh sing sigh snip sigh sweep sigh smile sigh sun sigh see sigh</div><div>sea side?</div><div>oh if only.</div><div>sigh sigh sigh. </div><div>i think i've got a funny bone floating around in that brain of mine;</div><div>the one you like. </div><div>nothin but magic brains and magic jaws.</div><div>only the jaw wasn't magic. i don't remember what it was</div><div>already. to remember is to ______.</div><div>is it to hurt? to hope? to feel?</div><div>"i woke up this morning a funny taste in my head..."</div><div> it tastes so bitter...it tastes so...</div><div>sweet. Mmmm...bittersweet;</div><div>my closest companion. what shall it be today?</div><div>shall it be the same? or will today be different? looks like...</div><div>mystery is the flavor. sometimes i like the mystery; the murder-less kind.</div><div>but lately i'd prefer something with a little bit of murder that i can close</div><div>when i'm through and i open my eyes to real life:</div><div>one day it will be different. </div><div>do i want you to feel different or do i take comfort in you being just the same....</div><div>oh the beauty of silence the beauty of loneliness.</div><div>to be lonely is to be free. to be free</div><div>from that ventral tegmental beast...</div><div>but since when was lonely the good guy? </div><div>sure he's consistent. he'll keep you fed with his butter-less bread,</div><div>mundane routine dressed up all fancy as successful productivity</div><div>stability, reliability, dependability, security, rationality, solidity, safety, invincibility!</div><div>"we're only invincible as long as we're alive..."</div><div>invincibility is but a myth. so what more do we have</div><div>but to live? for what purpose:</div><div>fearless, selfless, generous, chivalrous, magnanimous, courageous...</div><div>let's meet halfway. give the soul</div><div>a break this time. take the steps one at a time.</div><div>goodbye slippery, hello calloused</div><div>little feet and stubby toes all my own.</div><div>peak out and see that crack of sun... feel the nibble then hear the buzz.</div><div>into the cage all skeptical uncertainty. it's a zoo</div><div>in there i tell you. in those places i don't understand i'll keep loving </div><div>the way you say good morning</div><div>"and you, take me the way i am."</div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-27579443756109946192011-03-01T21:23:00.009-07:002011-03-01T23:54:14.706-07:00a little j.wride and the good things in life.i live for the good things in life. the feeling of my stomach and heart meeting somewhere in my throat on a roller coaster. the feeling of the sun kissing my nose and cheeks while a spring breeze catches my breath and hair as i read harry potter and sip naked juice in my car on a spring afternoon with the windows rolled down. the sound of the crazy person in the movie theatre who laughs way too loud and sounds way too much like a farm animal. i live for scary hair and morning breath. for that smile that can only be found in an elementary kid's pre-braces mouth when i give them a sucker after their haircut. i live to hear my 8 year old neighbor yell "hey piano teacher!" while they're playing outside when i get home for work. i live to see my cat's big eyes staring at me the minute i yawn, stretch, let my eyes finish watering and greet each new day. really she just wants food, but i let myself think she loves me enough to wish me a good morning. i live to pick at the grass as i sit and catch up with old friends. a wonderfully awful habit. i live for hugs. yes that=90% of the time my nose meets a belly button in the process (yes the other 10% include my relatives who are as short as i am) but being a "navel nose" is not all that bad people. of all these things i live for that moment when sweet, sweet music seeps into my ears, oozes its way through my brain, pours into my little heart and then leaks into every fiber of my 4 foot 10 & 3/4 inch being until it completely overwhelms me and i take a deep breath and am forever changed. <div><br /></div><div>i grew up around many good things. thus the reason i live for them. but if any human walked up to me and asked me to name one thing that i would say defined my upbringing 3 things would come into mind: 1-"well....i want you to imagine the movie pride and prejudice....now modernize it..." 2-"okay got that...now i want you to add a little LOTR in there...i want you to imagine that a hobbit comes across an elf...but this elf is abnormally little....now they fall in love and make 5 elf/hobbit babies...all girls...." 3-"okay so you've combined the two....added a few mr. darcys....plenty of drama and lots of laughs...an outgoing mom, and shy dad shaking his head and smiling, making you wonder 'does this man love his life or hate it....i'm gonna go with love...look at that smile..." now i want you to put every inch of this scenario to music. and there you go that is my childhood. i can remember going to classical concerts with my piano teacher at age 8. i remember doing the dishes and singing along to u2 with the whole fam. i have this weird memory of climbing on the counter (still have to do that sometimes...shhh.) to get the cd cover for rachmaninoff's piano concertos played by vladimir ashkenazy which was blasting through the house and telling my mom as i pointed to old sergei, "that's what i want to be when i grow up." i was maybe a year into my music lessons. i remember watching ingrid michaelson play her uke, being completely speachless and going home and spending hours on my own that night. i remember hours of too much prince and too much falsetto. i remember sighing as i saw jason mraz live and watched him woo thousands of women all at once. i remember knowing queen and the beatles word for word before i even knew how to spell my own name. i remember the day my aunt and uncle gave me a bunch of john mayer's live cds for my birthday in the midst of my awkward jr high years and falling in love faster and deeper than i thought was possible. i love music so deeply and in so many ways it's gone and grown a brain of its own and i have no way to control it anymore. now go up and read that last sentence in the the first paragraph one more time. that my friends...that doesn't happen every day. but oh...how it happened when i heard my current band of the year, j.wride, release their new cd: indigo. </div><div><br /></div><div>i honestly cannot say enough good about this band and the music they are making. though i love and appreciate all music, i am not one to hand out unworthy compliments or recommendations. sometimes my clients will tell me their kid's names and i try not to visibly cringe and say... oh...how..neat. but when a client sits in my chair and can tell me their child's name and it is legitimately awesome, i'm sure my face lights up and i say something along the lines of "dude! way cool....tell me the story behind it..." j.wride, they are a good baby name. one that makes you want to name your kid after them. only in this case we are listening and falling in musical love. not having babies or naming them after bands. i just like analogies and i'm too creative. :) there are two ways i will share why i now love this band and why you should love it as well. 1-there's an acoustic version of one of their songs on my playlist below. in fact it's probably been playing this whole time you've been reading without you even realizing it. find it. listen to it. and listen to it again. is it not so good? 2-i love lists. every day i make several of them. specifically top tens. i love making top tens. so here is my top ten for j.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wride</span>....</div><div><br /></div><div>1-their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cd</span> release show was so CLASSY. though i love all music, every kind, every aspect....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">i've</span> got to say i never totally adapted to crazy shows full of smoke and mosh pits and obnoxious high/drunk fans. what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">i'm</span> getting at is i like me a nice, classy, live musical experience. the first thing i noticed about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mr</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">jesse</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">wride</span> and his band is they know how to put on a classy show. the listeners were excited but polite. the venue was nice. there were seats. great lighting. great sound. it was refreshing.</div><div><br /></div><div>2-The lead singer, Mr. Jesse <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Wride</span> is a pianist. and his piano skills are enough to make any girl weak at the knees. seriously people. i studied classical piano for 13 years and i was completely blown away.</div><div><br /></div><div>3-He also has a talking voice that is almost as attractive as his singing voice. i don't think <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">i'm</span> alone in loving great vocals. and...He wore a tie with his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">untucked</span> dress shirt. :) Maybe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">i'm</span> a girl and i notice the details too much, but i love musicians who can rock their own style and look good doing it.