Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Rain, Rain, Write Away!

Don't you just love rainy days? With nothing better to do than sit on the couch, peruse the internet, watch Netflix and order take out (make sure to tip the guy extra for driving in the rain.) No, work, no school, homework is done for the day... Now what?

Well, fellow fantasy fans, you are in for a treat since I have nothing really better to write about than more tidbits of my short story. I have been thinking over the last week or so as to what direction I could take this blog story in and have come up with a few neat ideas. Hope you enjoy!

(For previous part of the story, you will just have to look back through the index. Mwaha! You have to read more of my stammerings if you want more story!)

Chronicles of No One

The days and nights continue to bleed into one another and I am losing all sense of time itself. I have no sunlight in which to differentiate between morn and night. The meds come twice daily, but I have lost track of which is the day dose and which belongs to night. Both enhance my dreariness... And cause the wicked dreams.

I had another one the last time I slept. More blood. Everywhere. It covered my hands, clothes, face, the floor walls and ceiling too. I looked in horror about myself and began to shriek. As the scream crecsendoed and I began to shake, I awoke to find my entire body spasming. The nurses ran in to hold me down, then came a sharp pain in my neck which must have been a needle with some sort of tranquilizer as I slipped into unconsciousness, this time dreamless. 

If only they could put me out of my misery. 
Or at least keep me under with that miracle dreamless sleep drug.
I know not why I am here.

Empty walls. Empty floors. Empty ceiling. Everything empty.
Even the nurses have their faces completely covered so I can witness nothing but white clothed figures with masks and bonnets, all looking the same. 

My soul is empty as well. If even I have one left. 
If only I could remember who I was. Something. Anything. Any clue to who I am or what I did to end up here...

Pitiful Fool.

I think I am hearing voices now. Maybe it is the nurses mocking me behind my cell door. However, they have never spoken before...

You did this.
You did this to me...

"What? Who's there?"

Oh God! I'm scared. What is this?

(evil laughter follows the voice)

No One screams...

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Pitiful Hooman. Yu belong to Me!

I would like to dedicate this Saturday to my most ferocious and feisty female of the feline fruition, Eiko!

Many of you know my wonderful cat and how awesome she indeed is. Yeah, she pretty much pwns as far as pets are concerned. She is loving, docile, inquisitive, insightful, playful, and loves to sleep. Rarely comes the time when she meets the air of discipline, as most of what she may do that is a 'no no' is so damn funny and cute that I could not imagine being mad at her.

Take today for example. She loves to drink water, especially when it is any other container other than her own water dish. Glasses left half full on the coffee table, the toilet if the seat is left up (in which I usually find her completely immersed since she fell in) and her personal favorite, the bath tub. She quite often spots the glass of water on the table, however, and immediately commences the consummation of the refreshing and nourishing liquid at her disposal as if to say, "Target acquired! Mine!" This is all well and fine in our household, since she is indeed Queen and Regent, but the predicament arises when the water level is not high enough for her to reach with her head and she proceeds to use her paw to tip the glass ever so slightly imagining that her efforts will allow her to access to the refreshment. Of course, being human that we are and most of us understanding some measure of the laws of physics and gravity, understand that once a glass is tipped does one of two things: tipped slightly and released the glass will fall back into it's normal resting position upon the surface it was previously rendered, or, tipped more than slightly and the glass will slow-mo topple onto it's side spilling in a glorious onrush the liquid it previously contained onto any and every surface in the immediate area including the table, carpet, book, and possible cell phone in the direct path of unfortunate destruction.

Eiko being Eiko, of course, thinks that the world responds to her rules and that tipping the glass with her foot will cause it to stay tilted so that she can drink the contents. As many times as she has done this and the rules in her mind have proven to be false, she never fails to continue to test the laws of the world in which she lives almost as if commanding said glass full of delicious water, "You will stay put..." like a Jedi. Alas, the Force is not as strong with her as she believes, hence the glass continues to fall over.

