Requirements of a future home

There will need to be a soft couch

A place for cuddling with fleece blankets

For tickling, popcorn,kisses,  and movies

Projected on the opposing wall

A couch where we can both fit


There will need to a wooden cabinet

For the china inherited from my Nana

For the picture frames from both our sides

The knick knacks from travels and

For the treasures our future brings


There will need to be a closet

Where your pants and my skirts

will mingle between washing

Where our shoes will sit and

the linens will gather that perfume


There will need to be a study

Technically it will be  library

Where our books will sit and more

Shall appear every time we

Head out to a store, to place


There will need to be a washing machine

For the days when paint just won’t come out

Of my dress pants, or the oil stains turn

Dark on you work shirts.  And especially for

The socks that carry their own scent


There will need to be a dog, and quite

Possibly a cat.  There will need to be something

Furry and soft and loyal, happy to see me and you

Something to play with, some one to adore

Perhaps a German Shepard and a Scottish fold


There will need to be a bed

A bed with calming blue and brown sheets

A bed for sleeping, for reading, for playing games

A bed for working late and for breakfast in

Most importantly, a bed for loving you


Love thy friends

For they will pick you up drunk

and pick you up from the dark corners of your head

Laughter created and memories made

Love thy friends



Love those who are different from you

No matter how scary they can be

They are people like you and me

And so long as they do not hurt anyone

Love those who are different from you



Love thy animals

Both big and small, for all bring big comfort

Do not abandon them to the shelter

Keep them, for you are their everything

Love thy animals



Love thy partner

For they make you smile. Be their light and

They shall be yours.  Treat them with golden kindness

In return, golden bands that span eternity

Love thy partner



Love thyself

For you are amazing

Exactly, promptly, perfectly

The way you are

Love thyself




Good Morning!

It’s eight o’clock here and I have actually been awake since six.  Maybe because I was trying to convince my boy that his phone was an hour off and if he didn’t get out of bed, he’d be late for work.  Or maybe it’s because I AM GOING BACK TO PRE SCHOOL TODAY!

Now, for those of you who have only recently started following me, let me recap.  from September to December of 2012, I had a field placement in a pre school classroom not too far from college.  I fell absolutely in love with my students, and everyday I went there, I felt good about myself.  Now, around the end of September, my (then boyfriend) dumped me unexpectedly and I was pretty much at a loss for what to do.  There were a lot of people who helped me out at that time.  One of them was a blogger, a couple were my roommates, one of them was Call Me Maybe, another was Horsing Around.  I had so many influences that helped me get better and helped me become a better person.

One of the biggest ones was my pre schoolers.  No matter what was happening in my life, whether it be school or homework or social problems or boys, they were there for me.  Now, I don’t mean there for me in the traditional sense that they let me vent and talk and cry.  These kids always came in with smiles and hugs and they would take me away from my life and my problems.  It also helped because I could see the impact I had on them.  I watch a child who had trouble in social situations get better and make friends.  I watched them grow and laugh and learn.  It’s a beautiful thing, a wonderful thing.

I’m so excited to go back and visit them.  i get the feeling though that my heart will probably break when I have to leave today, but I don’t give a damn.  I miss my kids.

Feeling good

So today was interesting.

I went out with Azure to wander around town.  We had a great time.  We went into this little boutique and were trying on dresses.  The woman, this little Asian lady, saw that I had a small in this pretty lace dress.  She looks at me, pats my stomach, and says I might want the next size up.

First off, I’m all for comfort, but no one who doesn’t know my first name should be touching me.  Even then… Like on the arm is good.  The stomach?


And then she goes and insults me and my tummy.

So we left and I felt like shit cause Azure, she’s going to be bashful when she reads this, is gorgeous.  Like she models gorgeous, like men honked at us on the street gorgeous.

When we got back, we both put on dresses and took pictures.

I look stunning.  I know I’m gorgeous.  Sometimes I lose track of it.  Beauty is not just the skin you’re in.  It’s your attitude and optimism and happiness and life and pursuits.  I’m beautiful cause I can read in a dress and heels and look like a sexy bookworm!  I’m beautiful because I can love.

(I realize that my writing is not up to par, I’m tired and am jumping around a lot.)

So I was on tumblr the other day

And I found a great series of Joker and Harley Quinn photos, showing the progression and the reality of their relationship.

To begin, I am a huge Batman fan.  My mom brought me up with it and it’s been something I have always loved.  Good versus evil, Batman’s secrets, the weaponry, the psychological drives between each character.  Yes, I am a giant fan.

My two favorite characters… I can’t say favorite, because I have so many that narrowing them down is just tragic.  I can say the two I find most fascinating are the Joker and Harley Quinn.  Why?

Well, the Joker is essential batman’s opposite.  The Joker is Chaos, smiling, laughing, killing Chaos.  Psychologically, the Joker is this insane madman.  He’s insane and you never quite know what’s going to strike him as brilliant, but I can hope that it will involve a smile.  Harley Quinn was not necessarily a villain made to order, but her love for the Joker, an all consuming obsessive love, transformed her.  All she wants is make her puddin’ happy.  She’ll do anything for him, although he treats her poorly in return.  In the end, they always end up together, despite their fights and battles.

