I'm not supposed to tell you

I dont think i'd know where else to put this;

I love using big words and typically vocabulary quizzes were my favorite things to do in highschool.
I think i'm becoming exceedingly lame with age.
I've lived most of my life in front of a computer.
That whole thing that happened at fifteen will haunt me for the rest of my life.
I have no idea where my mother is.
Lists keep me sane even if im unorganized.
I speak two languages.
I dance really well.
Grammatically there are definitely things I need to work on.
I've written fanfiction for years.
( I actually have quite the following.)

My hair is never EVER behaving. It usually reflects how I feel.
I still want kids.. I dont care if I get married. I want a little girl and a little boy. This may or may not happen depending if I ever get myself to crack open to another human being..

that whole one night stand thing isn't really something I do. Ever. at all.

Choices.

I think i've resolved the age long question of how one person keeps themselves in a rut.
People around you have interesting ways of making you spend money or making you feel bad when you dont have enough.


For some reason this font seem kinds of noodly to me but for today we'll go with it.
I am sitting here on the eve of my last day of summer itching to create and not knowing where to start, so as usual I'll start with random ramblings on the internet in sweet hopes that something will rise from the lazy ashes and like a phoenix i'll have something worth doing. who knows?


As far as fitness is concerned i've fallen off the wagon. However, on the upside i've been eating better than i have in years. I dont know.. it's disheartening to walk 40 minutes to the gym it might be a more ridiculous endeavour when I move to northgate.


That's right. The gavel has been placed and I suppose I dont feel all put together about it. I didn't have much of a choice being that my landlord has nixxed pets in the apartment all together and I wanted to stay in place that wouldn't charge me 800+ per rent.


In a month I will be packing my life here of 3 years and moving out and it scares the hell out of me. I have been able to sleep well but my dreams quickly become nightmares.


I learned not to long ago that when my Dog ran away from my stepmothers house that my father didn't bail him out of dog jail. He left Simon there.. to rot.
--Agh! this blog doesn't want to be written. Anyhow, I had this dream of a news broadcast stating that dogs had been founded buried underneath cobble stone next to Bridget's old house. 


Even my dreams dont want to forget how much I miss that Dog. 
I keep having unsettling nightmares and my body clock is wired to 8am.


I dont really know where to begin there but either way-- its unsettling that i never pictured moving out of this apartment so soon, nor was it intentional.


Balls.

Trip.

Lani's earbuds thumped loudly. Apparently the rest of the workers in the office thought she was a hoot and couldn't care less what type of obnoxious britney spears song she was playing so long as it got her several thousand  more bloggers.
 Her blog of choice? Mostly relationships and places to eat. People seemed to dig a more personable response to new restaurants then blipping through another yelp page. People needed that in this city and in some way, they needed her. Her finger tips grazed the keyboard, her word pad open she sneared at the cheap microsoft package her job had given her. She couldn't help but wonder why she had all of sudden been so easily distracted?
She kept skimming webpage to webpage. Apparently there was a huge dance party coming into town for one night. Anyone who was anyone was to  be there flaunting there love of glow in the dark outfits and dancing their cares away.

Georgina, her best friend and colleague peaked over into her cubicle grinning.
"You should take a break."
"Why?" Lani mumbled, stuffing another bbq pork slice into her mouth.
"Because.. my darling dearest." Georgina shimmied happily towards her, spinning Lani in her chair to face her friend. Lani took a moment to admire Georgina's newly relaxed hair, her brown skin newly and glistening from her trip to Jamaica.
"I have two ..fabulous tickets to that little dance party that you're admiring on your webpage and you KNOW you wanna go."
Lani couldn't help but grin ear to ear.
Opportunities dont last long.. She absent mindedly shook Georgina's hand and they left the building promptly for their lunch.

You're timeless to me.

Seattle is hot as hell today and last night.

You're almost afraid to take your shoes off coming home from wherever you 've been because of the wetness you feel on your arches and the sudden uncomfortableness of any type of shoe with laces.

Needless to say i've grown a rather large appreciation for beautiful men who ride around shirtless, the men who throw basketballs with gusto as they pose while they miss the baskets. I love the bicycle polo players and the laughter of children that giggle through the air. They're all so damn happy and this is why I love living here.

When the weather is nice then so are the people...okay, that might just be a slight exaggeration but i've been waiting ages to say "GOD ITS HOT" and wafting my hands by my face. I've been waiting even longer for my skin to brown and my heart to race. 

Oh Summer. I love you.

I may be broke but the greenness of the trees and the smiles on peoples faces when they bite into molly moon's ice cream for the first time is well worth the wait.

You're being ridiculous.

I've been fighting sleep since i could remember

rolling on my side from june to december

babbling words from my lips from the careful snares of parents

young parents who guided me through awkward bathroom stalls

to help me find my barrings

I'm searching the night sky for answers with 2 degree weather in a december didn't lead to a proposal

I'm searching inwardly for the strength to guard myself from attack

from friends

life long friends that concern me with remarks as rude as the sudden awakening of the sun after a long nights worth of drinking

I cower before the arch of a beautiful walk way and bite my lip in front of lips wet with alcohol and eyes green with curiosity.

You wait to see my voice waver in front of you stumbling to say the RIGHT THING at the RIGHT TIME.

eyes lock for a moment and i swear you can see how much of an idiot I am being--

over analyzing the very words that get me in trouble.

She talks to much, said a homeless man and they just laughed.

 I didnt.

I asked for my money back and tried not to be bitter.

because the last thing a fat girl needs is to be bitter.

to take to heart that not everyone in the world likes her and they have to find some valid reason to express that every day of her existence.

Where did this world go after proving once and for all that even super man had weaknesses.

where nurturing mothers turned into co-dependent drug addicts and moving on meant into another man's bed?

Is this the route i've meant to follow--

because if this is the case its a bit hard to swallow.

that im a little early for love and a little late for sappy shit and I keep having to do round abouts in this deserted love cul de sac.

Irony grips me by the throat when healthy relationships are an urban myth and dysfunction rises above all to claim wedding dresses faster than my escaped breath.

I am a rambler.

a writer rambler with words that seem less important as my voice becomes more shrill, anxious to let out words no one will hear.

So there i stand, pausing in between quatrains and wondering when she'll come back. such vigor, such color of a girl who once didn't feel so lost and now suddenly is trapped between the means and the aftermath.