All the while, I sit idly by on the couch reading St. Augustine's Confessions (for homework, not interest I assure you) and am enthralled by her act, as let's face it, it is a hell of a lot more interesting and entertaining than anything I was doing for the previous hour.

Long story short, she can't reach the water in my cup, proceeds to stick her foot in it, knocks it over, and I laugh uncontrollably. *squeeegiggle*

Yeah, my cat is adoringly awesome. It's almost as if she perceives my plight on some type of cat/human boredom wavelength and attempts to make a funny to cheer me up by being mischievous. To prove my hypothesis, it can be stated that as I am now writing this blog post and quite immensely enjoying myself, she is sleeping soundly on the other end of the couch with a smug satisfactory thought of, "My work here is done. You are no longer bored. You're welcome hooman of mine."

I've said it before and shall say it again, it's the little things. :)

Thursday, January 19, 2012

New Title!

As some of you (all of you rather) may have noticed that I have changed the title and URL of my blog. The more I get into blogging, the more things will change and improve. I felt that the original title of "365 Days..." would get too monotonous after a while since the main focus of the title was to record something different I do everyday in my life. While my life is diverse and interestingly awesome, I have come to realize that such is not so much the case when I start school again. It becomes much of the same routine: Wake-up, Yoga, eat, nap, school (or work), eat again, homework, sleep. Trying to find 366 different things concerning my daily actions would have become quite boring I find. So!! Instead of driving away readers with the same old same old, I will spice things up with a twisted tale of fantasy in addition to awesome daily activities and findings that I come across. I am after all, striving to be a creative writer, so I will give you some insights as to how my brain works. Hence, the Lilliputians.

Many of you may be familiar with Jonathan Swift's epic tale Gulliver's Travels in which a man gets shipwrecked several times and goes on all kinds of crazy adventures with the most astounding people. Gulliver's first journey involves my favorite little people, the Lilliputians!

You ever hear of the people who are not so mentally sound that they hear "voices" in their heads? Well, I like to refer to mine as Lilliputians. That is not to say that I am not mentally sound myself, I just like to be a little fantastical with my everyday as otherwise it would seem quite boring and dull. We all need a little fantasy in our lives, otherwise the world would just plain suck. Everyone hears voices, whether or not we admit to it is a different story. At least mine are awesome, is all I can say. In an effort to commemorate these tiny voices that are responsible for my wild tales that are the inspiration for my work, this blog shall now be dedicated to them!

Here is an excerpt from a short story I am working on starting... Now!

 I think I am going out of my mind. I can't seem to focus on anything but the sharp pains that flog my temples and cause me to writhe on the floor uncontrollably. I have no idea how or when this started. All I know is the pain. 
I get flashes of memories from when I was a child, but no more. I cannot even remember my own name. It is as if the pain has taken bits and pieces of my life away from me, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. 
The meds help. Help me sleep rather. Otherwise I would surely die of exhaustion as the pain leads into insomnia. The sleep is not dreamless, however. Oh, if only it was. I get flashes of the most horrible things. Blood. 
It is all I see and all I can touch and smell when I am in my comatose dreams. I do not know if being awake is any better because then comes the pain. I try to write to calm my mind, but I find it difficult to write about anything other than my misfortune. 
Help me.
I fear the pain will consume what is left of me and I have no idea how I even ended up like this. Did something happen to me? Did I hurt someone to deserve this? Do I deserve this? I must since no one comes to visit me in this place. I have no friends or family that I can remember. My childhood flashes are more like glimpses of the world and what it must look like outside of this place. Rocks, trees, grass. I have no such luxuries any longer. I am caged, both inside and out. If only I could see the sun... maybe it would give me comfort to know that I am still alive and can be saved, for I fear that I am in hell and am suffering for something I did in my life, something horrible.
No memory.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

School Days (and some weekend catch-up)

Ok, this post will serve as a catch-up for the last couple days in which I was unable to immerse myself into the computer world for time enough to keep you all up to date on my world. Don't worry, the Lilliputians are all fine and dandy. Here's what they have been up to...

