Conventional Relationships...

Sticky floor.Velvet seats, arm rest on side, to- eyes yield across, side. One side of the stage drapes tension, the other hung swooningly is terror.

And thus the night began:
The playbill is your only key to a hint for the show that will bestow upon you. When I open it for a peek before the show begins there are a series of stats, percentages, and character mock-ups. The key players are put into light, so that we may understand the show a little better...

This playbill, my playbill reads of many clinical situations and statistics. These two stand out the most.

• 51% of marriages end in divorce.

• 100% of marriages require sacrifice and compromise to be successful. 

The curtains are drawn and the plot proceeds.

I'm from the south. The southern ideal is to get married, settle down and have a family. I, am no southern bell- much to my mothers dismay, I might add. I can't tell you how many times my mom has hinted, or straight up asked me when I was going to get married already.

There is so much pressure to accomplish these goals in my family, and I- Kindra Starr McHenry do not see myself ever living any aspect of my life in a conventional manner. I've been there, done that- got the tee-shirt. (No really I have a tee-shirt...) and I have no interest in ever going back to that place, because it JUST WASN'T ME.

 I was having a long discussion about all this with my best friend earlier tonight and I came to an epic realization: I have no desire to ever get married, or even be in a conventional relationship.

on that note, I will write more tomorrow. :)

Who Inspires you?

My mom inspires me, I know, I know cliche... but really. She has accomplished a great feat that I set out to do myself. She has overcome massive challenging obstacles that have tried to hinder her walk with God, and she has found an amazing balance to life where she has outlets to exercise all of her talents and gifts. There is nothing that I wish and strive for more in life than to accomplish both of these things. My mom is an amazing woman, and if I am a fraction of what she is I will be satisfied. :)

Ask me anything

Life's not fair.

The past few days have been especially difficult for me and many of the comrades I've known for years from my High School.

Roland Espinoza had a light that found few and far between the majority of people I've ran across in this lifetime. His smile beamed, and his silly antics kept everyone rolling around giggling even when we were all about to get in masses of trouble. He was smart, cute, and an amazing friend to many.

There were a few people from my class of 2007 that seemed to bind the entire class together into one group and Roland was one of those key people. He was friends with everyone, never caused drama and always was there to ease the tension.

It was not too long ago that I saw him for the first time in a while since Graduation day. I randomly decided to pop into a party in Austin with some old High School acquaintances were. When I walked through the door Roland was standing there huge smile, and a hug waiting. He genuinely cared- he genuinely wanted to be friends with everyone.

The East Central Class of 2006, and 2007 have been exposed to death all too much. The human instinct in me wants to scream at the top of my lungs that it's not fair, that all too many GOOD, AMAZING people have been taken all too soon from us.

Carlos Moran, deserved to attend his jr. and sr. prom, deserved to walk the stage at graduation, deserved the mountain tops... RIP Carlos, you're missed by us all still now and still forever. I love you, and your words have saved me in many more ways than you could know. I know you're always with me, and I know you have been my guardian angel both before you left this earth and now. Thank you for everything- if I could trade you spaces you know I would.

Sara Strey, was the sweetest girl everyone knew. I didn't know her particularly personally, but what I do know of her is nothing but greatness.

Roland... oh Ro... you are deeply missed. By SOO many people. I can't believe you're gone.

It's just not fair... life's just not fair.

Not know

totally nonsensical or sensationally profound? your choice:

Keys in the sink, running water- flow till hotter.

Ring on the floor glimmer gleaming- water steaming.

We've been here before: once or twice, maybe more.

Again with these balled up bullets of banter-canter.

Lens-less senseless glasses hook tight.

No use at all, perfection is natural sight.

Sparks from the sink, words my lips sing.

flaming finger tips force feed fleeing hips.

For what we adore, this floor, seamless loving.

-ksm

Wait

I wait for the day that too good to be true isnt- notice I'm still waiting.

Live, Learn, & then Get Luvs...