</div><div><br /></div><div>4-speaking of style Mr. Court <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Eccles</span>, the master of the bass, has amazing glasses.</div><div><br /></div><div>5-And Mr. Austin Anderson, with his phenomenal rhythm, wears a sexy buzz cut; trust me they're hard to come across. </div><div><br /></div><div>6-Jesse gave the best band introduction <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">i've</span> heard since Mr. Jason <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Mraz</span>. very creative. very impressive. </div><div><br /></div><div>7-Each band member is each so individually talented, yet when they play together, they play as one. I've learned that it's hard to find a good band. there are many good solo musicians who grab some people who know a thing or two about music and attempt at a "band." but in the end it's one really amazing soloist with a few mediocre musicians backing them up. thus building the musicians and ultimately taking away from the soloist. though <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">jesse</span> sings for the band and thus the spotlight may fall on him more often, he has two great men backing him up and all three of them take turns exemplifying their supreme skills on their individual instruments. in fact the music is written in a way that all musicians involved are...well...involved. </div><div><br /></div><div>8-to touch on the second part of the above statement... the part about them playing as one: as i watched them play i could see them constantly making eye contact and watching each other play. they were so together. no one was competing. no one was lost. making it the best experience possible for performers and listeners alike. </div><div><br /></div><div>9-as a lover of music and words both, were i to have to pick one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">i'd</span> pick to die because i couldn't live without either. i respect a musician who can write good lyrics. so very much. and j.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">wride's</span> got that down.</div><div><br /></div><div>10- as the years go by, i feel like we're experiencing the strangest combination of the music industry getting better and worse all at once. i feel that there are people who pretend to love music and somehow get on the radio and making millions with their garbage to the ears and a whole bunch of celebrity drama actually sustaining them. but i also know there musicians out there who are truly talented and continually learning from our heroes of the past and coming up with all kinds of new, creative and glorious things. real music involves beautiful melody, creative harmony, the right amount of musical twists to keep intelligent side of us humans on our toes, memorable patterns to get the songs stuck in our heads, the seasoning of many unique instruments working together to support and adequately portray each other's beauty. as i listened to this music live and on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">cd</span>, i heard beautiful string melodies, strong brass and bass, rhythmic drums and beats, crisp and clear piano solos and warm piano accompaniments. there were some songs that were upbeat and catchy, others that were solemn and serene. it's not a style i can classify or compare. it's something all its own. and it's something great. here's the place to hear more of it yourself: facebook.com/jwridemusic</div><div><br /></div><div>go have one of those breath taking, heart melting musical experiences; one of the best good things in life we get. i triple dog dare you...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-91118517759753059402011-01-03T20:53:00.004-07:002011-01-08T22:11:30.414-07:00best moments of 2010...<div>here's just a few of the things i never want to forget...</div><ul><li>the birth of the jedi braid</li><li>eating poptarts with cory smith in the lobby of supercuts</li><li>seeing 30 seconds of 30 seconds to mars</li><li>doing kenna's hair for her wedding</li><li>buying my uke</li><li>the first time i was able to strum it and make music come out without looking and feeling like i was having a seizure</li><li>rock climing with allie </li><li>being roomates with jen</li><li>that shopping spree with allie when we saw one too many awkward couples in victoria's secret and i bought my rose ring</li><li>seeing josh for the first time in 2 years</li><li>the day trip to ephraim when josh and i found the mexican taco man and many creepy things. left without a taco. left with one last unforgettable adventure.</li><li>cory's farewell</li><li>open mic nights with dave</li><li>scrabble night with cory (and mick)...lots and lots but never enough</li><li>eating more otter pops than i thought was humanly possible and watching an entire season of chuck with carrie and dan all day and night on the 4th of july</li><li>the roman themed murder mystery dinner-toga made out of a fitted sheet and many laughs included</li><li>ukulele duets with mama raptor...hours and hours and hours of playing our ukes.</li><li>yah poh with cortni and cade</li><li>FINDING DAPHNE</li><li>yellow wednesday shopping with aubree and nib... "sag sag"</li><li>all of my amazing target purchases</li><li>my first pair of toms</li><li>days weeks and months of writing the greatest pen pal in the world</li><li>making a sandcastle with kip at newport beach</li><li>easton's t-ball game "dad....i just want a sandwich!"</li><li>seeing how to train your dragon with dayna...we broke into a laughing fit that was so intense we almost had to leave the theatre.</li><li>having a similar experience with garrison when we saw the same movie. only we weren't laughing so much...mostly he was just turning into a 5 year old child again.</li><li>hiking/touring timp caves with brad dorner</li><li>seeing brad dixon, one of the greatest friends and examples i will ever have, fall in love and marry and amazing woman...and getting to be the one to do her hair on their special day</li><li>sitting in the front seat on splash mountain for the first and last time</li><li>passing my kidney stone</li><li>going to the nutcracker with daniel and my favorite little couple and giggling/sleeping off and on through the entire thing</li><li>sliding rock with cory and chaz</li><li>hiking the y on nib's birthday</li><li>finding all the home videos quincy has secretly been making</li><li>the ultimate home remodeling project</li><li>seeing ingrid michaelson live...literally having my heart melt a little and being completely inspired</li><li>meaningful talks with garrison till the sun comes up</li><li>grilled gourmet tacos at rubio's</li><li>peter pan by lehi jr. high school</li><li>getting a poloroid camera. finally.</li><li>inception</li><li>helping garrison work on his mustang</li><li>learning to solve the rubik's cube</li><li>disneyland with kip</li><li>listening to to kip giggle in the tiki room for the entire show. no joke. </li><li>learning what credit actually is</li><li>lake tahoe. every minute of it. will never ever get old. </li><li>cutting my mema's hair into a pixie cut</li><li>tickle/pillow fights with andrew</li><li>laying on the mini trampoline and star gazing and laughing with andrew for hours on end</li><li>getting my own car for the first time</li><li>eating ramen late at night and having discussions on the proper seasoning/water/noodle ratios with scott jefferies</li><li>re-reading harry potter and falling in love with it all over again</li><li>starting the microwave on fire with nib and scott. we all smelled like burnt popcorn for days. literally. </li><li>motab-featuring david archuleta with roman</li><li>the branbury in all its glory</li><li>eating j-dawgs at uvu with mick every wednesday</li><li>reading for one more day by mitch albom</li><li>rice king with my andrew (and sometimes jimmy)</li><li>watching daniel love chloe</li><li>listening to storey giggle</li><li>re-establishing my piano studio and having 8 wonderful little students</li><li>saying goodbye to lehi and making orem home</li><li>browsing barnes & noble for hours and most days walking out empty handed</li><li>creating the awkward blog</li><li>skinny dipping in lake tahoe</li><li>sunbathing and eathing subzero with allie for hours</li><li>going to color me mine with dayna </li><li>saying goodbye to dayna and knowing that her testimony will change houston, texas forever</li><li>all of the people and stories i had the privilege of knowing through supercuts</li><li>my first cheesecake factory experience. so good i dreamed about it that night.</li><li>my first time having roasted starbursts</li><li>swimming from the pier to campers beach at lake tahoe, thinking i was going to die, flopping onto the beach and then sleeping in the sun till i could breath and walk again</li><li>runing to muse</li><li>my turquoise ring</li><li>the epic birthday waterballoon fight</li><li>when allie could see again after i hit her in the eyes with a waterballoon</li><li>growing to love my gray eyes for the first time in my 22 years</li><li>falling in love with chuck bartowski</li><li>pulling all nighters because i can't stop watching chuck</li><li>oreos with milk. every night. all summer.</li><li>aubree and chase...those "tweety love birds."