Sunday: Extreme hangover from extensive pillaging at the local bar with my personal Pirate Crew of Bewbs. We had a fantabulous time, I assure you! (Some of us even got lucky!) The first offical invasion of Molly's Pub was a great success ending with the Capt. apparently so intoxicated she could neither stand in her 4.5 in heels any longer or remember if she paid her tab (which she asked the lovely Kristen 6 times if she did and even text her the next morning.) She claimed I was "The cutest hot mess drunk she has ever seen!" I like to call that a win my friends!!
The remainder of the day was spent lounging on the couch with my own personal cabin servant, Roger, watching our favorite show, Supernatural, and mayhaps a little rumaging around in the proverbial "sack" to make sure we get our daily exercise in. *teehee* The day, all in all, was very much appreciated for its laziness.

Monday: Not much to say about this day except other than my normal routine of sleeping and eating and enjoying the little things in life, I also worked my first Monday night shift of the semester and it did prove to be quite profitable! I really do have the best job in the world right now. Much love to the Molly's crew!
Also, this was the birthday of one of the greatest men in history, Martin Luther King Jr. While I did not do anything special to commemorate this wonderful man, I did take some time to reflect on all he has done to make an influence on how our world works today. Some things he would be proud of, others, not so much. There is still a long road ahead down the path of ridding ignorance and hate from our minds. Of getting rid of the notion that "different" means "wrong." Every generation, every action, every thought, brings us either closer or farther away from the truth and how things should really be.
Here are a couple blog posts from some friends of mine regarding this holiday. Something to think about:

Thanks Bre and Brownlee!

Now, on to today, Tuesday: Today marked the first day of a brand new semester. Do you smell it? Smells like learning!! I love that smell! But then again, I am one of the biggest dorks I know, so of course I like school! However, as much as I enjoy it, I am ready to be done for a while. This semester marks the last year of my undergraduate career. Yes, in December of this year, I will have a Bachelors Degree in Arts specializing in Literature. Aren't I just made of win? What am I going to do with this degree? Teach? BAH! Kids get on my everlasting nerves, little snarky shits. No, I am hoping to write, and I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually be successful at it, yeah? Do I need a degree to walk down this path? No, not necessarily. I want it for my own benefit and personal accomplishment. So I can look at that pretty piece of paper on that wall and think to myself, "Yeah, I totally pwned that." Thinking in uber gamer terms, INT +500. Yeah, that awesome, I know.

In addition to my schooling, I am also working on my first novel. Unfortunately, major focus will not be given to it until I graduate because, well yeah, time and all. Have you ever tried to write a book? It's friggin hard and stuff. But, I anxiously welcome the challenge! Several notes, chapters, and character descriptions are already down on paper in several notebooks, in the Notes app on my phone, in my sketchbook, and of course, stored in my ever-working and imaginative brain. The next big step will be tying it all together. I figure locking myself in a hotel room for a couple months should do the trick. Achievement awaiting to be unlocked! Also, one of my writing exercises is writing, more often, everyday. Hence, the main purpose of this blog, to get me back in the habit of writing in my own writing style. Yes, I do write a LOT for school, but much of it is what the professor is looking for, i.e. Analytic Writing, which can get quite monotonous and boring after, say, three years of college. Ugh. So, I am trying to exercise my skills in my own voice; see how far I can take myself. How awesome can I make myself sound? How many different voices can I portray?Writing is much like any other skill. To reach perfection it must be worked and honed. Going for too long without doing it and my words will get fat and lazy. We can't have that now can we? No fluffy writing, kthxbai.

So, there is a nice little summary of the last couple days as well as some insight to my long term goals. What do you plan on doing for the rest of your life? If you haven't figured it out yet, no worries! It took me years and several major flip-flops to finally decide on my personal path. Get out there, experience things. If you have decided on your life path and in fact are living it, good for you, mate! But, don't forget stop and smell the roses. Life is full of, well, Life.
The answer to your own destiny may surprise you.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Wtf Allergies??

"Today I don't feel like doing anything..."