      There comes a time in life when having a diaper bag attached to your hip is more dire than cellular phone or debt card. Motherhood. Previously notioned personally to consist of dollar signs, dark circles under heavy sleep deprived eyes and the horrid overpowering smell of light death- someone named it baby powder, I think? Poop filled pee drenched drool covered dreams of babies turned me off from the subject completely until one little man came waltzing into my life. Jack, oh Jack :) just typing his name and I can feel the outer lids of my eyes start to smile while my cheeks pull my lips to curl.
      I was the youngest of my biological siblings, my younger sister Ana was only a year younger than me so I never really experienced baby sitting or things of that sort, she has always just been my best friend and companion in chaos. I think that maybe this lineage had scaffed me into maternal hiding. It was so bad at one point a couple of years back that I asked my mom to pay for me to get my tubes tied for Christmas!!! Yeah, I had a seriously problem, trust me- she didn't hold back on that one haha.
      So I never baby sat, or really had any interaction with young children, ever... And then my older sister and her husband went and make a little miracle... Jack... hmmm :) Only six months in the mix of this incredibly overwhelming world and Jack has made a more dramatic influence on me than anyone else I can think of, except for my mother of course. I don't mean to undermine the relationships I have with everyone else by any means. Jack has just changed something inside of me that I can't explain.
      His reign on my heart actually began before he had ever experienced the light of day. Last winter was an extremely trying period for me and I was in a huge crater of depression. I remember zoning out in morning Austin traffic, I was at the Riverside exit when I snapped to in an instant with only a spare second to slam my bulleting car to a halt and avoid collision. I instantly started bawling, screaming, pounding on my steering wheel, yelling gibberish- I honestly don't know what I said but in my head I was thinking "I shouldn't have stopped I should have sped up, I wish I had wrecked, I need to get help, I wish I had crashed, I wish I had died...." My brain and body stopped simultaneously. (That almost never happens, in fact getting my brain to ever stop is a feat) In that very moment that I wished death upon myself I thought of baby Jack, in my sisters belly... ripening up like a watermelon, almost ready to thump with ripeness.
     My brain began thinking again... "It's not about me anymore, what kind of life would my nephew have if I wasn't in it, how would my death scar his childhood and my sister, mom, family and how they interacted with him, any influence I would ever have on him would be gone forever... I am so selfish, it's not about me anymore, I swear it."
     I can honestly say that in that instant I had only an eclipse of what kind of emotional impact Jack would have on me. Today, for the first time ever I played mommy for a day. I took Jack all by myself to his doctor's appointment in Austin and took care of him all on my own. I was nervous, I'm not going to lie, but all went well and it occurred to me driving home later how I was driving more cautiously, aware of his every move, and how I had beamed at every smile he gave out to passers by, or to any new development he had accomplished for the day.
     I know this feeling is only a smidgen of what I will feel for my own children someday, but for the first time in my life I can say: I Kindra Starr McHenry want to someday have children. Up until now I was unsure if I even had a clock, and now... it's faintly ticking. Next step? To find the right man that will wind me up to full speed- - - but we can take our time on that one :) thanks!

So with all of this realization the slogan for Luvs diapers has a whole new meaning for me... It's not talking about trial and error with experimenting with other brands of diapers... It's saying Live your life, learn from your mistakes and others, and then settle down and have a baby when you're good and ready. I think I'm still at that learning part. But we're moving forward.

Writing from back when....

So cleaning out my old bedroom at my parents house I found these samples of writing from... geeze I dunno, 7th-9th grade-ish age haha. It's weird to me that I was such an emotionally unstable kid, but it is what it is- oh and for the record... I never did drugs so I dont know why or what I was thinking about at the time I wrote the one about drugs... might have been a metaphor, don't really remember :)


The fragrance, and the aroma encircle me. Slowly I can taste the sweet, sappy taste in my mouth. It waters, my mouth that is, the sweet sensation fills my mind, my soul, my every desire in this body I inhabit. This irresistible taste is the sultry tingle of revenge, and Oh! How it controls me. My mind filled with thoughts of what I could do to enable my senses to catch another swooping hit of the fleeting moment of perfect vengeance. Sweet drug, fill me- evil thoughts? Yes, I know.