</li><li>"the reptile" (that ones for you nib)</li><li>hiking the g with dayna</li><li>boots. lots and lots of boots. </li><li>quesadilla's with alfredo sauce</li><li>wathcing simon, the sexiest british man alive, latin dance.</li><li>converse days</li><li>cafe rio dates with my mom</li><li>extremely inspirational ward conference</li><li>the day i met my friend steven and we jumped on the trampoline in the pouring rain in late october till i was soaked down to my underwear and my body was frozen and loving every minute of it</li><li>being itroduced to the music of mr steven stucki</li><li>listening to nib sing and play her uke</li><li>at least 365 asian buns</li><li>quincy and the dale hat</li><li>going shooting. the first gun i ever touched or shot was a machine gun. it made my whole body convulse. i screamed bloody murder. almost pooped my pants. i have vowed to never shoot a gun again as long as i live. </li><li>meaningful arguments and conversations with dre</li><li>watching kramer eat his moutian of lettuce everyday.</li><li>bum wars</li><li>crepe nights</li><li>fresca's</li><li>tender mercies.</li><li>jen and jeff's ukulele concerts</li><li>aubree in wheezerland</li><li>daniel aguilera's accent</li><li>all my dear friends and good laughs at progrexion</li><li>making sure all the people i love look goooooood.</li><li>fast food runds and unforgettable chats with dave</li><li>awkwardfamilyphotos.com</li><li>phony photos. best. game. ever.</li><li>laugh-crying.</li><li>deciding my calling in life: to write. </li><li>good cries with my dear friends ben & jerry.</li><li>the way kip man giggles at EVERYTHING</li><li>ending this year and starting the next with the 6 people i love the most. </li></ul>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-73637641913959591052010-11-26T19:33:00.004-07:002010-11-26T21:05:55.544-07:00gratitudei know i'm a day late but i still want to share a little bit of thanks. it's been on my mind for days i've just been too busy to get on here.<div><br /></div><div> i am grateful for....<div><br /></div><div>the alarm clock that wakes me up at 5:00 am each morning, because it means i get another day to live.</div><div><br /></div><div>waking up each morning with 3 cats and a dog in my bed, a terrarium with a turtle inside at the foot of my bed, and my little fish in its bowl on the nightstand next to my bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>the angry people who yell at me over the phone all day, because that means i still have a job. </div><div><br /></div><div>the people who are nice to me over the phone and who actually take 5 minutes to hear me out, because it makes me remember there are still nice people in the world; and i rethink the way i treat people.</div><div><br /></div><div>the way it feels when i sit down at a piano and my hands know what to do with all 88 keys like it's second nature.</div><div><br /></div><div>the woman who never had the opportunity to do that but wanted it so badly she sacrificed everything necessary to give it to me instead.</div><div><br /></div><div>knowing what it feels like to get a stomach ache from eating too much food, because it means i always have more than enough to eat.</div><div><br /></div><div>that cute, skinny, redhead with double jointed fingers who is the only person as weird as me who, loves me as if i were her own child and i honestly couldn't live without. </div><div><br /></div><div>sleeping on an air mattress for 3 months straight because now i actually appreciate my bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>my taped together, hand-me-down phone because it gets the job done day after day after day.</div><div><br /></div><div>the soldier in afghanistan who is constantly supporting every crazy idea i can come up with and who listens to all of my girly drama with the patience of a saint from the other side of the world and whom, through his quiet example, teaches me what sacrifice and faith are all about.</div><div><br /></div><div>putting 30 bucks of gas in my car on a weekly basis because it means i have a means of transportation.</div><div><br /></div><div>that beautiful blonde girl with impeccable taste, a sense of humor who touches all she meets and who makes my heart happy every single day.</div><div><br /></div><div>that feeling when i hit mile 3 of my run when it feels like i can keep going for ever, because it means i not only have legs that work great but the rest of my body is up and running...literally :) something i often take for granted.</div><div><br /></div><div>my own personal big foot who loves me unconditionally, who beats me in the face with a pillow or tickle tortures me till i laugh myself sick, who gives the best hugs on the planet when i need them most and who is continually encouraging me to be my quirky little self because he's seen me at my best and worst and knows what i'm capable of becoming.</div><div><br /></div><div>the little reptile who quietly munches on a bowl of lettuce bigger than his whole body and comes out of his shell to watch me get dressed every morning without fail.</div><div><br /></div><div>the manly, scratchy, hoarse voice i'm dealing with because for the first time in my life i'm appreciating the voice i was given. </div><div><br /></div><div>my adorable chief rat, with her awkwardly large teeth in her little giggling 7 year old mouth, with an attitude and ambition that the world should be prepping itself for. always making me laugh. always reminding me what i live for. </div><div><br /></div><div>every stupid boy i've ever thought i loved only to have my little heart crushed time and again, because it's made me better, stronger and made me love the boy who will actually get my heart all the more.</div><div><br /></div><div>stabbing contacts into my tired eyes each morning because it means my eyes still work and there's a way for me to see clearly.</div><div><br /></div><div>the all natural, polish dog loving, gorgeous brunette who cackles like a witch, who will always be my opposite in every way but will always be a great friend and example to me in ways she doesn't even know.</div><div><br /></div><div>all 5 of the females i have to fight over the one and only bathroom with, because i couldn't live my life without each and every one of them. or the bathroom. ha.</div><div><br /></div><div>beautiful music that tickles my soul 100 times a day. if not more. and the elf-like ears i use to listen with.</div><div><br /></div><div>that npr loving man who has provided everything i've ever needed for 22 years and counting and who, without a word, teaches me hard work, patience and humility.</div><div><br /></div><div>the ability to look at words and know what they mean without even thinking twice about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>the missionary serving in seattle, washington who has strengthened my testimony in ways he will never know and who i miss so very much; especially when i eat a pop tart or catch a glimpse of my jedi braid. </div><div><br /></div><div>the 1/2 inch of regrowth i have to color each month because it means i can still grow a full mane of hair. </div><div><br /></div><div>the teeny tiny girl with auburn hair and freckles that match my own who's got a sense of humor far beyond her years and who's quiet, calm presence creates a peace second only to heaven itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>picking up a comb and a pair of scissors and being able to help friends and strangers feel like they can face the world for another day.</div><div><br /></div><div>that boy with the crazy hair who i can text any time, day or night, who knows how to tease and to love just enough, who supports me through consistency and also supports my favorite fast food eating habits every time he's in town.</div><div><br /></div><div>staying home alone on a friday...because it gives me some time to think and recoup and knit and show my uke some love....and remember how much i love john mayer and his clever words and heart melting melodies.</div><div><br /></div><div>that little instrument with four nylon strings that makes my sad days sunny.</div><div><br /></div><div>the little black and white cat with crazy big eyes, a spot on her left nostril and a broken tail, who came and found me in a park one night....i thought i was doing her a favor by giving her a home and some food, but really she was helping me more.</div><div><br /></div><div>that imaginary boy with the lightning bolt shaped scar who has been my best friend through all of the awkward, lonely phases of life.</div><div><br /></div><div>the biggest perfectionist on planet earth who is always driving me crazy but always making me a better person through her unspoken encouragement and endless love. no person will ever love me like she does.</div><div><br /></div><div>crying till my head hurts because it means i'm learning something.</div><div><br /></div><div>laughing so hard my abs are sore the next day because that's what it's all about.</div><div><br /></div><div>that book i read each night, no matter how tired i am and even when i don't feel like it, when i'm sad and lonely, when i'm scared and trying to make a choice, when i'm happy and life's okay....always making life make sense.