Yeah, that just about sums up my Saturday. The last Saturday I have off before school starts back up again on Tuesday, and what do I do all day? Sleep. Yup, slept all damn day on the couch. So productive, right?

I assure that as lazy as we all know I am, it was not completely my fault that I didn't in fact "Get out of Bed." One word: Allergies.

Yes, the ever present and extensively annoying allergy attack. Where do they come from?  This is such b.s. that I have allergies now at 27 when I never had them growing up. They studiously came upon me several years ago and because I was unfamiliar with the symptoms, I of course felt like I was dying. My head very well had an ogre beating my brains out with a war-axe and tiny goblin minions were mining mucus like hunger driven work horses. I promise! I'm not lying!~ But, upon conversing with my fiance, he toppled me off my soap box and told me I was simply suffering from allergies and to take some meds. Allergies?? What? I have never had them in my life!! No way! "Yes, honey, people can develop them later in life. Welcome to my world."
Well, ain't that just peachy...

So, here I am, five years later and sitting indoors on a B.E.A.utiful Saturday sleeping it all away because the ogre came back with a viscous vengeance. I thought I was doing well too since I woke up at 9:30am which is waaaaay early for me since I have been on break from school. I thought to myself upon rising, "Hell yes! I'm going to get shit DONE today!" Then I sat up... and was attacked by evil minions from the dark side of the Force. Frak.

Thankfully, however, due to my sleeping much of the day, I do feel much better now and was able to rope in and harness the ogre and goblins for long enough to get my cardio in. Hey, I am getting married in two months, in Vegas, so I need to look damn good. And no matter how stubborn or adamant those damn  determined beasties can be, they will NOT get this lady down! Go Ninja Go!

Oh, did I mention I am also developing an increased allergy to the sun? But, more on Vampirism and it's effects on me later when it's gets closer to summer. I have proof, dammit.

Friday, January 13, 2012

The Ever Elusive Friday the 13th

"The fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia (Frigga being the name of the Norse goddess for whom "Friday" is named and triskaidekaphobia meaning fear of the number thirteen)." [taken directly from Wikipedia].

That is the first thing that pops up when Googling this mischievous day. Why are we so scared of this Friday? In theory, it isn't a Holiday, nor does it have any conclusive value to our evolution or everyday lives. Yet, this day is shrouded in mystery. We are all on the brink; sitting on the edges of our chairs, biting our nails, looking out the window or around the corner every fifteen seconds or so in paranoia... waiting for the ball to drop. Two words: Bad. Luck.

I remember even as a child hearing my parents laughing talking of this "holiday" and expecting "something bad to happen." It could be anything in anticipation. The car won't start in the morning making one very late for work. Spilt coffee on a brand new pair of slacks. Running into the coffee table and breaking one's toe. All of these are happen stances balmed on this poor little innocent day. My big question is Why?

What makes Friday the 13th so scary? Any of the above mentioned could happen on any random day of the week, but if an unpleasant situation befalls this one day, it is no doubt entirely the fault of the day. No other reason could possibly explain the horrible happenstance and the freak occurance. Hmmm...

To try to solve this riddle, I once again call upon the powers of the Great Google to teach me a little history lesson on this illustrious day.

Also taken from Wikipedia:

Consequently, several theories have been proposed about the origin of the Friday the 13th superstition.

One theory states that it is a modern amalgamation of two older superstitions: that thirteen is an unlucky number and that Friday is an unlucky day

In numerology, the number twelve is considered the number of completeness, as reflected in the twelve months of the year, twelve hours of the clock, twelve gods of Olympus, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve Apostles of Jesus, the 12 Descendants of Muhammad Imams, etc., whereas the number thirteen was considered irregular, transgressing this completeness. There is also a superstition, thought by some to derive from the Last Supper or a Norse myth, that having thirteen people seated at a table will result in the death of one of the diners.

