Go from Ho-Hum...

While watching one of many DVRed episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race I saw a commercial for'Booty Pop'

Just in case you were feeling insecure about your lack of buns, there is help for you. It's comparable to what Victoria's Secret does for breasts. The website includes before and after photos where, of course, the dame is looking rather dismal about her lack of ass. They are sized according to your sweetness level and will cost you a mere $19.95 (+s&h) I'm always curious about intimate situation when a lady is discovered to be committing bum or breast fraud. I hope it includes someone say "I thought I knew you."

I'd rather just have this sassy little number from Mod Cloth

I'm certain this is classy enough without any extra padding.

My roommate and I found this little gem while channel surfing Exit Speed.

nobody has to stay

i'm worried that since i didn't get it out when it was fresh that all my passion behind it has been lost.

looking over the journal entries i can see that my focus was on you. and i'm sorry for whatever i may have subjected you to, but you must understand my heart was well placed.

::heart palpations::

that's how it started. that's how i landed...
i wasn't sure how to tell you i missed you... it didn't seem right.. it didn't seem okay. i missed you.

i spent much time alone... reflecting.
i spent much time watching boats... crying.
it's was an autumn day that only could have been created on a sound stage.
the bluest of sky and the most vibrant leaves falling on lush green grass... it was surreal. it was not eastern montana. it was the farthest thing from drab. had you been sitting there with me, i'm sure i would have fallen in love with more than just the city.

i watched ships come and go for hours. i cried.
i felt amazingly strong, i felt like the independent woman that i mostly pretend to be. i was full of feeling blessed that i was there on that gorgeous day. that perhaps that day was just for me. i was doing something for myself. i was taking care of me first this time. and i loved myself for it...

it was all juxtaposed against such sorrow... that no one would ever see this, that this memory was just going to to be mine. that i would never be able to convey my emotions of this day... my thoughts of you and this city. my inspiration of who i am and who want to become. it's was heartbreaking knowing that i was inundated with overwhelming joyous and painful feelings that no one in my life will ever understand. i realized that my life had just become breathe taking moments that will be exprienced alone. vacations alone. watching boats alone. laying under trees alone.

at 26 i thought i would be more.
but for that moment, although i felt completely naked and solitary... i felt beautiful.
and you missed it... and i missed you.

i hope you never know.

folding into cranes

fyi- i started this new blog just because i am so disappointed with the blog interface on myspace... and i just can't go back to livejournal. i would feel like i was regressing in my life... no one wants that. although i am sure i will being pulling some archieve bits to post.

i never capitalize.
most of what i write is fictionalized
and vague.


recently i have been making some mistakes in my life. they are the reoccurring ones. the idealistic ones. the ones that my best friend just shakes her head at me for and asks if i have learned anything yet. i have. but that doesn't mean i put any of it to practice. what's a girl to do?

paint and fold more origami.

i have the largest canvas of my life sitting in my living room... i don't think i have enough paint... or big enough brushes... or talent.. or ambition... to cover 25 sq ft.

::shrug::

we should discuss it over tea.. and we can talk about how i took his virginity at 29... if only it were true.

particles of writing

I am carrying it all around until it is perfect... until it is great. It needs to be everything i want to say... all i need to convey. These are waited words. Each with its own mass... matter. It is weighted.

pg. 527: "Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer."

...let's run with this idea for a small while...