So today I studied a comment from the great Jozette regarding my blog. I read and re read her comment at least twenty times. Then I asked my assistant "what does lmao mean?" I thought it was a reference to a country or a "Free the Lama Campaign." She politely reminded me that people write with short cuts!
I was so relieved when I heard what it meant. Thank you!
I felt slightly (and I mean slightly) mature for not knowing this new lingo.
It's like when people wear those small knitted sweaters or jackets with a pair of jeans and pearls. It looks great on them, very modern Audrey Hepburn. On me, it's instant granny. Dark sunglasses give me the blind look and loose summer dresses make me look like I'm on a Greek Island cruise with the Canasta Convention Party.
Another example - I imagine Elena Kagan's hair would look great on Megan Fox.
At least I try my best with what I've got - and that is said Only Laughing Demurely. To you younger folks that's o.l.d
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Right now at 11:33pm
I continue to be busy at work. I continue to hide my honest thoughts. Even from myself, I say "Oh, don't think about that. It's different for us. This will pass."
I hear and feel other peoples sadness like a DJ collecting music. Forever grabbing at the latest hit constantly replacing and updating the play list.
It's easy to say things are good when they are. I keep refueling myself in small and simple ways.
A breathe of fresh air, a different do nut, a twelve dollar necklace from Kohls.
I keep saying, searching, looking, asking for the miracles - convincing myself they are found in the trees, the clouds and the grass. Trouble is I want more.
Each day that the page on the day calendar is removed I wonder if this will be the day - when I either get it or it gets me.
Me with my headaches and stomach aches. My husband wondering how, why and what. He looks so well, yet I imagine the fear and confusion going on inside and I can't stop it. No matter how hard I say I love you, no matter how many bills I pay, nor how many hours I work and how many times I don't do something for me, nothing changes.
It continues and never changes.
I promised that when writing this blog I would always tell the truth and aim to be funny.
Tonight I tried the trickiest one. Thanks for reading.
I hear and feel other peoples sadness like a DJ collecting music. Forever grabbing at the latest hit constantly replacing and updating the play list.
It's easy to say things are good when they are. I keep refueling myself in small and simple ways.
A breathe of fresh air, a different do nut, a twelve dollar necklace from Kohls.
I keep saying, searching, looking, asking for the miracles - convincing myself they are found in the trees, the clouds and the grass. Trouble is I want more.
Each day that the page on the day calendar is removed I wonder if this will be the day - when I either get it or it gets me.
Me with my headaches and stomach aches. My husband wondering how, why and what. He looks so well, yet I imagine the fear and confusion going on inside and I can't stop it. No matter how hard I say I love you, no matter how many bills I pay, nor how many hours I work and how many times I don't do something for me, nothing changes.
It continues and never changes.
I promised that when writing this blog I would always tell the truth and aim to be funny.
Tonight I tried the trickiest one. Thanks for reading.
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