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I was outside this evening, looking around at the dull, dead, yellowed grass and the skeletal trees. I always become introspective when I am surrounded by nature like that, and I am able to be alone in my thoughts.

I often wander what it would be like to be more a part of nature. Perhaps, to be a bud that comes to leaf and blows with the wind and feel the sun flowing through my green veins. To expell life giving oxygen and shield the robin's nest, only to end my life cascading to the ground to rest on the red and golded blanket of those who went before me.

I became heartened at the thought that soon the days that are now short and abbreviated will become long and languid. The seasons never cease to change.

Do you think Mother Nature is more forgiving than Father Time? She continually replenishes herself, while he takes the vibrancy of our youth and makes it a hagard thing to behold.

I used to feel, at times ,that my season had stagnated and wouldn't come at all. How things can change in a season or a year. The bent and ragged trees represent death to me, because death is on my mind right now, as my aunt lies even now drawing her last breaths. She was long in this world, at least in our perspective of time, but in the scope of the history of the world, her life only equals to a grain of sand. May she rest in peace.

This is the book I am currently reading


The following summary has been excerpted from the book jacket.


In a very short time, Isabel Allende has won the allegiance and affection of readers and reviewers around the world - first with The House of the Spirits (praised by Alexander Coleman in The New York Times Book Review as “a unique achievement, both personal witness and possible allegory of the past, present and future of Latin America”), followed closely by Of Love and Shadows (of which Jonathan Yardley said in The Washington Post Book World, “The people...are so real, their triumphs and defeats are so faithful to the truth of human existence, that we see the world in miniature. This is precisely what fiction should do”). Now, in Eva Luna, she has written her most ambitious and original work, a book that makes the foreign both familiar and welcoming, a book that confirms beyond any doubt her status as a major literary presence.

“My name is Eva, which means “life,” according to a book of names my mother consulted. I was born in the back room of a shadowy house, and grew up amidst ancient furniture, books in Latin, and human mummies, but none of these things made me melancholy, because I came into the world with a breath of the jungle in my memory...“ This is the voice that carries us through Eva Luna, the assured voice of a naturally inventive storyteller, a woman who relates to us the picaresque tale of her own life (born poor, orphaned early, she will eventually rise to a position of unique influence) and of the people - from all levels of society - that she meets along the way. They include the rich and eccentric, for whom she works as a servant...the Lebanese emigré who befriends her and takes her in... her unfortunate godmother, whose brain is addled by rum, and who believes in all the Catholic saints, some of African origin and a few of her own invention, a street urchin who grows into a petty criminal and, later, a leader in the guerrilla struggle, a celebrated transsexual entertainer who instructs her, with great tenderness and insight, in the ways of the adult world, a young refugee whose flight from postwar Europe will prove crucial to Eva's fate...

As Eva tells her story, Isabel Allende conjures up a whole complex South American nation - the rich, the poor, the simple, and the sophisticated - in a novel replete with character and incident, with drama and comedy and history, a novel that will delight and increase her devoted audience.

5 movies that changed my life. In no particular order.


1. The English Patient
2. Crash
3. Schindler's List
4. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
5. Amadeus

This is a subform of my journal where I plan to include the lyrics to some of my favorite songs. First up:


The Blowers' Daugher by Damien Rice
And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new

Stardust
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we're apart

You wander down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust of yesterday
The music of the years gone by

Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
Now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song

Beside a garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
A paradise where roses bloom
Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain




Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps
You won't admit you love me
And so
How am I ever
To know
You only tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

A million times I ask you
And then
I ask you over
Again
You only answer
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't wanna' wind up
Being parted, broken hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes
But if you don't, dear,
Confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

If you can't make your mind up
We'll never get started
And I don't wanna' wind up
Being parted, broken hearted

So if you really love me
Say yes
But if you don't, dear,
Confess
And please don't tell me
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

Dreamsome by Shelby Lynne
In the dark I can hear you whisper
shadows still, move across the distance

What did you say, it's okay
Did you miss me
Did you miss me

Make it mine, takin' time, forgotten
speak for me, silent plea, surrender

What did you say, it's okay
Did you miss me
Did you miss me

You know at times I wondered
if you ever thought of me
and I wondered if you wanted to be free
like me, and I needed to feel you and
I wondered did you miss me baby, oh yeah

Turn to gray, bluer shade, when the sun comes
Peaceful time, cease your mind, Dreamsome

What did you say, it's okay, oh baby
Did you miss me
Did you miss me
Did you miss me
Did you miss me

I have a really good sense of direction

I am good at mimicing accents

I hate confrontation

I cry at the drop of a hat

I was hit by a car when I was 12

I had my jaw dislocated in a wreck at 13

I was thrown from my brother's truck when I was 14

I still decided to drive

I used to listen to "thriller" everynight before bed -age 5

I can wiggle my ears

My favorite flavor of ice cream is mint chocolate chip

I am afraid of stinging scorpions

I was in the Math Club in high school--I hate math

I have a 4 and 1/2 octave range rolleyes

Some hard earned knowledge: Never get involved
with someone who cannot (or will not) discuss their emotions, or who
will not share what is in their hearts. People who fail to be intimate
with those who are close to them, are people who will never truly
love, and never truly understand the love you have to give. And,
though it may sound strange, never give your heart to anyone who
shows no interest in your passions, who will not read what you write,
will not at least find your oddities strangely charming, who
consistently chooses everything else over you. Love is give and take,
never be afraid to 'give', but never deny yourself some 'take' either.
And when someone shows you love, cherish every moment because this
lovely gift is usually fleeting. And remember to do all you can for
your lover, understanding that you are the architect of gentle dreams
and the author of warm nostalgic memories that will one day comfort
their hearts.

Your Life: The Soundtrack
So heres how it works:
Open your choice of music player [iTunes, Limewire, KAzaa,Windows ect.] and put it on shuffle.
Press play.
For every question type the song thats on.
And when you go to a new question press the next button.
No cheating.
Ready?
GO!

Opening credit:
Love You Madly--Cake


Waking up:
Good Hearted Woman-Willie Nelson


Average day:
Sparkling Diamonds--Moulin Rouge (OMIGOD)


First date:
You Got the Love--Candi Stanton

Falling in love:
My Funny Valentine--Nina Simone

Fight scene:
Don't Stand So Close to me--Police


Breaking up:
30 Minutes--T.A.T.U.

Getting back together: Make it Alright--Carl Thomas


Life's okay:
Stand by me-The Temptations


Mental breakdown: Papa Don't Preach--Madonna


Driving:
Interstate Love Song-Stone Temple Pilots

Flashback:
Blue eyes crying in the rain--willie nelson


Partying:Will you love me tomorrow--Carol King


Happy dance:
You are my sunshine-Nat King Cole

Regretting:
it's too late-carol king


Long night alone:
Don't make me wait--seal


Death scene: May it Be--Enya


End credits:
Come away with me-Norah Jones

When I was much younger I had a serious passion for the written word and started writing my first novel. I have since fallen in love with other things and grow faint of heart when I think of my unfinished opus hidden and gathering dust.

So.....I have decided that I will do my best to get in the habit of writing something every day, no matter what it is, no matter how trivial it may seem and whether or not anyone other than myself reads it.

For those hapless few, who, in the course of surfing this site, might stumble upon my journal, I warn you...What follows will be dull, personal, embarrasing, erotic, narcissistic, truth stranger than fiction, cathartic and me.