Friday has been considered an unlucky day at least since the 14th century's The Canterbury Tales, and many other professions have regarded Friday as an unlucky day to undertake journeys or begin new projects. Black Friday has been associated with stock market crashes and other disasters since the 1800s. It has also been suggested that Friday has been considered an unlucky day because, according to Christian scripture and tradition, Jesus was crucified on a Friday.

One author, noting that references are all but nonexistent before 1907 but frequently seen thereafter, has argued that its popularity derives from the publication that year ofThomas W. Lawson's popular novel Friday, the Thirteenth, in which an unscrupulous broker takes advantage of the superstition to create a Wall Street panic on a Friday the 13th. Records of the superstition are rarely found before the 20th century, when it became extremely common.

The connection between the Friday the 13th superstition and the Knights Templar was popularized in the 2003 novel The Da Vinci Code. However, experts agree that this is a relatively recent correlation, and most likely a modern-day invention. Although according to many Freemasons, this date corresponds with the slaughtering of the Knights Templar by the Church.

So... after a quick read on Wiki, one can deduce that there is absolutely no conclusive evidence of Friday the 13th being the harbringer of Bad Luck, but simply a ton of random bad luck things taking place on this day in the past. There are many theories and further down the Wiki page there is a list of references as to bad occurrences that just happened to have taken place on this day, but still, no coherent proof. Not so much as even a Lore existing as to why this day is feared by most people around the globe that dates back to even close to ancient times. I mean, the Pagans had beliefs about everything, right? Nothing on this myth, however, can be found among the multi-god worshipers of the old world. But, alas, the fear exists, even if the fear is not horrendously horrifying, but rather a humble hamper of humorous heggles. (I Alliterated again.. squee.)

After doing a little research and a minute amount of thinking, I have come to the conclusion that Friday the 13th is nothing more than a "fun" holiday. I like to think of it as more a Nature's version of April 1st, if in fact there are cosmic forces in the works to enact mischief upon us all. Hey, the gods need to have some fun too, yeah? I'll bet they are all sitting upon their clouds drinking ambrosia and laughing their butts off at all us silly humans with our squabbles and misfortunes saying, "Ha! Gotcha! Happy Unlucky Day! Pitiful Humans!"

As for me, nothing has happened yet to cause misfortune. In fact, it was Crazy Hat Friday the 13th at work. Then I had a beer. All is right in the world of Lollie.

But, the night is still young. There may still be a game afoot!!

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Frivolous, Fallacious Fellowship of Females

Don't you just LOVE alliterations?? I do! I enjoy them so much so that I have a smile on my face even though I am about to rant a little bit.

The Female Gender.

Why do girls love drama so much? I have tried to solve this dilemma since my first female "bestie" bested me out of a puppy love interest in middle school. Did the little slut like him? Not really. She just got close to me to get to him (he happened to be a good male friend to me at the time.)
All my life, I have had girls come into my life only to stab me in the back and start dramatic trends that would take years of therapy to get past if I didn't possess such a strong will.

Bullshit is bullshit my sisters. Just Cut It.

Today's post is a bit of a rant followed by some sound advice that I have acquired by experience first hand in the matters of drama dealing. If you have no mind to read my personal vendettas, then skip to the end. I will not be offended, trust me. :)

Here is a list of females of the adult variety that have been really close to me that have screwed me over whilst masked in the name of friendship: (I shall leave out names for reasons of decency, but you know who you are...)

Female roomate A: Moved in with me into my first apartment shortly after my guy roomie (who was AWESOME) moved out. Mind you, she had a destructive relationship with an abusive boyfriend and the way she was on the mend in her own life was that the bastard was thankfully in jail... until months later I find out from fucking female's Mom that "He's in the room with her! Omg he's back! Aren't you excited??) Hell. No. I'm furious. She hid him from me in OUR apt. for three days and neglected to inform me of said assholes return to the land of the free. Not acceptable. After I found out, I drove in a furious frenzy over to my bf's house to cool off (otherwise I would have capped the bitch for lying to me) for a day or so then upon returning to my compromised abode informed said female she had 24 hours to vacate the premises. (More like yelled some profanities along the lines of 'Get the F*** out of my house you ****ing ****!') Yeah, I paid over $1300 in cancellation fees for breaking my lease. Oh, did I mention she also tried to have sex with my possible boyfriend interest on my bed two months before that?

