Feeling: Happy 80% Cloudy 15% Cranky 05%
Pray It Forward: Thanks. For Everything.
Thinking: It’s good to sit back and appreciate the blessings of one’s day.
Listening To: Toad the Wet Sprocket – Crazy Life

I’m amazed by little things that make me feel very small.

* Did you see how bright the moon has been the last few nights? It’s amazing to see it cast shadows through the trees and sprinkle silver through the stakes of small home fences. And if you’re very quiet, and very still, and all you can hear is the wind and your heart beating, and the small gasps of aww you take when you it all in, it’s quite breathtaking and marvelous. It makes you feel very alive, very small, but very precious when you sip in such a lovely still moment.

* I feel amazed that I have such awesome, intelligent, and talented friends who care enough about me to help me out with this little site, which in essence, is partly an expression of vanity, and a small little place for me to divulge the inner tinkerings of this little girl’s head.

* I feel awed that by trusting, completely and wholly in the forces of the universe, that I can feel the movement of positive change around me. Translation, well, I got a job. And yeah, I’m “shaking my ass” in delight. (Ariel, you’re off the efluvilicious hook with your magical cookie…which in fact, was not white chocolate macadamia nut but ghiradelli chocolate chip tummy delight)

* I feel loved. By no on in particular. I just feel good. Within my own skin and comfortable with it. Why I wasn’t like this always, I don’t know. Though I attribute writing in a journal/blog regularly, a public one, no less, that forces me to be honest, articulate, and real, as the fundamental root. There is nothing more I can think of, beyond my faith, and my friendships, which have helped me identify and trace the very outlines of who I am, the thin prickliness of my skin, my patches & flaws, my scuffs and scabs, the white coldness of bone, the ache of a muscle so simple as in a girl’s heart, all of these things, and more…which have been scritched in the scribing and kissed in metaphor and self analysis over the last couple of years that I’ve been writing and keeping up a website online.

Peace out, folks. And as my mom always said to me when she kissed me on the forehead, “Habba good dreamuh.”