We live for the drugs- Hit to Hit.
After our highs the downs come in.
Come down, around, and sink-in-soak, sulk...
We live for the heights that reach us, though.
"Grasp us, hold onto us!" we beg but they go.
The good ones, the nice shit,
The down pressing down
Till again, we inhale.
Soak it in, seep it reach, hit to hit.
The hurt that we feel
No end in sight-
Sight to the sky, wanna be high
oh God, the high that you fly-
Let me fall just to fall.


         The smiles don't come as easy anymore. Warm fresh tears running down my cheeks have become a ritual every night, no fail. Every morning, awake alone again. Reflections stare back as I wash off sticky-salty nose and cheeks. Another day- beginning... without you in it. Another persona- to persuade everyone's belief that I'm fine. I'm fine. I can say it- I can't mean it, I can't feel it. I hate this routine, things were natural with you. Simple. Easy. Real... on my part. There were only two things that I had to know: You & Me.
         Well it's not that anymore. Hasn't been for a while now. You've gotten on with such ease. Me, I'm stuck, immobile, and paralyzed. I'm stuck here in tear stained letters, faded pictures and promises. Reading words that don't apply, wondering if they ever did. Memories scattered- on walls, in frames, to the back of my eyelids. Everything a reminder, every night nine digits dance on my fingertips. I long to press them again, speak words that you'll hear. How I adore you, always have always will. But I've tried. Not a budge, you're deaf to my pleas. It's hard to believe that was a little over a year now.


If no one ever knows what I've done
Then who is there to drag me down?
Again and again I hold it in,
Look at this web of stress I've spun.

There's no one close enough to trust.
This one knows this the rest will know that.
I'd like to get it out, get it open, be free.
I'm sorry though I can't it's just....

If only there were someone who didn't judge me like the rest.
Someone gentle, confidential, who could take this off my chest.
Oh, how I long to be able to confess-
But who in this world wouldn't judge me like the rest?

There are many a times I lie flat on my face,
The strength to get up sometimes forgetting to come.

"Peel" a poem by Kindra Mchenry

Your peace sign perpetrators stealing years from my heart

Outsourcing bone pierces, singes and tears.

Peel, may it must- up and down, back and forth.

Exchanging of solutions both in their place dire.

Pare, from my shadow a film that is so skewed,

A life full of circus mirrors looking back at me.

What will terrify this demon in me leave?

Deafness, no Blindness, no Cancer, no- none.

Each lunge, you peel another year that belongs to me.

A steady demise, oh lost lover of control.

You have a hold of my life in your acids.

Give me it back, just leave me be, please!

My wish is to have never known you,

Peel taste, flavor, sting from my tongue.

You are the demon in my eardrum,

Pealing, pleading, screaming my insides they tear.

Ex-lover of a lifetime, will this divorce ever commence?

See by Sea Poetry- Inspired by La Jolla Cove

This is an actual picture of La Jolla Cove where I sat to write this and was inspired by it all

Generations of waves sweep the shore.

Frothy their mouths foam and reach from each core,

fighting and twisting they race to the sand.

meanwhile, Mother Nature slurps back from the land:

"Come home where it's safe, where it's deep, where it's blue-

back to billions of gallons protecting over you!"

Still holding steady they sprint feisty-tight

against her pull they press with uncanny might.

Yearning for a chance at a life so different from dull.

Falling backwards, then upwards, rushing-pushing to pull.

"Maybe I'll be mud, I'll be dew, I'll be air...

These grains of rock give me freedom from the depths of despair!"

They fight swell by swell to a world of unknown,

some reaching cliffs with a burst to the stone.

Each will end different, some will retreat,

but those who fight vigorously, land they will meet,

swishing and swirling into-the-earth drops keep-

some to the skies, till the rain clouds seep...

All destinations are right, none are wrong

It's a circle that continues infinity long.

Destination dire- differences never clashing

Watch me struggle from the deep to reach the sand that I'm grasping.

by: Kindra McHenry

untitled: Vanilla Sky Moment

DISCLAIMER: this is really annoyingly drawn out and long, please dont waste your time reading it, i promise it's not that interesting or witty as usual. Sorry :(

Description is my canvas, my outlet, my voice in conveying the way my mind evolves on it's self... I can write all day about a single memory, or the detail of something simple that most people don't give a second glance to. But this feeling that engulfs me, overwhelms me and overtakes me is even for me indescribable. 

