These are the words you wish you wrote down

A poem in a door way in the French Quarter in New Orleans.

 

 

if you hadn't added my new journal winking_modesty  then I'm talking about you in it.

 

 

yes, you.

Dear journal,

You have served me well over the past year and some odd months.  You have witnessed the rise and fall of several relationships, careers, and bottles of liquor.  Don't think I'm not grateful because really, I am.

Unfortunately, I have outgrown the rather emo name "dont_fall_4_me" which was a joke even at its conception.  So now I'd like to part ways and move on.

Best regards old friend,

Amanda

Everyone:

My new journal name is :   winking_modesty </span>

stststutter (Drea) did a goregous job on my layout for the winking_modesty journal, so if you really like it be sure to tell her.  =)

I will begin posting there as soon as the electrical issues have been resolved at my house and I'm no longer staying with my parents.  (I can't really focus to write here.) 

Also, for any of you that read my journal without making your prescence known, please consider this an invitation to introduce yourself as I make a transition.   

Currently, I am drunk enough to have had this brilliant (or possibly not so brilliant) idea.

Also, I am JUST drunk enough to share it with you.

I am completely enamored with a boy.  He is completely  enamored with me back.  He had to go away (out of the country) for 18 days.  When he comes back, would it be CUTE or CREEPY if I waited at the airport for him?  Please provide details.

 

Pick 20 of your friends :

1. Alexx May
2. Jana Cara Camp
3. Holt Coltharp
4. Jody Shugart
5. Dick Tracey
6. Cassie Coll
7. Troy Coll
8. Jaime Jimenez
9. Dustin Kirkland
10. Gabe Regan
11. Sam Erzen
12. Brett Cutre
13. Ed Jasper
14. Keith Klienschmidt
15. Robbie Ory
16. Ryan Rice
17. Preston Gulliot
18.Will Shafer
19. Jennifer Griffin
20. Kennon Hullett

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I changed my layout... for the eight billionth time... and I've finally decided to admit that I have no effin clue how to do it right.  Sooo... if anyone wants to make it pretty for me... speak up.  I promise to do something nice for you back... like ummm... something.  Thanks.

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    Have you ever had a weekend or a day or an hour that affected you deeply but you have trouble describing it?  It’s not that you CAN’T put it into words – you can. 
   
    You can tell someone who was there, what you did – you can even get into how it made you feel.  But the longer you talk about it, and the less you feel like you’re making any sense. 

    The other person is just staring at you, nodding, and seeming to completely miss the significance of what happened. You start babbling common phrases like, “You had to be there” or “Maybe it’s just me but…” and you start to feel like an idiot. 

    Why did you think anything special could ever happen to you?  Why do you feel like you’re LIMITING what happened by using the word “special”?

     I think that some people have experiences like this, and are too pessimistic to even acknowledge them.  They’ll believe any other explanation EXCEPT that something “special” happened to them.  I’m not one of those people.

     What I am, unfortunately or not, is one of those people who gets on cloud nine, feels it for a little while, and then (usually after it’s over) starts to feel slightly foolish about the entire event.  I feel sorry for myself, maybe, that I can’t completely enjoy what happened.  I spend a lot of time afterwards wondering if it was real.

       Usually, it’s not.

       Most of the time, the carriage turns into a pumpkin far before the stroke of midnight and the prince doesn’t find the slipper you left on the stairwell because he’s too busy slipping it to some other chick.  Harsh, but that’s life.

       The truth of the matter is, only one person who makes you have butterflies, who lets you be yourself, is going to be there for the long haul.  Only one person is going to keep you saying, “I knew it right away” forever.

       So for now, I think I’m going to do myself a favor.  I think I’m going to accept that something very wonderful happened to me – and that was the way I’ve felt for the last twenty-four hours – and it felt WONDERFUL regardless of whether or not it was real. 

       Of course, it would be even BETTER if that wonderful thing was meant to last longer, but I can’t beat myself up about it if it doesn’t.  All I can do is be happy about how I felt.  All I can do is hope that nothing cheapens it for me later. 

       Don’t hold your breath, but I’ll have pictures as soon as I can. 

           

Why Good Girls Like Bad Boys

 

            After watching The Breakfast Club and intensely desiring to make out with John Bender (Judd Nelson) I feel that I am highly qualified to write on this subject.  Also, I like declaring myself an authority on various subjects.  If you don’t like it don’t read my journal.

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My parents have a deposit on a puppy that looks like this:



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