</div><div><br /></div><div>the person who loves me more than i will ever fathom, who gave the ultimate sacrifice in my behalf, who gives me a reason to hope, to live, to love, to work, to get up and try one more time each time i fall down, who is at my side to lift me when i no longer have the strength and who celebrates each of my accomplishments as if they were his own...my ultimate example and closest friend. </div><div><br /></div><div> knowing he's just a prayer away and he always hears me no matter what. <span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;">♥</span></div></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-68353770104409610872010-11-18T10:07:00.002-07:002010-11-18T11:22:39.010-07:00cause that's my skin....that's my skin....that's my skin...i've gotta get some of these words out of my soul before i explode.<div>i've been thinking a lot about life. </div><div>i do that a lot. but it's times like these that make me think even more than usual.</div><div>i've spent so many years trying to become what i like.</div><div>i've always wanted: curly hair. smaller hips. thinner thighs. bigger lips. darker eyes. more proportionate teeth. i've wanted to be a musician. i've wanted a voice to match the music in my heart. i've wanted to write music that will stop people dead in their tracks. i've tried to be charming and poised. to have flawless, tan skin. to dress just the right way. to like certain shows. and read certain books. i've attempted to be successful. to be the student. the hair stylist. the bum. okay so i never wanted that one but i sure tried it out. i've always wished i could grow just a little more. 4'11" isn't bad but 5'4" would be ideal. i've wished i could be healthy and eat the way i'm supposed to without brainwashing myself into it. to be able to dance. to not be the only female on the planet that still can't do a cartwheel. to not be so athletically challenged. i've spent hours dying and plucking and curling and waxing and running and reading and practicing and thinking...doing everything i could to become this image. </div><div>and then i snapped.</div><div>i lost it completely.</div><div>there were things that lead up to this melt down. different events i'd rather not get into. but last night i hit that end of the rope. i called my best friend and sobbed to her over the phone. i cried out my insecurities, my failures, my let downs. i let out all the hours of work that still left me empty. all of the people who have left me in the dust. i told her how, on top of this battle my life feels like it has fallen apart. how i've had to pick it up and start over and this is how the new start is turning out?</div><div>i don't know that i've ever been so lonely. with the exception of my family the only people who know my heart and understand what to do with it are: on a mission. on the other side of the world. ultimately too far away too much of the time. she comforts me. makes me laugh as tears and boogers are streaming down my face. she reminds me of the times in my life where i knew where i was going and who i was going with. as weird as it was it was so simple and natural...as it should be. that this is just a rough spot in the road. it'll smooth back out and get back to normal again.</div><div>then my sweet mom comes into my room and sees me crumpled against the wall. in the middle of a maze of boxes that are foreign but all my own. and she sits and cries with me for awhile. i will never forget all the times she has sat with me and let me just cry till i can't breath and i have two enormously swollen orbs for eyes. i'll never forget the times she's come in my room, crawled in my bed and just cried like my hurt is her own. because to a degree it is. that's what it means to be a mom. she picks up where cortni left off. she starts reminding me of who that person i've lost over the last couple of years is....and how she's going to make it in this crazy life.</div><div>i told you what i wanted to be. what i spent years trying to become. now i'll tell you what i am.</div><div>i have long stick straight hair. big hips and thick thighs. skinny lips that disappear over fat teeth when i laugh and clear gray eyes. though quite out of practice i'm a classically trained pianist. a wanna be on the uke. writing music has never been my think but i'm always singing my own tune through life. it isn't much to listen to but it matches me just fine. and i do a sick louis armstrong impression when my voice is tired. i'm awkward and nerdy. and while some girls pulled the papers out of the jar in heaven that said: sophisticated, sexy, poised, polite, smart, charming...i grabbed quirky. my first thought was probably "phew...glad i got the q AND the u...it's hard to play the q on the scrabble board without its best friend u...plus q is ten points!" then i came flying down to planet earth like that and i've been trying to figure out what to do with those letters since. but i still know that word could ultimately get me 66 points in scrabble, possibly more. so it can't be all that bad. my skin will always be pasty and freckled. my clothes will always be comfortably weird. someone recently told me i dress in a "bohemian" style. bohemian rhapsody is hands down my favorite queen song so i'm okay with that. i will always sit around watching the food network for hours thinking about how nice it would be to be able to make something like that and then i'll always shut of the tv and never do it. i will always love weird literature and laugh myself sick reading books written for children. i won't stop painting in my underwear till 3 am. and my art will forever be abstract because that is how my brain will always think. and i'll never learn to draw. i will start shrinking before i'll ever grow again. part of me will always be a bum. i'll always love animals, overly carbonated soda and anything coated in sugar and grease too much. the things i do best will never be showy....i won't have dozens of people to watch, to listen, fans to cheer. i won't have exhibits in my honor. i won't produce my own music. nor will i ever be able to throw or catch a ball. i will always avoid dancing like the plague for the sake of others as much as my own. but i know that words will forever come to the same way as breathing. i mold them in my sleep. while i play "good guys and bad guys" with my 4 year old cousin. while i exercise, drive, talk and work. while i sit here in my harry potter boxers, a t-shirt from my "ex boyfriend t-shirt collection" that is an awful shade of green, with poofy sleeves and that reads "i heart stockholm" a souvenir from the time in my life when i thought i was in love with someone who got to visit sweden, my hair piled up into the infamous asian bun, glasses with some hair spray and smudges from entertaining the 4 year old all morning, bad breath, no makeup, and my sassy little cat sitting on my lap getting ready to pounce on my flying fingers i know that this is my calling in life. now that i've got a grip on what i'm cut out to be....lets see what i can do with it. </div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-51719676077151818192010-03-23T21:50:00.002-06:002010-03-23T22:35:00.921-06:00i want to grow old with you.....dear husband,<div>it's me, cailie, your wife. i know we haven't met each other yet...but that's okay. i'm very small. sometimes people call me an elf. it's a rather legitimate assessment. other times dynamite....now don't get excited. that is usually in reference to my red hair and spicy attitude. but you love all of those things. even my attitude. that still is weird for me to think about. how you love me when i wake up in the morning with my bangs sticking straight up and my mascara is smudged all over my face because i'm generally too lazy to wash it off before bed and i've got my cute little retainer in my mouth with horrendous breath to match. i still don't understand how you love me even when i'm rude. and even when i do awkward things like farting in my sleep or practicing my opera in the shower when i don't think you're home. when i wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you something weird i thought of while i was laying awake and you were asleep so peacefully, you don't even mind....you even have ridiculous things to add... you love me enough to suffer through all of my weird passions...like 3 hour long symphony concerts, whole seasons of friends, shopping events that take an entire day, helping me rearrange the furniture just because i feel like it, carrying my massive purse proudly when i'm too tired, dumpster diving for my "art supplies" for me because you know i always get stuck in the dumpster, folding the laundry with me because you know that's the chore i hate most. you love all the weird art i hang all over our house, and all my writings that i read to you...or your good enough at pretending that you've got me convinced. if you're sweet and nerdy like chuck bartowski and you look kind of like him too i'm okay with that. you can also have the voice of jason castro/john mayer/jason mraz. take your pick. i'm okay with that too. you can pick everything else you're good and and you like...i hope you like some of these things though: long boarding,music,ukulele,rock climbing, road trips, the beach, disneyland, pillow forts, jamba juice,funny things, seinfeld, pets, traveling, yeah i could keep going for