Here and there for thousands of horizons on end I've said to a few selects of my reservations at the restaurants of insanity. I've valet parked, walked the glamor of it's entrance and been enticed to believe that I belong here, for whatever reason... 

I say enticed- but really it's just years of self conviction, just thought I'd cue for a little honesty there. 

I've only sat ever on the waiting list, though. Sitting at the bar waiting for someone to cancel, for someone to call my number- it's 1013... they are no where close... staring at the menu wondering which dish of gluttonous insanity will be set in front of me to devour in one swealthy sitting... I'm a pig. I could slowly indulge in it's glorious overtaking of me- perhaps even take it to-go and save some for later, but I wont. In my mind I would like to think I would- but hey, like I said I'm being honest here.

No self control.

I mean look at me, I've been sitting in this lounge waiting for my number to be pulled to the top for about 11 years now and have scored up a bill of martinis even Donatella Versace would be ashamed of. Not to mention the healthy appetizer of diseased disorder that I order upon myself for a couple years now. Good choice Kindra, fantastic choice! Way to choose the hardest thing to ever overcome. That was smart, stupid idiot of a girl.

I'm a self made disaster. And there's only going to be a place setting for one at this table, I swear it. That is the one consistent thing I have maintained in this life. I will not, absolutely refuse, to entangle someone else in my web of crazy. No one deserves that. Not even the lowliest of my ex-boyfriends that I have let loose over time. I know that by inviting someone else to accompany me on this journey of insanity that I have paved in front of me, that I am also foraging their signature on a contract of hidden fees and services that entails lots and lots of emotional pain. Nope, no one deserves that. 

One of my favorite quotes of my own: "I don't mean to go all, Walk to Remember on you, but PLEASE do not fall in love with me..." Figures that I said that to my now ex of the longest relationship I've ever carried. Haha.

ANYWAY sitting here tonight I've realized something... I'm not insane... I'm not going insane, although, in all honesty I sometime wish I were because it would be so much simpler... I just have this unexplainable pressure built up in my temples, this hand reaching over my mouth deciding when I can breath, and when I can choke. This haze that lives in the backs of my eyelids, and this grip that squeezes my brain sometimes till it wants to pop out my ears. This weight lives strapped to my shoulders and shackles that cling to my ankles hindering the movement my body is allowed. Tears flow, pain follows, and sleep takes over. I don't really know for sure what it is, but I have a pretty good idea. 

Problem is, I don't have the means to fix it... Realizing all of this tonight, I figure I've been waiting for my number to be called all this time, when it probably wont at all... what kind of demented person sits around waiting to go insane? Almost impatiently waiting for the moment to strike them down and own them. I would be astonished, but I knew a long time ago that I was fucked up. 

I'm in the wrong place... but I think I'll leave after one last drink... yes I'll just have one more drink.

Question of the Day:

Where is home...?

"Saved by Grace - Destroyed by Nievity"

I feel so behind with all of this... It seems to me that if I don't make the time to post daily everything piles up so deeply in the crevices of skull that it takes extra effort to extract those thoughts. It's no help that the gadgets of my brain have been working overtime. But they are starting to grind and wear on each other so here's my attempt to get as much out as possible it one fell swoop:

I've been involved lately with one of those awkward times in life where you feel like you are in a complete standstill- yet your falling uncontrollably fast... Fast down into a hole that you seemed to have missed the sign informing you on where it was going to spit you out.

Funny, now that I write it down, that sounds quite a bit like Alice- which is only fitting with the movie making it's debut shortly.

Anyhow, the past weeks with the move to California have been an indescribable roller coaster of stationary emoting. The thrill of the move, the excitement of new things, places, people and adventure put me on one of my manic highs where I feel like I can do no wrong.

WRONG. I like to prove this to myself best when I get these highs... it's pretty much a hobby of mine.

So then the lows came flooding in... I don't really know what you know or care to posses knowledge about me and my emotions- but in short: Manic Depressant sums up those things. I've made a lot of really bad decisions in my days but this last one has really effected me in a different way than the rest...