Female roomate B: Long story short. Also abusive relationship with her bf. Instead of hitting her though, he liked to punch holes in walls, in OUR apt. that I was also paying rent on. Thankfully, I was in really good with my own boyfriend at the time and stayed the majority of the time at his house. This "bestie" I found out months after breaking another lease on an apt with yet another destructive female, had only become my friend after she did in fact sleep with my boyfriend of the time at a house party when I went out of town for a weekend. I find this out a year later of course from her ex (the wall puncher). Aren't women grand?

The kicker~Most recent Ex-Best-Friend: I won't go into too much detail on this one, again for reasons of keeping some measure of decency on my part while slamming another person on the internet,and also since this wound is so new. Another long story short, this gal was on my bestie wagon for about 4-5 years. She definitely won the award for female companionship, and I thought I had finally found someone I could let down the walls for and trust. WRONG, again. After years of me helping said female with self-esteem issues and continuous problems in the male department (she had several, believe you me, like a ton) and what seemed like eons of being the Knight in Shinning Armor Best Friend, swooping in and saving her from sticky situations... Again I am faced with none other than the dramatic behind-the-back-talk and *whispers* from my favorite female come to mine ears to revel her true nature. After years of thinking someone was truly my friend, I find out that her true opinions of me where absolute bs, from several sources mind you (don't shit where you sleep, fyi), all the while she has been taking advantage of my good nature in trying to help her better her own situations. She also lied to me about several things, the big one got me when she implored me to keep secrets about her affairs of the sexual nature to two different men (both of which were friends of mine, ugh) all the while I find out she is lying to me about sleeping with a third male. Furious much? Here I am tearing my hair out at trying to keep girl code and all the while having a conscience full of demons for lying to two good guy friends of mine about the actions of my so called best friend, and she lies to me. Tit for Tat I guess. And of course, more ****-talk on her part comes to light before I decide to block her number and write her out of my life because I honestly have no desire to hear her spin more lies and excuses trying to explain herself. Instead of listening to said sob stories, which I put up with for years every time we got into a spat-I always forgave her, I rather imparted a little debauchery of my own and go to all said males and inform them that they may want to wash their privates more efficiently because she likes to play house calls in the same day. A little bitchy on my part, yes I know, but I think I deserved a little crack of my own after that whopper. Years of lying and deceit, no more thank you. I think I am done. Now, thankfully, she is out of sight, out of mind, and the world of me is much more sane and pleasant. Did I mention it took her weeks after we "broke up" to move her car from my apt. complex? Still trying to take advantage. Poison, I tell you. Toxic female.

I am sure that each and every one of you, whether male or female, has had some ridiculous female drama of your own, and can sympathize with my situations and my reasoning for having my defenses so high when it comes to members of my own gender. I have no patience for female drama. Take your sob stories somewhere else girls, because this is one fed up lady. If you ask me for advice, I will listen with an open heart and sincere ear, and proceed to give the best advice I can offer, but if you deny to take action on said advice, get hurt again, and come crying to me about it, Again, prepare to have a door slammed in your face. I'm not being mean, but grow the f*** up and handle your own problems like an adult. *rant* If you are unable to handle your own life, don't even think of bringing it to my door.

Stepping off my soap box and semi-indecent display of "Look at what these bitches did to me!" I shall revert back to the Purpose of this Post in the Present *Squee*:
1. Women, for the most part, are not as honest as you may think they are. Sorry, but it is the sad truth.
2. Everyone talks shit about everyone when the curtain is drawn. The difference comes when the shit talking is admitted and forgiveness is requested. Of course, said shit talking must stop in order to be effective.
3. Even after "knowing" someone for years and years, the drama will always ALWAYS destroy whatever connection you think you may have had. Solution: Cut the Drama. Easy Peasy.