a long time but i think i'll stop there. you're kind of in luck...you've got a pretty sweet deal: free haircuts for life. that's right. i'll even learn to cut it just right. i'm a horrible cook. and not much of a homemaker. so i hope your okay with lots of ramen and cold cereal and my random home decor. i'll work on it. so life has been pretty hard lately. sometimes when it rains, it definitely pours. i'm okay with a little sprinkle...sometimes a nice little rain storm with some sunshine and a rainbow at the end. but this full on downpour is getting a little old. but here's the thing...it's making me a better person. i know it would be a lot easier to live through this particular storm with your help...but you're obviously lost or stuck in traffic or something... so i'm being patient. and becoming more of the person you deserve. and the kind of mother your children deserve. trying my best. i think it's working. a little. we will have adorable babies. i want one named max and another named ruby. you can name the other ones. just don't pick stupid names or i will veto them. yes...i have to grow them so i will get that power. my parents are currently just a few feet away from me...sitting in their pjs on the couch together, eating popcorn and watching a weird documentary on the discovery channel and talking about it. it's so sweet. they've been married for 20 some odd years. i want to say 24. and they still love each other as much as ever. someday we will be like that. someday we will grow old together and make the most adorable elderly couple that everyone hopes to be someday...but until then be happy. work hard. do good things. when your life gets hard....and you have no job, no food and your pets heads are falling off! or...you just feel a little more like harry and lloyd than you'd like...remember that i'm here too. and your in my thoughts and prayers through it all and more than you realize. come find me soon. i sure do miss you. </div><div>love, cailie. </div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-37686348440979482162010-01-05T00:21:00.003-07:002010-01-05T01:28:18.152-07:00disappearing pets are not the coolest.<b>current favorites:</b><br /><br />sudoku puzzles.<br />organization.<br />pink grape fruit tic tacs.<br />500 days of summer.<br />hempz lotion.<br />bangs.<br />john mayer.<br />yoplait yogurt.<br />leggings+boots.<br />writing haikus.<br />diary of a wimpy kid.<br />bronze nail polish.<br />book of mormon.<br />burts bees chap stick.<br />weekly planner.<br />chuck.<br />quiet time to lay awake and think.<br />scarves.<div><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">recent realizations</span>:<br /><br />i have two very extreme and rather irrational fears:<div><br /><div>1-lice. getting lice. seeing lice. lice in an way, shape or form. just the thought makes me itchy for hours. i even had a terrible nightmare that i had lice last week. i would rather get ringworm or something else gross. living organisms crawling around someone's hair and feeding of their fleshy scalp is enough to make me cringe and hurl all at once. <div>2-finding a hobo in a dumpster. every time i walk out to the dumpter to throw away all the bags of hair at work i get nervous to open the lid. i genuinely fear that someone crazy is waiting inside and they're going to either pop out and make me poop my pants, or grab me and pull me into the dumpster with them. and it doesn't help that someone has spray painted the word "parts" on the front of this particular dumpster. what kind of parts? sandwich parts...car parts...BODY PARTS.</div><div><br /></div><div>lloyd is gone forever. in hopes to cheer me up my mom got me a new frog who she named lloyd to go in my new fish bowl with lola, my fish. i put lloyd in his new home. fed him. watched a movie. checked on lola and lloyd and told them goodnight. woke up. got out of bed and walked over to the bowl. lola is swimming around like always but lloyd can't be found. i clean out the bowl. lloyd is definitely not in it. i deep clean my whole desk and shelf area. lloyd is not alive or dead and crispy anywhere. days have gone by. still no sign of lloyd. i know you're thinking lola ate him. but there is absolutely no way she could kill and eat something as big as her without leaving any evidence (i.e. a leg or an arm floating at the top of the bowl) and looking entirely the same as she did the night before. she should AT LEAST look bloated or something. plus when charlie (the first of her frog companions) died she just left his stiff dead body floating at the top of the bowl for hours until i got home and flushed him. even if she was the murderer she had no interest in eating her victim. so...lloyd remains m.i.a. he's a greenish/brownish/gray, about 1" long and 1/4" wide, and he enjoys swimming and hiding in little fake plants. if you find him, dead or alive, please let me know.</div><div><br /></div><div>i have more to write. but i want to watch chuck more than i want to keep revealing my weird brain and life right now. so keep and eye out for more of my thoughts. and for lloyd.</div></div></div></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-14022250227914903942009-12-29T19:59:00.003-07:002009-12-29T20:55:13.928-07:00perfectly lonely.hey life,<br />it's me, cailie. again. well..you really blew it today. that's all i've got to say. kinda knocked the wind out of me. i guess it's only fair. i blow it most days. but that's how we teach each other, right? thank you so much for these things on this cold winter day: <br /><br />the greatest, npr loving dad in the world.<br />an intuition that prepared my heart in plenty of time.<br />john mayer...he always makes it better.<br />amazing friends.<br />swedish soda and good memories on a day i was really going to need it.<br />a new year in three days....enough time to get a head start on my new start. <br />a single status before i accidentally used my first ever new year's kiss on the wrong boy.<br />peace.<br />a determination that i don't think i've ever felt before.<br />lotion for my bleach burned fingers.<br />a beautiful quilt for my shivering little body.<br />laugh-crying. the best feeling on the planet.<br />the way i love to work out like a mad woman rather than stuff my face when i'm upset.<br />garf.<br /><br />sometimes we love each other. sometimes we loathe each other. right now i would normally be hating you. but i actually just respect and appreciate you a lot. sometimes you hurt me. sometimes you make me curl up in my bed and sob so hard my head hurts. other times you make me punch my head yzma style and then i yell and punch my pillow. sometimes you make me cry because i feel bad. other times you make me cry because i'm hurting for someone else. you do a lot of things that i don't quite understand yet. but you do it because i need to be stronger. i need to get my priorities straight again. i need to be me. i haven't really been me for awhile. i feel like i just woke up from a dream and i'm looking around thinking "wow...that was cool. but i'm glad i'm here in MY bed, waking up to MY life again." yeah you're leaving me kind of lonely and lost. but it's perfect and i'm actually loving it and a little excited. so weird. maybe i'm getting it just a little? growing up a tiny bit? lets be honest...you're a little out of whack life...but i wouldn't trade you for anything. <br />love always, <br />cailie,cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-24895649249914182842009-12-22T21:49:00.003-07:002009-12-22T22:43:46.128-07:00cool clients and the beginnings of the 2010 resolutions...sometimes i get kind of sad. sometimes i get angry. pissed. bummed. frustrated. down. bored. impatient. heart broken. lonely. confused. you get my drift. but i've been thinking a lot. (you think i talk a lot...imagine just one minute in my brain!) there are a couple of things that have made me think lately. a few actually. i don't think i can name them all because i had a long day and my brain is a little frazzled. but while i was driving home from work, my brain going 100 miles an hour, the thought that overruled them all was gratitude. i don't know how i'm going to pay for everything i need in the future. car, school, hobbies, family, gas, bills. i don't know how i'm going to have time for everything i would like to get done. i don't know what failures i have ahead of me. what trials to overcome. i'm not sure where i will find success. i don't know how my current relationship is going to end up down the road. i don't know how long it'll be before i lose more of my dear friends because life just keeps moving and i often feel i'm a step behind them all. my life has been in this weird limbo of unanswered questions and decisions left to be made for quite awhile. it can cause extreme frustration. it can leave me awake and crying late at night. it can make me bitter and confused. it has made me angry when i've tried to solve its mysteries and my solutions have let me down. but as i grow up (yeah i said it.. i'm GROWing UP...practically an adult....may or may not be...eventually ;) ) i think maybe i'm learning just a few things. and it's nights like these when i feel the end of the rope edging a little closer to my worn out hands and then i'm hit with something else...something far beyond my own measly human thoughts...that i step back and say "hey cailie...whoa...i think you're getting it a little bit!....wahoo!..." <br /><br />tonight i am grateful for my job. it's nice just to have a job right now. but its even nicer to have a wonderful job. i don't always love being at work, but i always love my job. my manager can be kind of funny...a little crazy, but she is a great woman i am growing to love and respect very much. beyond the expected respect, i know she loves all three of us that work for her. she asks us about our lives. she listens, remembers, is always giving advice. looking out for our best interest inside and outside of the workplace. all of us are single/still dating and she is always keeping up on the drama of that. :) and after listening to my concerns tonight while we closed we walked out to out cars, helped each other chisel the ice and snow off, and laughed our heads off because of the chunks of ice flying and hitting us in the face. weird to laugh at that, yes? you work enough long days and it'll happen to you too. :) i'm also grateful for the two wonderful girls i work with. they are both beautiful, and fun. they have strong testimonies and also care so much about me and a stylist and as just me. all three are people i know i will stay friends with for many years to come.