The first days I got to California were horrid. I had bad decisions nipping at my heels, and weighing on my mind. So what's the best way to cope with these situations? Hibernation of course! So I slept. I pretty much never got out of bed... If I did I didn't leave N&J's house. I had no real reason to get out and about, and had all the reason to stay under the covers where I didn't have to face the world that was still revolving uncontrollably around me.

Somehow in my sick twisted mind I hope when I get like this that the world will eventually forget about me and move on and forget about the problems I have caused it.

Well Hidey-Hoe that's not how it works, now is it?

I knew I needed to mend some fences, and more than that- fix myself. There is no way in HELL that I can survive out in Califonia, 1200 miles from the goodness and stability of my family, unless I do.

So here's the challenge I've laid out in front of myself with my situation. With this move I have not only proved to physically move the furthest from my family I've ever been, but I've also realized that I personally am the furthest from God that I may have been in my entire life... that my friends, is terrifying... and that is why I have been hiding under my covers.

For a while now I've known that my walk wasn't hand in hand like it should be, but I never realized how much I was really walking alone until my shit hit the fan.

I know- that facing this industry without his guidance is suicide.

I know- that making decisions to please myself has been slowly and silently killing me.

I know- that in order to be the best I can be, I need him.

And I know- that I have a lot of work and changes to start that process to develop myself back into the person that I know I can be. 

I want to radiate God's grace, love and mercy. I want to have faith in his plan for me. I want him to be the center of my decisions and actions. And I want him to be the reason for my being. Because frankly, when I try to be just to be me- it's not worth it.

So that's where I've been mentally. Physically I've come back to Texas for a surprise visit to the family and to mentally reinstate and focus myself. I'm leaving back to California this afternoon with a plan of action and a determination that cannot be toppled.

Here's to a new beginning.

Deprivation

A look of disbelief creeps through the centers of the eyes... pupil--- to the whites change in a way that can only be explained with intensity. The outsides of the eyelids tighten... Jaw loosens slightly to allow a small shaped 'o' accumulate. As I continue to discuss childhood each word that pours from my tongue seems to make my audiences eyes widen into circled 'o's to match the mouth. If I could pause time in this instance to draw on your face I would. PAUSE: I would make pretty perfect circles on your lips, eyes, cheeks, nose, maybe three on the fore-of-you-head just for shits and giggles. Then you would look as ridiculous as I feel you look for reacting like this to what I'm telling you... Growing up, and even to this day- when I tell people about my childhood the usual reaction goes generally as noted above promptly followed by some sort of structured sentence including the word DEPRIVED. Before I continue, let us take a little field trip to the library and look up the technical meaning of this jumble of consanents and nouns so commonly used in the description of my youth... side note: mmmmmm the smell of books. "Deprived: Marked by deprivation especially of the necessities of life or healthful environmental influences." and even better another describes it as: "Lacking in advantage, opportunity, or experience." So what in the HECK could I be saying to all these separately associated people throughout the years that would give them all this impression... I'll give you some hints for what it's not... It's not that... -family couldn't afford food or shelter or clothing... -I came from a broken family and/or there was a link missing... -I didn't get to travel and experience lots of things... So what on earth could these Americanized Humans be referring to?!?! Ah... Cable TV and Game Systms... Yup that's right mr./mrs. 'O' face I grew up with no Cable or any sort of video games. And honestly I think I'm better off because of it. You see I have this theory... I think because my sisters and I grew up "lacking" these things from our households it forced us to develope mad imaginations and a love for reading that many people from this generation are simply put: missing completely from the innerds of their skulls. My imagination is so vivid that I picture things happening as they happen and I can view complete scenes that I'm imagining that were sparked from something tiny that happened in my day. So really... I think deprived is the furthest word from the truth... I think I'm completely and utterly BLESSED to have grown up without those things. They have shaped me into the intensively creative monster that I am, and I would not want to be any other way. So stick that in your "o" mouth and suck it.