Their relationship is utterly fascinating to me. I wish I could understand why.  Really, it’s love.  Absolutely crazy psychotic killer love.  Maybe that’s why I sympathize with it so well.  tumblr_mj0j065BaP1s6jcmso7_500

Love for little ones

As a few of you know, I teach.  Or well, I want to teach.  I am in college so that I will be able to teach one day.  

This semester I worked with some of the most amazing and sweet pre schoolers.  They touched my heart in so many ways and I can’t thank them enough. 

When I heard about the shooting, I was heartbroken.  Those children, those little kindergarteners were so young, they had so much ahead of them.  to have someone take that away is cruel and horrible.  I kept thinking ‘what if those were my kids’ all day today.  

My heart goes out to those affected by the shooting in Conneticut today.  My prayers and thoughts are with you.

Azure Lights

Well, ladies and gentlemen,

I am about to fully introduce someone, and give her a name on this blog.  Until now it has all been hes and shes and I.  This is a first, I have been reluctant to do this, bring a named person in, but she has been wonderful to me lately.  That and we have the best conversations.

One of my roommates’ names is Azure Lights.  Obviously, this is an anonymous blog and she has a real name.  Here though, I call her Azure Lights.  She is tall, gorgeous, wonderful, impulsive and one of my best friends.  I met her last year during a class and after that class, she asked if I wanted to live with her.  I said yes.

Now, we have these little routines, all these little jokes.  We make a lot of tea in my apartment.  When she or I makes it, we ask the other and know how to make the other’s preferred tea (she likes peppermint with two spoons with sugar, I like my berry mix with two spoons of sugar).  I”ll being her the tea and she’ll bring me mine.  we have a roommate who has been causing us a lot of problems, so when we get angry, we start saying ‘I hate Mondays’ just so we can say something about her without bitching too badly

In the past couple of weeks, it’s just been stressful around the apartment, for reasons I’ll discuss later.  We’re both stressed and tired, and a few days ago she got drunk with some friends.  She gets very touchy, so she kissed me three times (once of the cheek, once on the head, and once on the knees since I had a bruise and she wanted to make it better).  So yesterday, we were all talking about it and i got up and kissed her one the cheek.  She turned so red, it was adorable.  Later on she slapped my ass, but that is also somewhat normal…

Finally, we were talking.  I run another blog and I haven’t had much to post there lately.  We’re talking and she goes ‘Write about our sex life.” I stop, turn around adn scream hystiercally, “We don’t have a sex life!”  We both just died laughing.  I love you Azure Lights.

bibliophile dilemma


From school to home, or the library or the book store

In that small town tucked away somewhere

She carries her burdens in pages and ink


Her back bows backwards under the weight of them

Their characters, their settings, their plots

Heavy in their meaning, in their wonder, in their delight


Her arms are only strong when they hold them up

Shielding them from the elements until safety is reached

Inside her room, where the small town exists no more



On the rich chairs from her grandmother, she’ll perch with her stack

Counting inventory like a shop keeper would to his stock

She revels in their numbers and sizes and shapes


Once she is settled with a tea cup in her hand, perhaps a snack

She’ll sit quietly and open the book on top

No longer is she herself, but an extension


She reads page after page, absorbing the ink

Wanting to escape into the book, wanting to still be herself

Wanting everything and nothing to change


The books ends and she is satisfied, content, complete

If only until she glances over and sees that night has fallen

And that there are more books to read


Plucking up another from its place

She flips it open with graceful fingers

Beginning the dance again.


Country Music

Well ladies and gentlemen, since I am using country music to write my sestina, I might as well explain my complicated relationship with country music.

For many years, I did not actively enjoy it.  I thought it was kind of silly and on occasions, very stupid.

Then I met a guy.  That’s where a fair amount of my stories start.  I met a guy.

He had just been dumped as well.  We became friends and I knew at some point or another, he’d rub off on me.  He got me into listening country music.  Around the time that fifth song rolled on the radio while he drove me home one weekend, I liked it.  I still find it a bit silly at times, but I knew I liked it.  I also knew I liked him.  It took him a few weeks before he confessed that he liked me back.  We dated.  We fell in love.  We listened to country music a lot.  I grew to genuinely enjoy it.

Then he broke my heart.  I stopped listening to it then.  But then we came back together and apart, together and apart.  And once more over the summer.  During the summer, i started listening to it again.  I fell in love with the music this time, as well as the guy again.  But, as he had done before, he dumped me again.

However, this time, I couldn’t put the music down.  I couldn’t put it away.  I simply could not.  I had fallen for those southern twangs, guitar strings, and the lyrics about love, loss, beer, mama, and God.  I couldn’t help it.  I adore it now.  I’m using it to write poetry, to help my muses to keep moving.

This is my relationship with country music.  I love it.  I just hate the guy who introduced me to it.