<br /><br />i'm grateful for all of the neat people i meet through my job on a daily basis. i can have anywhere from 5-15 clients in my chair daily. each haircut can take me anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour to complete. that means i have that much one on one time to get to know someone. listen to what they have to share with me about life and share with them what i can about my own philosophies of what it's all about. i'm grateful for the people who are inspired to tell me the things that will get me through that day. make me just a little better. yesterday it was a little 18 year old boy. he just finished his first semester at byu. he was the kind of kid i would've been friends with. he walked in all energetic with a random t-shirt i'm positive he found at d.i. and some sweet converse. his hair was pretty shaggy. he plopped down in my chair and said "here's the deal....i need it off my collar and ears to keep byu happy...but i want you to help me keep it as long as i can, but still clean, and a cool style. ready...go." haha. so as we complete that task he told me all about his life and i told him all about mine. he told me how he was so poor he could barely pay for groceries and his dad had to drive to provo to get him when he was ready to come home for the holidays because he didn't have enough money for the bus pass. i told him how i understood. we talked about our goals and i told him i want to travel so badly. he went on to explain how he and his two best friends saved money their entire high school career and when they graduated they backpacked through europe for two months. don't worry. the remainder of his haircut that is all we talked about. he was able to visit 17 countries! he saw things i can only dream of seeing. and he told me "cailie....you can totally do it. start saving. just a little. everyday..." i kind of rolled my eyes and mumbled about needing a car and living at home at 21 and then we went back to talking about greece and paris and london and venice and austria etc. etc. then we finished. he loved his hair. i totaled his bill. he paid. and then handed me and extra 6 dollars and said start saving and smiled walked out the door. he didn't have enough money for a bus pass....but he came up with enough to help me get one step closer to all of my goals and dreams. it's so silly but it made me tear up. all of the wonderful people that i meet that do something be it tell me just what i need to hear, make me laugh on a hard day, are generous in their tip...encourage me and push me a little closer to my ambitions and goals...they all make me tear up. they all make me a little more grateful. they all give me a greater desire to be more generous, more understanding, more aware of the needs of others than my own. i know we often times talk about how awful the world is getting...but there are so many good hearts out there. trust me. i have the privilege of meeting them daily. <br /><br />i am so grateful for my family i can barely even start on this one. whenever i face my own silly moments of despair they are what keeps me going. as i have these growing up moments i find myself thinking about them more and more. i remember feeling anxious to move out again as soon as i moved back home. but the longer i live here the more i appreciate the moments i have at home with them. (might be taking this back in 20 years when i'm still at home with them...haha just kidding) life happens so quickly. sometimes when i watch quincy and i have that moment where i actually realize she is growing up i cry a little. and for a few minutes i wish i could just freeze her silly little, rat loving, 6 year old self with missing teeth and a curiosity that can only be found in a kindergartner. or when i watch storey writing little notes and singing miley cyrus songs and telling me all kinds of funny little pre-teen things like who likes who on the jonas brothers show. i don't want that to go away. aubree graduates this year. i got choked up over that the other day. nolle starts high school next year. just over a year till she starts driving and dating. they are both TALLER THAN ME. stop growing up! my dad is getting more gray hairs every time i cut it. it reminds me of one of my favorite john mayer songs...stop this train, i want to get off and go home again...I can't take the speed it's moving in...I know I can't but honestly won't someone stop this train. well the train isn't stopping. and i'm grateful i'm learning to appreciate it before its too too late. i'm so grateful for the opportunity to be together for christmas this week. my family is truly my greatest joy.<br /><br />i'm grateful for a warm house. good food. beautiful music. great company. laughter. corny jokes. <br /><br />i'm grateful for the temple. it is truly heaven on earth. <br /><br />and i am grateful for my Father in heaven..and for my Savior. i'm grateful for prayer. i can get on my knees anytime. anyplace. there is always someone to listen to all of my thoughts and concerns. to help me with ANY challenge i will face. i am grateful for the infinite love i receive on a daily basis. i am grateful for the Lord's love that is shown in my life through the hands of many others. my greatest resolution for the coming year is that i will be a tool in the Lord's hands more than i am now. that i will seek out opportunities to serve His children daily. albert einstein once said "only a life lived for others is worth living." i'm ready to make that a reality in my own.cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-59937113154688224672009-12-10T23:09:00.003-07:002009-12-11T01:05:17.974-07:00a tribute to lucy and a few other thoughts on the meaning of life...it's kind of a weird thing. the way i can just feel content with my thoughts for days at a time. and then one day i just feel kind of suffocated by them. they start to overwhelm my whole being till i sit down and get them out. and then i feel that peace and contentment again until the next time my thoughts start building up and creating that choking/burning/anxious feeling inside me. it's starts in my mind and then slowly it connects to my heart. it's just a little feeling of "hmm...good one cailie..." but then the more i think about it and the more it expands the more it begins to fill up that mind and heart connection. and then the more full it gets the more anxious i get to release these overwhelming ideas. and with that increase of anxiousness it starts to fill up the pit of my stomach. and when i leave it longer and longer it will start to ooze down my legs and arms and into my fingers and toes. till my whole body is screaming that i need to attempt to share my thoughts, feelings, ideas, with someone. anyone. usually chris gets to hear all these overwhelming thoughts. most days it goes something like this:<br />ring ring ring ring ring ring (for some reason he lets it ring about 9 times till i'm just waiting for the voicemail to start...)<br />hello?<br />hey! guess what!<br />what?<br />i made $40 bucks in tips today! and i had 9 clients! and i ate pasta for lunch! and i had this one crazy client....big long explanation! and i'm really itchy from tons of hair poking me! but i had some request clients come back to me! and this goes on for awhile!<br />then he says "cool."<br />then the normal, relaxed conversation begins.<br /><br />other times it's more relaxed to begin with. we're just chatting about something and then some idea on how life works that i've been thinking about comes up and i get really excited and passionate about it and the next thing i know i'm rambling for 15 minutes straight and he just sits quietly, smiling and listening. and then when i finally stop to breath he adds a sentence and then i butt in and start going again. and he just starts smiling and listening again. haha. so most times i just talk too much ( thank goodness he's such a patient/good listener, eh? :) but there are times i get that overflow of thoughts and it's something else. i know it's something else when it makes me choke up; cry a little even, and i don't talk about it as much and the same way.