Thoughts in a coffee shop:

If I can't Love me- then how do I expect to Let You?! Someday I will be the gray-haired dame sipping on words from the paper and digesting coffee and pastries. Contemplating- the long lost suitors who had once fallen for my young charms and wondering, "where they had all gone?" I will remain in loneliness. It's funny to me in a tragic way because I can see it all so clearly unfolding before my eyes. Hind-sight is 20/20 but my future seems 20/19. I can see it all happening. I can see myself deconstructing every ounce of potential you have in my eyes. I am easily amused, yet constantly distracted. Positivity radiates from my smile and actions YET- adding someone extra to the equation seems to inevitably weigh me down. Ball and Chain seems imminent to me. So eager to find love, just to have the opportunity to tear it to shreds. I cannot love myself. Years of self inflicted abuse and neglect have ruined me in this area. Such loving parents: Such a stable family: How did I end up so effed up? It has been years since I have taken the time, energy, and focus to write. I miss you outlet. My left hand holds delicately and slides eagerly across the page. My hand tires trying to maintain speed with my brain. Pain, calluses- unimportant side effects of this drug. These thoughts must escape me- suppressed too long they are flooding... rushing... running wild... Momentary Honesty bestows me. It's been a while. Hello Me :) Hello Beautiful demented little twisted ol' me... We should do this more often :) Priceless: this random man just passed by me smiled and said "Your head is about to explode isn't it?" Why YES SIR IT ISSS!... KA BOOOOOM! :)

Mind of Movement & Movies

Part of my manic sort of attention deffest mind thrives on observing life and movement of people and their surroundings as if it were a movie. Maybe others can't connect with the feeling, but I get so excited when my windshield wipers sync to the rhythm of a song, or I hit a dip in the road just as a symbol crashes. Simple pleasures, but they brighten my day indeed. Being a dancer I used to mainly picture life as a musical, or music video but lately I've been viewing it in more of a cinematic standpoint. "People walk. Cold hallways. Heads Down Please. Why sure, society! I'll place my head down in obedience. Don't mind me. Don't mind my eyes that reach upwards to observe what you have to offer. I see you. You cannot hide from me. I can read you like a book with my head down so you don't suspect. Like a sleuth. OH! This is getting juicy... Tantalizing details that all too often are overlooked. You and your details tell me everything. The possibility that I know you better than you're own mother, father, and best mate is more than either of us would like to recognize. You see. I see. Your problem. And while most would sit back and enjoy the show, watch you crash and burn for entertainment- I cannot. I was not made that way. Though most of the time I wish I were. You see, sweet Je-amie, I cannot see your face but your cuts and bruises ring loud and clear. Knuckles red, scars fresher than makeup could cover. I wont meet you eye to eye. It will only cloud my judgment of the situation- like everyone elses view of you. No, I'm here for a greater purpose. Keep your haze. Give me your hand. Heads down please. We have work to be done." This is an idea based on concept for a movie to be shot using little to no faces only cinematic shots of body language and movement to illustrate what really is going on. The main premises is that the narrator/main character can read people's body language to a tee and helps people she runs across with depression, relationship, whatever types of problems. Well the narrator runs into Je-amie who she can instantly read as a major case who is bulimic, and cuts herself. All of the efforts of the narrator go to helping her out, Je-amie had been playing this game for a long time, hiding from people, not trusting anyone or letting them know the read her. The narrator persists- with extreme consequences resulting in it- I think that if I could make this movie exactly how I wanted to it would be mainly narration of her thoughts and processes but there would have to be some dialogue between her and je-amie at some points...

Sisters

The selfish sister- the youngest of all, Following in shadows, terrified to fall. She put her claim on me quick! and never let go. I was always first pick to her and it showed. But then... We grew older- or rather she did, And boys became better... as little sister hid.

I wanted that friend. That bond we had known. But I couldn't compete. My sister had grown. Never again--- as close. Never again--- like when we were young.

Still thinking about it whips wind from my lung.

I love her so dearly, I miss her so much! But I see things clearly- We will stay out of touch. My sister and I had always been extremely close growing up. I remember the phase where she started like boys and wanted to talk on the phone rather than play barbies with me. It broke my heart, and so of course in best little sister style I attempted to annoy her as much as possible :).

I thought that those years were the trying years... WOW, how the scope of things changes with age.

