Track of my tears

Yesterday I had my heart broken. Not just bruised or fractured; broken. And I'm certain this isn't the end of the pain; it's just the beginning of a wave that will ripple for quite a while. As soon as I heard the news that broke my heart, I called my best friend. Somehow she was able to understand a bit of my rambling through my hysterical sobbing and ordered me to her house. When I arrived, she had ordered Chinese food and her sweet husband had run to the store to buy me flowers. Such a thoughtful gesture.

I proceeded to pig out on sweet & sour chicken and mint chocolate chip ice cream (yes, I had a belly ache). Then I curled up on the couch with my best friend and let loose all the hurt and pain and tears. Four years of hope and tears and prayers have finally begun to come to an end. And it hurts more than I could have ever fathomed. I'm not one to fall easily and when I do, I do it big time. The bigger the risk, the bigger the rewards. And the bigger and grander the pain and heartache when it doesn't work out.

Sugar and Skullcandy

The other night I stayed up late to finish The Sugar Queen by Sarah Addison Allen (I adore her name). LOVED this book. Charming and humorous and just down-right likable. Perhaps one of the reasons I'm so enamored with this novel is because of one character's enchanting relationship with books. Also, I might have a small crush on Adam.


Another thing I'm hooked on? These headphones from Skullcandy. I'm addicted to my iPods and I have snazzy pink Roxy earbuds but I want something a bit more comfortable for long flights or listening to music in bed. These are perfect...and they have pink fur.

Slacker

It's Monday morning and I didn't accomplish one single thing on my weekend to-do list. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic. What I did accomplish: watched three movies, finished a book, loaded ten CDs into iTunes, and got through disc 3 of season one of Veronica Mars. Holy heck, I'm a slacker.

Eat Pray Love

When this book was first published I heard quite a bit about it but then I was inundated with three or four texts per class which didn't leave a lot of time for leisure reading. With spring semester over, and me taking a break from school this summer, I'm finally getting around to reading Eat Pray Love. And let me tell you, I am thoroughly enjoying it. I devoured Italy, had a bit of trouble getting through India (the author's spiritual beliefs often conflicted with my own) and am knee-deep in Indonesia. There are so many wonderful quotes and lines in this book, often from people other than the author. The book, despite it's often inherently serious topics, is light-hearted and filled with humor. The other wonderful thing about the book is that it's easy to pick up where you left off. Each "bead" (you'll understand when you read the book) is independent enough to be read on it's own but also flows with the entirety of the book.


My favorite lines so far:

"It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebody else's life with perfection."

"This smile will make you beautiful woman. This will give you power of to be very pretty. You can use this power- pretty power!- to get what you want in life. "


"We must get our hearts broken sometimes. This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something. "

And, of course, I now desperately want to travel to both Italy and Bali.

Come Apart

A close friend of mine often uses the phrase "come apart" to describe a breakdown...it's the Mississippi girl in her. That's what I'm having this week (a come apart, I mean). I am tired and cranky and moody. I've dealt with more heartache in the past four days than I've encountered in a long time. I'm down to 900 calories a day to lose weight and that alone is enough to make me spit nails. I'm scattered and unfocused and all over the place. My apartment is a mess and my clean laundry is all over the bedroom floor. I have a phone book and no less than 10 door hangar/fliers on my front stoop that I need to pick up and throw away. I have a leaky fridge and a messy car.

Yet I can't seem to do anything but pull myself out of bed in the morning, go to work, and then come home and crash on the sofa until the clock strikes 8:30PM and I can justify going to bed. Because, I lie to myself, I am going to get up at 5:30AM and go to the gym so it's okay to go to bed at 8:30PM. But the next morning I'll hit snooze for over an hour until I absolutely have to get up or I'll be late to work.

There was a time in my early twenties when this went on for years. I tried to shake it but I just couldn't. It took a few life-altering events to wake me from my stupor. And I'm wondering if that's what it's going to take this time. But I don't want life-altering events. I don't want a new job or a new place to live. I just want my love to be returned. For once I want someone to care more about me than they do themselves. I want the whispers and the arms at night to be real and not just the half-asleep conjurings of an exhausted mind.

Three Hour Tour

It's Monday morning and I am functioning (and I use that word lightly) on three hours of sleep. I fell, literally, into bed at 3:00AM this morning...after sucking down a bottle of water in record time because I'd been sitting outside, in the Arizona heat, for the previous three hours.

Somehow I managed to get up this morning (only 30 minutes late) shower, dress and hit the road in record time. But then I was zoning on the drive in and nearly rear-ended a construction truck. I slammed on my brakes so hard the anti-lock switched on. And now I think I have whiplash.

The point of the story? Well, there really isn't one. Except maybe to not stay up until 3AM on school nights. And to not toss strawberry milkshake-flavored Whopper's on to plant shelves. But that's an entirely different story.