<br /><br />about 14.5 years ago when i was in about 1st/2nd grade (that was about the time i finally started growing the wedge out if that tells you anything about how long ago it was) my family somehow got roped into getting a cute little black and white kitten for free. she was nameless for a little while. note: i was kind of a weird child. i remember loving strange old tv shows like i dream of genie and the wonder years. i also quite enjoyed i love lucy. so one afternoon, within days of getting our new pet i enjoyed an episode of i love lucy and then i remember distinctly being upstairs in my mom's bathroom petting the new cat and telling her we should name her lucy. i remember giggling and thinking it was funny. but also thinking how cool and suiting that name was. lucille ball was so crazy but she was all grown up and beautiful but really funny in my young eyes. and somehow lucy seemed like a sophisticated name. so lucy it was. and it stuck.<br /><br />i remember sometime in the early years of lucy's life i wrote a book called "lucy long legs the cat" i was so proud of that story. i drew lots of pictures and words all about my skinny little black and white cat. i remember the day lucy got out. one of only 3 times she would EVER leave the house. and shortly after that we noticed how fat she was getting. yep. she snuck out and got pregnant. i remember watching her get bigger and bigger and getting more and more excited for kittens. (note: this was the only time lucy ever got very fat) i remember when she started giving birth in her cat box, haha, and my mom helped her deliver the kittens. she had 4 of them. she was a strange, but good mom. i remember one time she got brave and jumped up on the counter and ate a big bowl of pasta and then she threw it up and it got all over my mom's bedroom door. i know that's a strange memory. but i guess that stood out to me as a child. lucy was at every christmas since i was just starting elementary school. every birthday. every day after school she was sitting at the top of the stairs, just watching. lucy was a pretty anti-social cat. she didn't really like playing or being petted much. but she would warm up if you were patient. she had this weird habit of only liking to drink running water. she'd sit and meow by bathtub or on bathroom sink until you turned it on for her. but it couldn't be running too fast. or barely dripping. it had to be at just the right speed.<br /><br />the second time i remember lucy leaving the house she come home a little beat up. my guess was that she got in a fight with the father of her children. as far as i'm concerned lucy won. but she still had some battle wounds. i remember laura and rick turner were at our house and they helped my parents bandage her up. i was probably somewhere in the middle of elementary school. my guess would be 4th or 5th grade. i don't remember any of her wounds except one of her front paws was bleeding pretty bad and they used a tampon to get in there and clean it. again a weird memory. but i remember being so worried about lucy and kind of standing back and watching and then thinking "what is that strange cotton ball they are using?..." and then seeing the wrapper and thinking "oh one of those weird 'grown up' things...i didn't realize they are for fixing cats..." if you were wondering if strange people were once strange kids, they were. i am living proof.<br /><br />as i started to grow up and pay a little more attention to my appearance lucy would sit on the bathroom counter and watch me learn to apply makeup and make my long hair look cute. she was a friend through all the awkward jr. high years. her whole life she slept on the foot of my parents' bed. she always loved my dad. my mom said she was in love with my dad. haha. it was always a weird joke we had. once chole came around and then oliver joined the dog team her attitude got a little worse at times. which is totally understandable. they tormented her so much. they'd jump around her barking and she'd hiss and scratch them and they'd run away. so really, lucy won every time.<br /><br />one time when i was in high school it was a spring/summer night and i got home kind of late. i was walking in the house. the little porch light was on so there was some light in the front of the house but not much. there is a window well right in the front of our house next to the corner of the porch. there are also vines growing all over the front of the house and lots of plants in that general area. so it's hard to see anything suspicious going on in that particular window well at this time of year. well it's late and dark and i'm walking on the sidewalk past the window well and all of the sudden lucy comes flying out of the leafy window well. hissing and making scary cat noices. flying. yes she flew out of that window well. not and exaggeration. she almost hit me and i started screaming. that was the third of the three times i remember her leaving the house. there was another time that flying thing happened. i almost pooped my pants the second time too. somehow lucy and the dogs got locked on the basement stairs. they were being relatively quiet, so when i opened the door to go down there and get something the three of them came barreling out...lucy literally flew in the air again and then ran away and hid. this time wasn't nearly as scary. at this point i was in high school. i remember those two incidents combined with a couple of weird times where i'd find lucy walking around and watching me late at night caused me to get a little creeped out. i called her creepy lucy for awhile. nothing is more scary than having your cat fly in the air hissing with claws out in the middle of the night...and you know when cats are walking around at night and they turn just right and their eyes glow all crazy...yeah her little nightly adventures that resulted in us running into each other often included that...but really she was just watching out for me. it took me awhile to realize but she was very motherly.<br /><br />lucy watched me graduate. she kept me company for my first year of college when i spent a lot of time in bed...sick with mono and every other flu you could imagine. she watched me leave for college. and she was always there on the stairs waiting to be pet (and waiting on the bathroom counter for me to turn on the water) when i came home to visit. in her younger years she plumped up a little. but at this point she reminded me of yzma from the emperor's new groove as a cat. she was rather bony. but had that little bit of excess, saggy skin. it was also at this point that we really started noticing that lucy was getting old. and we'd always talk about how she would live forever. ten...twelve...that was so old. and she was so healthy. i really felt like she'd be around forever.<br /><br />and she just kept going. through hair school. through lots of boyfriends. all the teenage and and college age drama. and then this summer/early fall i started to notice lucy couldn't jump up to her food. and wouldn't meow so much to have me turn on the water. so we started lifting her. not long after i also noticed that she only had two teeth in her little mouth. that was a really scary moment. but she kept eating and kept watching our lives move on. then the day came where i lifted her up and noticed a lump on her stomach. i also started to notice she was getting dandruff. both signs of her age showing and her life slowing down. pretty soon the lump on her stomach became several larger lumps. not long after they started to turn into sores. she started eating and sleeping less. and for awhile no one said anything but we all knew what was coming. right before thanksgiving my mom and i took her to the vet. the only solution was to love her for the few weeks we had left.<br /><br />as a family we decided that when we could tell she was in pain, then we would let her go. it didn't take long. so today we all said goodbye. lucy had been around for so long and we knew it was coming. but every one of us has cried our eyes out. literally. it's weird how things become habit. just a way of being. we become so used to the little things that make life what it is. lucy was quiet. kept to herself. but she has been the routine of my life for as many years as i can remember. it's just part of my day to pet her and turn on the water. and then before we new it that part of life has come and gone. it's sot hard to let go of something that has been so close for so many years. my mom turned the water on for awhile as she got ready for bed tonight. :)<br /><br />so as i sit her crying all over again i've been thinking about life a little more than i usually do. how it comes and goes. one of my favorite scriptures is in 2nd nephi i'm pretty sure and it says something to the extent of life passing away...like a dream. it really does just come and go in the blink of an eye. and then you have those moments where you realize it's come and gone. there are so many little things like seeing the beloved family cat sitting on the stairs watching everyone come and go, waiting for someone to pet her and give her a drink...little daily routines...that is what life is. all these little routines. wake