We have both made our mistakes and have come together just to fall a bit back apart at times but one thing never changes. I love my sister more than anything. She is, and will always be the largest influence on my life and my best friend. I wrote this poem a while back while we were in the midst of a feud that was in cause by me. In placing a boyfriend before our relationship and my sister moving to California it seemed like things would never be mended. Three years later when I received news that she would be moving back I knew some personal changes needed to be made. She has been back now for about eight months and things have been better than ever. Of course that's not where the story gets to end... With recent news of my relocation to California (YA! WHERE SHE JUST CAME BACK FROM!!!) This poem still seems to ring true, but in a different light. Oh, circle of life- you're sense of humor annoys me at times.

Hunger for.

So I had those word magnets on my fridge for a good year and never used them, and then in an attempt to delay the packing process I decided to make something out of them. They were all words that had to do with diet, so using what I had this is what I came up with:

Sip Desire, Burn Calories,

Expect love to pepper your portion.

Stay over in delicious denial.

A lean splurge to Satisfy. Wait. Down the fruit of body energy handles- Toast me, Butter and Bite!

Fortune's for Future.

I used to collect ALL of my fortune cookie fortunes growing up... and let me tell you- I love my Chinese food :) but these are the few that I have managed to keep all these years mainly because they all invoke curiosity and/or excitement in me: Happiness is a state of mind.

side note: this fortune I got when I was in middle school and it's really a great example of how the tiniest things can affect your everyday life. This simple sentence lived on all of my spirals through middle school and high school. This idea that you control your reaction to the things around you has really help mold me into the person that I am today. I recognize that in certain situations I have to personally choose to be happy that it's not going to just come natural. So thank you, whoever out there wrote this seemingly simple fortune because it's effected me in a greater way than you could have ever guessed.

They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world. Someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.

Do not wait for others to open the right doors for you.

You are an artistic person- let your colors show.

Your curious nature will take you somewhere special.

Good things come to those that wait. Be patient.

The nightlife is for you.

A new pair of shoes will do you a world of good. (AMEN! :))

Some chance of glamor and excitement is coming to you.

Focus on your long-term goal.

Participation in sports may lead you to a lucrative career. (I hope so...)

Good news will come to you from far away.

Rely on long time friends to give you advice.

You will be rewarded for being a good listener.

Endurance and persistence will be rewarded.

I like to keep all of these randomly around my apartment because it always seems that they show up when I need to hear them most.

Addictions: round 1

"I remember the single moment that my addiction began. The moment it took hold of me and has never seemed to loosen its grasp since. The threads of it pull tighter around me at certain times more than others- wraps it's laces around me and draws me in.

I Blame it on Her.

It's her Fault. My issue, but her Fault.

The moments I spend in its tantalizing presence reminds me of her and it makes me feel closer to her. I spend extensive periods of time thinking of how she would love to see all the colors and detail that were so carefully crafted. She would be impressed, just as impressed as me in fact.

The cabinet was old, dusty in parts but when I walked in the room and stumbled upon it- it seemed to glow. It radiated elegance... substance... creativity and its luxe lured me in closer. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

They were tiny, but perfect.

I wanted them all to be real- leather, stitched, with tassels and all of their magnificent details. I wished they were large enough that I could slip my toes into their bellies and parade them about so everyone could marvel at them as I was. I wanted to be able to use them and love them like they deserved like they were purposed. But these were not leather, nor could they be worn by even a doll.

Porcelain, Clay, and even Glass they were tiny 2 inch figurines of what could be marvelous shoes.

She gave me my favorite one, my grandmother did that is. She passed on her addiction to me. Shoes. It's all about shoes." I wrote this two years ago as a writing assignment and found it today. This entry is dedicated to Marian Sawvel, my grandmother who passed away mid 2009 of brain cancer. In her last days I found this writing and read it to her. It made her smile that I blamed it all on her, and she told me that she was proud to have passed on the addiction to me. When she passed away I received almost all of her tiny shoes- but now days I've moved onto real sized specimens. With over 80 pairs of shoes in my closet I like to think that my grandma smiles that sly smile every time I buy a new pair.