I am a no-nonsense kind of girl, and this year is all about me and what I can do to better myself as a person. That includes taking out the trash in my life. Now, granted, there are some females in my life that I would do absolutely anything for, but they are a tiny band of trust-worthies, and I hate to say it, but I fear that the ball will still drop at some point in the future and the drama will catch up with us as well. I pray to the gods that does not come to pass... I don't think my back can handle another stab wound, the others are still pretty raw and fester from time to time.

My advice, make friends, but keep your guard up. You truly never know who is out there to do you harm. The worst hurts can come in the most beautiful packages.

P.S. I was thinking of what I was going to write for today's post last night after conversing with a female I was not on the best of terms with before the night began. Now that the air has been cleared between the two of us, it made me reflect on all the unnecessary wrongs I had incurred by members of the female variety. What sealed the deal on my scribblings was a wake up call this morning from ex-besties bank asking for reference information, no doubt to re-secure her unemployment because she messed up again and they are reviewing her case, Again.
Yeah, I deleted that voicemail.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Little Things...

Today is about the little pleasures in life. Most of us are so busy in the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives that we forget what these little pleasures can afford us. We are a hurried nation; stressed to the point of breaking. Why is this? Well, our economy is in the shitter, unemployment is skyrocketing and now the government is taking away aid for a vast amount of people that are already out of work in our glorious U. S. of A., and the struggle to survive is becoming more and more intense for the average, middle class loser just trying to make it through the day without bill collectors hassling the phone lines.

How do we deal with all of this?

The answer is more simple than you may think, even if it doesn't solve all the bigger problems in life. The simple solution is to take a step back, center, and breathe in and out. Just remember that things could ALWAYS be a lot worse... (in fact it is for a lot of people in other parts of our quaint planet.)

Just Breathe.

Let go of all the problems for at least a little portion of the day. Save some time each day just for yourself. Do what ever makes you happy; think about whatever it is that makes you smile and hopeful. With the new year rolling in, a lot of people have New Years resolutions they are trying to fulfill, and may be struggling with even after only a couple weeks... *wink*
This little quiet time can be used to think of future goals you wish to accomplish for yourself. Lose that ten pounds of fluff, go for a walk, pick up a book you have always wanted to read but have not had the time. Taking just ten minutes a day to think for yourself, and only yourself, can mean all the difference in our sanity.

I like to spend my "Lollie" time in a variety of ways, but my favorite by far is tea time. Usually I start off my morning with Yoga or some cardio action outside (gotta get in shape for that wedding!) Afterwards, I soooo look forward to my little piece of heaven, an exquisitely refreshing cup of tea. Sometimes, especially in the case of my running excursion, my tea time is the motivator; a little reward to myself for a job well done in getting off my butt and doing something to better myself. My tea time is my meditation. It is a time of reflection and inspiration that affords me the strength to accomplish my goals, both tall and small.

So, my advice to you: stop what you are doing, take ten minutes, grab some Starbucks, and revel in the little things in life. And remember...

Just. Breathe.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Tuesday, Tuesday

What can I say that is interesting about Tuesdays... I guess I can start with my average Tuesday routine, which begins with Yoga. Yes, I know what you are thinking, "She's one of THOSE girls..." Yeah, you know the kind. Eats healthy, super flexible, listens to rain drop and ocean sounds on her iPod to meditate. Well, yeah actually, I am! And so what? As if it is cliche to workout and want to better myself as a person, both body and soul. What do YOU do in your free time? Watch TV? Go out drinking with your buddies? Eat wings like they are going extinct???

Big surprise! I do those things too!

The difference is that I do them in moderation and be sure to balance out the bad I am putting into my body with the good I can do for it by working it out. Life is about balance, and a delicate one at that. So, before you begin to turn your nose up at me, just remember, I can eat an entire pot of mashed taters and will probably not get fat because I decide to get off my lazy butt and exercise the next morning. Don't hate because I am into the weirdness, appreciate that I care enough about my body to make it appealing and strong. This is one gal who won't have saggy boobage when she gets old! :D