"It's New"

It's like an ache, slowly pulsing through your body, without end. He's there next to you or he's miles away, still the ache stays with you. You want him. In every way possible, you want him. Next to you, on top of you, underneath you, inside of you. Physically, emotionally, you want him. Do you know that feeling? Have you felt it before? It's intoxicating, it's like drowning, it's exhilarating and suffocating all at the same time. It's new. It'll drive you crazy and you'll love the entire ride until you crash and burn. Or you won't....crash and burn. You have to take the ride to find out. That's what "new" is...

It's Never a Good Thing...

...to start obsessing.
...to start second-guessing.
...to overreact.
...to feel insecure when there's no reason to feel that way.
...to question when no question is necessary.
...to distrust, when trust wasn't breached to begin with.
...to worry, when worrying will only get you more worried.
...to doubt when there's no reason for doubt.

All of those things only cloud the issue. The real issue, the truth, the reality of the situation.

It's never a good thing...to do anything I listed above.

My Dream Plan for Today

It's raining.

I'm pmsing.

= bad mood.

My cure:

Go home.

Take a nap.

Get up and drink.

A lot.

Sounds good right? I figure it's Thursday, so we're close enough to Friday for it to be okay to drink. It's raining so what better way to spend your day than lazing around watching tv with a glass of wine in your hand. Or two. Or three. Or, what the hell, a bottle. Or two...

It would also be a good day to cook. Grab a recipe out of your favorite cookbook, buy the food, and make a great meal.

Eating and Drinking.

That's my plan.

If you don't like it...

Tough.

It's Raining

There are certain advantages to rain. I mean, like the next person, I feel like rain can be annoying and inconvenient. But there are those times when rain is exactly what you need. A quiet morning lazily spent in bed because you've slept later than normal because it's dark out. The pitter-patter of rain falling on the roof while you're in your pajamas, under a blanket on the couch. The tv is on low, there's a book on the coffee table, and you're ready to fall asleep again even though you just got up. You don't feel guilty for being lazy and you don't feel like you have to do anything but sit, lay down, and relax.

It's those times when rain is more comfort than annoyance that makes you sit back and enjoy the moment. Most of us move too fast to take all of it in, but on those days when it's raining and you don't want to go out and you're not doing chores around the house, when you can really just enjoy life. You can enjoy the person your with, be it a lover, husband, wife, child or friend. You talk to them. You have conversations that last longer than "How was your day? What do you want for dinner?" Those standard questions that we ask everyday because it's part of our routine. There's nothing wrong with them, but the rainy day gives you a chance to make love in the middle of the day, to play board games with your kids, or watch movies with your friends. To laugh, and eat and sleep. To be homey.

There are advantages to rain.

Liz Bauer's Artist Statement - Written by me

An artist’s passion can become animalistic in its very nature. The feeling is basic, it’s aggressive, it’s a fight for life and the need to survive.

To create art is what breathes life into the artist. Art is a necessity and passion is the blinding force behind it.

For Liz Bauer art is life. It is her air, her haven, her joy and her sorrow. Art is her everything. Looking at her work you can see the love and attention it gets. You can feel its weight. What its mood is. You’ll know what it’s about because it will resonate with you.

It’s complexity wrapped in innocence. At first glance childlike, at second interesting, at third – powerful. It’s straightforward and intricate in detail. It tells a story about her life: her growth as a person and her struggle to find herself. Liz’s art is not an object. It’s a living force emanating from her soul, through her hands and onto paper.

Her use of words or short statements along with her characters adds to the meaning behind her paintings. Some are serious, some are funny, and all are great.

Check out her work at Hyperactive Productions

A Tale of Two Men in Two Cities

Once upon a time, in a small town outside of a big city, there was a wedding. The bride was gorgeous in white and the groom gallant in black. Theirs was a big wedding. All their friends and family were invited, and as these two were popular, the party was huge. As weddings go, most of the attendees were couples. There was dancing, laughing, singing and crying. And at this most auspicious occasion, there was one particular couple that was special. They weren't actually together, although you'd never know. They had only just recently begun to know each other. But they had a connection that was visible, not only to the eye, but to the hearts and minds of the people around them. They talked and danced and kissed. They shared and learned and touched. It wasn't "She" and "He" but "they". It wasn't "you" and "I" but "we". It was holding hands, sharing looks. It was sneaking away to be alone together. It was their friends' wedding, but it was only the two of them. It was a banquet hall filled with people, but it was their own exclusive little world. The night passed quickly but an unimaginable shift had occurred. Neither knew it would happen, which made it that much more special. But when the night ended they thought it was over. You see, she didn't live near him. Or him near her. They only saw each other one more time. It was as special, as intimate as the last time, but when the night ended it was over.

Once upon the same time, there was a bbq. They saw each other immediately. There was an instant connection. They talked, they laughed and they were husband and wife. You see, they both had the same last name. They came from different parts of the world so there was nothing stopping them. They flirted, held hands, shared looks and kissed. It was different for her, this connection. Intense and fast, but different. Should they be the same she wondered. No, they shouldn't be. They want each other, they like each other, they live near each other.

This connection is different.

Different can be good.

Good can turn into great.

And great can be forever.

Until we meet again...

How Can You Not Smile

"Thanks for thinking of me...You made my day! If a simple text message made my day, imagine what it will do to me when i get to see you again."

The Morning Commute

I take my morning commute seriously. It's a routine that gets me ready for the day. It's also where I allow myself to daydream. I put my iPod on, and what playlist I decide to listen to usually determines the type of daydream I have. But back to that in a second.

For this entire week, I've been completely thrown off during my morning commute. I've had to talk to people. Which, before 9 a.m., isn't okay with me. A "friend" got on the bus at another stop two days in a row and insisted on sitting next to me, forcing me to take off my iPod and abandon my little world of daydreams. Then my roommate came with me one morning because she wanted to get used to the commute. And today, this one I'm okay with, the boy called. So, as you can see, it hasn't been a normal commuting week for me. Boy am I glad that this week is over.

So back to the normal morning commute. I usually listen to my iPod loud enough to drown everything and everyone else out. I pick out a seat on the bus next to the window and stare out not really seeing anything. I just think about stuff. I guess this is what my mom does when she goes on her walks. She's always like "I come up with all of these ideas for you or places I think you should go when I'm walking." And I always laughed at her. But I do that on the bus.

It's the perfect time for it. I don't have to pay attention to anything. I can just sit there and think about my life, or a boy, or what the song I'm listening to means to me. I usually come up with some pretty good stuff. Including where I'd like to be in life as opposed to where I am. They're never one in the same. But hopefully one day they will be. But, back to the point, my morning commute is like my alone time. It's necessary for me. I need that little bit of time everyday just to myself. So when it gets interrupted I get pissed.