When small drops began to fall and darken the world in penny-shaped circles, no one around him scurried for cover. For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.



Recently, I had a dream about wedding.  It wasn’t just any wedding, though—it was my wedding, though not the wedding I have often dreamed about.  It was a small, cheap, family-filled affair in a large room with wooden booths laid out on the perimeter.  It was also a double-wedding, shared with my cousin (as though she were my sister) even though she’s already married.  I spent much of the affair deep in conversation with my mother, looking for my beloved.

My husband was tall, gangly, and somewhat socially awkward.  He immediately took my hand upon finding me, and we navigated the throngs of dancing guests as one unit, linked by fingers and.

It’s strange, but that simple dream hurt so much upon waking up.  Everything was all wrong—the wedding, the dress, the groom—but the simple act of holding my hand in a moment of marital bliss made everything feel absolutely right.  This man, a figment of my subconscious that I can barely remember, showed me pure, unconditional love for the briefest of moments, and reality stripped it all away.

Waking up and going about my day feels empty and hollow after dreams like that.  Dreams like that make me wonder what it is I’m missing about this whole love & life thing.


life’s little joys:

driving to Tucson on a whim, two weekends in a row.

meeting someone I can only describe as a kindred spirit, even if he does have some growing up to do.

conversations on a strange couch that last until sunrise.

long exchanges of text messages discussing everything from favorite books and places to pipe dreams and life’s philosophies.

falling asleep smiling.

a concert that set my soul on fire.

mutual feelings at the wrong time; premature goodbyes.

"see you in another life, brother."

a new direction in life.  purpose.

that feeling of knowing without really knowing.

the unbelievable magic of random chance so perfect it almost feels meant to be…almost.

that feeling of almost.


But say a man does know. He sees the world as it is and he looks back thousands of years to see how it all came about. He watches the slow agglutination of capital and power and he sees its pinnacle today. He sees America as a crazy house. He sees how men have to rob their brothers in order to live. He sees children starving and women working sixty hours a week to get to eat. He sees a whole damn army of unemployed and billions of dollars and thousands of miles of land wasted. He sees war coming. He sees how when people suffer just so much they get mean and ugly and something dies in them. But the main thing he sees is that the whole system of the world is built on a lie. And although it’s as plain as the shining sun—the don’t knows have lived with that lie so long they just can’t see it.


my (apparent) plans for the evening:

(Source is Hyperbole and a Half, a fabulous blog that you should read in its entirety RIGHT NOW).

On the list:

  • Wash car. Done!  BONUS: replaced a handful of lights on my car.  
  • A gabillion loads of laundry.
  • DUST ALL THE THINGS (in my bedroom).
  • DISINFECT ALL THE THINGS (in my bathroom).
  • Scare the ever-loving shit out of my cat by vacuuming.

The only bummer is that I can’t do clean these things in my normal cleaning attire: my underwear.  That’s what happens when you try to clean when people are home.


3 wishes.

  1. That I could wake up from this nightmare and find the courage stop making the same mistakes over and over again.
  2. That I might be seen as more than just a means to an end or a way to scratch an itch.
  3. That it would finally be my turn.

rocket science.

  • Ginny Ryerson: Have you ever felt like you can burn the world down?
  • Hal Hefner: Every day.

a sobering thought.

Life is full of movie script moments, but sometimes I think the only shot we have at a movie script ending is death.



Listening to “Burial” by Miike Snow reminds me of the infinite possibility of the holiday season.  It hurts to think of how much has changed since just last December.

I’ve been told that I haven’t been replaced, but I feel it in every fiber of my being.  It was inevitable, I know, but that doesn’t change this feeling one bit.  I miss my friend.

I miss the simplicity of driving around, looking at Christmas lights with the windows down, and picking out dream houses.

"Don’t forget to cry at your own burial."


I am looking for a dare-to-be-great situation.


apologies, confessions, realizations.


I understand that I have neglected this ‘blog’ for quite some time.  Admittedly, I used it as a tool to express some of the feelings I had after my last relationship (if you can call it that), and once I stopped expressing those publicly, I stopped writing in here.  I have also been trying to consolidate my online presence into my website (I’ve paid for the damn domain for a year, so I might as well actually USE it), which contributes to the lack of content here.  Those are excuses, however, and my two readers deserve an apology for the neglect.  I’m sorry.

However, I am making a concerted effort to blog on my website at least once or twice a week (yes, even with law school taking up much of my free time!), so feel free to bookmark if you enjoy reading my jumbled and disjointed thoughts.


I am still not entirely sure what I want, but I can promise you that I spend more time than I have to spare trying to figure it out.

I am happier than I used to be, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still struggle with sadness or frustration.  I’m trying.  Life has to be lived EVERY DAY.  Between that mantra and law school, I spend less time hiding in bed because I feel sad.  However, I still over think things until I kill them, and I still (VERY infrequently) reminisce about various points in my past, extrapolating to the present and wondering what would be different and what wouldn’t.

There are days when I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin.


I am more like Summer than I initially thought.

I can know exactly how I feel about someone, but that doesn’t mean I’m capable of actually expressing it.

I am completely capable of crying over someone I thought held no more power over me.


held to the past; too aware of the pending.

Can you ever really be friends with an ex?

I’m inclined to say, “no.”  Especially if that ex took something from you.  Or broke you.  

What do you think?


mistakes, memories, music.

Sometimes I get this overwhelming sense of deja vu when I listen to (don’t make fun of me) the Halo/Walking on Sunshine mashup from Glee.  

I remember driving to that overnight, though I don’t remember what on earth the overnight was for.  I remember that I was either dating or broken up with JR (who can keep that straight without iCal anyway?).  I remember Smart Water and rolling down the car windows and feeling infinite.

It’s an emotional cold shower, and it’s enough to make me want to quit listening to that song.  It’s not that I still care about him or anything like that.  I’m simply trying to numb the things I feel about the biggest mistake I’ve made in a while, if not ever.

And yes, dear, you were that mistake.


I’ll walk your lands and swim your sea. Marry me. Marry me.

Why would I stop loving you a hundred years from now?


let’s jump, baby.

I am all about going down in a ball of flames.  Life is only lived on the edge.

Join me on the precipice and let’s jump, baby.  I promise it’ll be the ride of your life.