I was talking to my friend Gwen last night and she said something that stuck out to me.

Girls like two things,
1. Learning something new every day
2. Twirling

And I have to admit that she's correct. I love learning or experiencing something new everyday. For example, to day I learned about the reasons for Bolivia's explosive hyperinflation in the 1980's. Yes... I am a dork. But I like learning about the why behind things.

As for the twirling...

There is just something about spinning around and around while letting the fabric of your dress float, swirl, twist and turn about you. It's mesmerizing. It's beautiful. And I love it. Maybe its because it brings back memories of me as a little girl playing princess in the fields behind our house. Or maybe it's because when you twirl, people watch you and admire.

And it's all the more better when there is someone to twirl you. I'm not going to be the emotional sap here, but as a girl, yes, it is nice.

That's it. That's all I had today.

--sorry-- I lied. I do have more to write about.

So here is my exteremly long interjection...

Let me recommend a cd to you all that is going to be permanently in my cd player.

Listen to it, love it, live it.

It's "Shiny Toy Guns" album by We are Pilots.

You know whenever you listen to a song and can completely relate to it? Like the song was just echoing what's in your mind? Well here's one of them for you. It's called "Don't Cry Out", But I would like to refer to it as "Jamie's Life from a Previous Time". Yeah, it's good. It's what I'm thinking, well kinda. It's hard to explain. So read the lyrics, enjoy, and know in an odd way that it's what I'm thinking.

Auggh.
Sorry. I usually keep my blog light and airy and enjoyable. And I also know that when I write something deep or something that I've been pondering that no one will post a comment- that's ok. I don't mind. Really I don't.

Alright, I'm done for now. More posts to come....

Don't Cry Out

I don't get you . .
I can't forget what you've forgotten
all along
I've never been so alone

Don't Cry Out
Cease Fire

I was pretending
Your secret kiss of confidence
Was my escape
The perfect game to play...

Don't Cry Out
Cease Fire

Ten nine eight and I'm breaking away
I'm all dressed up and I'm ready to play
Seven six five four and I'm all over you
Counting three two one and I'm having fun...

Your fascination
With naked walls of silk and skin
With no conditions
I needed you to notice....
That’s all I wanted

Don't Cry Out
Cease Fire

Ten nine eight and I'm breaking away
I'm all dressed up and I'm ready to play
Seven six five four and I'm all over you
Counting three two one and I'm having fun...

"So it looks like the Chicken Pox..."

Someone said to me as they glanced at the tiny red welts covering my arm. And looking at my arms, stomach, legs, and probably my back, sigh...., yes. It does look like I have the chicken pox.

I mean most people get them when they are in kindergarten from the slightly chubby girl named Susie. Or when their parents decide to have a "slumber party" with the sick and slightly spotted kid from Sunday School.

So I could break out the Calamine lotion and look like I took a bath in Pepto-bismol.

Or I could take the more obvious approach.

Which would be to observe that these red bumps covering my body are actually welts. And that they only appeared after a trip to see a friend in Fort Collins. And that throughout the entire time we were at Ft. Collins we were having airsoft wars. (which I have to interject here and highly recommend that everyone go out to your local Wal-mart and buy an airsoft gun. You won't be disappointed. I know I'm not)

So to Cactus, Todd, Zack, and Todd's various roommates- Thanks for the welts. They'll be with me for a while.

Please.... Please let it snow.

I want tomorrow to be my Friday/Saturday.

Please??

Just a flake or two, or two million. I don't care.

Just close down the interstate and leave motorists stranded on the road.

Me?? I'd rather snuggle in a blanket and drink hot cocoa with just a little kick to it.

clouds crashing into one another

A prayer for the searching...

Desperate for changing

Starving for Truth

I'm closer to where I started

Chasing after you.

It's Pat....

background music: "Bell Bottom Blues" by Derek and the Dominos

Is it a she or a he?

That's the basic arguement that my co-workers and I have been having about another co-worker that works in a different department. We'll call that co-worker "Pat". Pat looks like a man, but she/me has a big butt... The type of butt a girl has. Pat's hair is cut short, in a uni-sex cut and Pat doesn't wear any makeup. There's no adam's apple on Pat, but no boobs either. So most of us at the office are left scratching our heads still determing in the lunch room what this person is. I mean really, if people are debating about your sex, you know that there is a problem. So for all of you that don't want to be that Pat, here is some suggestions for you.

a. Don't have a uni-sex haircut. If you are a guy, have it look mann-ish. If you are a girl, wear it longer. If you insist on wearing it short, have it look semi-feminine. Or at least wear earrings.

b. Wear distinguishable clothing. I mean, anyone can wear a button down shirt and khakis with leather shoes. So if you are a girl, wear at least a tailored button down that shows you have curves.