up. brush teeth. get ready. eat some cereal. give hugs and kisses goodbye. listen to the chunga show and drive to work...etc. etc. do we ever notice them? not until the flow is disturbed. then we realize how much each little detail of our life matters. i am so grateful for these details. i'm grateful for seeing quincy's static-y hair and crazy smile after work tonight. i'm grateful for storey's little shy smile when i asked her about a boy in her class, i'm grateful for tieing my mom's apron for her, i'm grateful for hearing aubree talking about chase...again... i'm grateful for taking the time to let my dad tell me and show me all about what he learned on npr today, i'm grateful for nolle's cute crimped hair and green shoes an sweater, i'm grateful for hearing chris's laugh over the phone and making plans for christmas, i'm grateful for chole jumping up and down and barking to go outside, and then jumping up and down and barking to come inside, and now laying next to me in my bed, i'm grateful for that moment of complete and utter death to the nostrils that happens every time chole's mouth opens, i'm grateful for that weird voice nolle uses when she's being funny, i'm grateful for seeing aubree running around almost naked all the time and the way her bathroom always reeks of chlorine, i'm grateful for the one of a kind cards and notes and homemade birthday gifts storey always gives, i'm grateful for "like a rat" and the rat hands, i'm grateful for the moments when we have to have talks about "when it's time to be a human girl and when it's time to be an animal: rat, rodent of any kind, raptor, etc." i'm grateful for my mom's head lamp and her terrible british accent that makes me cringe just a little, i'm grateful for when chris starts to kiss me and then thinks of something funny and starts laughing, full on laughing his head off in my mouth mid-kiss (yes this happens almost every time) and then we both end up laughing at everything for the next hour or so. i'm grateful for when the front of my dad's hair starts to get too long and it kind of looks like antenna, i'm grateful that he is so sensitive i can look at him during any moment that is remotely spiritual or touching and see tears in his eyes, i'm grateful for chase's laugh and the way he tackles aubree every time he walks in the door, i'm grateful that chris laughs at everything. at every good and bad moment, i'm grateful that he had no problem with wearing pants with a gigantic hole right in the crotch to meet some of my best friends, hahaha and that i didn't even notice till he pointed it out and we were laughing our heads off about it, i'm grateful for the noise of the quilting machine...and how i fall asleep listening to it almost every night, i'm grateful for the way kramer/tortie crawls out from under his log and just sits and watches me get dressed every morning...kind of creepy that that's the moment he chooses to wake up and say hello everyday, but i love seeing his little face looking at me naked or clothed... i'm grateful for coats and scarves when it's cold outside. and tonight i am very grateful for the noise of running water and the memories of having one of the strangest but most loyal and loving pets around. thank you lucy for all of the good times. may we love each other a little more and never forget all the simplicities...the little things that make life what it is. it really is too short to let anything slip by. i dare you to notice these little things. notice the things that bug you. notice the things you never have time for. notice the things you love. notice the things that make you laugh. it will change your life, i promise.cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-22779241760581020232009-11-18T12:17:00.004-07:002009-11-18T13:10:04.964-07:00birthday surprise<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>today is quincy's last day as a 5 year old. there is no school for her tomorrow so when i pulled up i saw something that looked a little like this:<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBauZGtBYgkTNlhcF1UazcbcHP20r12nn0wPiPpuF_Kn2CQJO8FVOHKZcu7pwcoGfCJDGSI_v-BzQRk8Gy6OhTR_ntqxDZSzq5yikZ2kFGoPle4_5r-0bkc0NellxOnqJtNThDAfYCgGI/s320/untitled.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405529083716914082" /><div>i apologize that it's sideways. i can't seem to switch it on this computer. but you get the idea. don't you love the "double lollie" with her little teeth marks all over it in her hand? she talked about double lollies and what it was like having a birthday at school for the first time the entire way home. double lollies are kind of like giant smarties but in one clump...so they make a big sucker. they are quincy's favorite candy. some of the other things she got to do at school for her birthday included: being the line leader for the WHOLE day, picking the sentence the class learned to read-she picked "werthers wednesday" because werthers are her other favorite candy, wearing that neat sparkly crown ALL day-except for recess...she left it on her desk for recess and her friend sara sat and picked lots of the glitter out of her hair, and my personal favorite: riding on the "good choice chair ride." up to this point i was just listening and thinking "oh how cute." but then she starts going on and on about something she keeps calling the good choice chair ride...</div><div> </div><div>me: "wait a minute...what did you just say?"</div><div><br /></div><div>quincy: "i rided on the good choice chair ride after recess..."</div><div><br /></div><div>me: "um...what on earth is that..."</div><div><br /></div><div>quincy: "we use miss club's chair and we take it all the way down to the gym and she spins us super super fast for a long time on it for our birthday."</div><div><br /></div><div>me: <trying to="" act="" serious="" about="" what="" s="" telling="" me=""> "miss club takes the class down to the gym and uses her wheely chair to spin the birthday kid around?..."</trying></div><div><br /></div><div>quincy: "yep! it's sooooo fun!"</div><div><br /></div><div>me: "did you scream?" <i sure="" s="" like="" the="" teacup="" ride="" at="" disneyland="" gone=""></i></div><div><br /></div><div>quincy: <grinning></div><div><br /></div><div>me: "wow...hmm....wwwwoooowww...maybe someday i'll get a ride on the good choice chair ride for my birthday..." <shaking></div><div><br /></div><div>how much weirder/awesome can the world get?</div><div><br /></div><div>ps i just ate a laffy taffy...this was the joke on it. question: what would you do without your memories? answer: forget. well....duh....is it just me or are you not understanding why that is a joke either?....</div><div><br /></div><div>hahahahahhahahahha. oh dear. </div><i sure="" s="" like="" the="" teacup="" ride="" at="" disneyland="" gone=""><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div></div></div></div></i>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-51157169226568077302009-11-15T13:53:00.003-07:002009-11-15T14:18:19.062-07:00synchronya few things i don't ever want to forget:<div><br /></div><div>listening to hoowoo sing his favorite song: party in the usa.</div><div>hours of mythbusters.</div><div>pumpkin pie.</div><div>up.</div><div>date night with mr. and mrs. fetus.</div><div>midnight snacks on the kitchen floor with chris.</div><div>snuggling with woogy (as long as her bad breath is non existent)</div><div>too much christmas music way too early. </div><div>spiked bread bowls. </div><div>that creepy pussy cat run chase does sometimes. </div><div>more of the wheezy laugh. </div><div>being a piano teacher.</div><div>new job.</div><div>come thou fount of every blessing piano/violin duet. </div><div>grocery shopping with the cutest boy i know.</div><div>"like a rat."</div><div>painting till 3:30 am one too many nights in a row.</div><div>when rat nests and holiday wreaths meet. </div><div>devin's chinese. </div><div>apples to apples. </div><div>when chris turns into dennis the menace.</div><div>my big furry blanket.</div><div>birthday posters.</div><div>eskimo kisses.</div><div>midnight longboarding.</div><div>answers to prayers.</div><div>more to come.</div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3535730251253044909.post-6763047345676459942009-11-10T00:51:00.003-07:002009-11-10T01:15:58.383-07:00velcro.<div style="text-align: center;">today i like:<br />funny nicknames.<br />midnight cereal.<br />buying ice cream cones with change.<br />not getting dressed.<br />good friends.<br />feeling successful.<br />that one cute boy with a sexy creepster mustache.<br />my wonderfully hilarious family.<br />nolle's wheezy laugh.<br />sqweenchies.<br />singing jason mraz.<br />feeling peace.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbRbRTAXC2_9R_erVnZb3vDrmD_Jj7fZzQDXY8lJ5qjvYCp0u8bYTxa5UCzWx30Qi6TndXQPxULQ98mIgQdZ-cbUS8sztgWvSU3pAjzMFkPy0lsRCn6i6p3lkdaT2NGutTWSHVHoW7RM/s1600-h/untitled(75).BMP"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbRbRTAXC2_9R_erVnZb3vDrmD_Jj7fZzQDXY8lJ5qjvYCp0u8bYTxa5UCzWx30Qi6TndXQPxULQ98mIgQdZ-cbUS8sztgWvSU3pAjzMFkPy0lsRCn6i6p3lkdaT2NGutTWSHVHoW7RM/s320/untitled(75).BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402385304473808642" border="0" /></a></div>cailiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16221114144274333026noreply@blogger.com2