tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33798376149460556472023-06-15T03:00:45.481-07:00L's JourneyL'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-47400320899217926562013-02-22T11:19:00.001-08:002013-02-22T11:19:46.307-08:00Finding The Blessing In It....<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm trying. I really am. Sometimes, I just can't help but pray that she's smiling at me, glad that I finally <i>FEEL </i>happy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We're exactly 7 days away from her being gone 4 months. I've finally hit the point where I pick up the phone to call her, only to quickly realize that I can't. About a month ago, I had a dream that I was flying through the sky over the desert of southern Utah, where she wants her ashes spread. This dream should have made me happy. Should have made me feel close to her. But ever since, I can't seem to get the images of my sick, skin-n-bones mom laying in hospital bed. And this is where I get angry. I feel like I should have done more for her. I should have been able to make her better. I.... have a lot of guilt for the parts I played in her getting sick.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I moved back home, away from my family, my stability, I promised that I was going to make her proud. Slowly and very deliberately, I am doing that. There's a huge level of peace knowing that even though I can't talk to her, I can still "talk" to her. I beg her for help at work. I talk to her about my own, at times, frustrating relationship with my daughter, looking for guidance. I tell her I'm glad she gets to spend time with her family and dogs that she loved so much. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've always believed that your loved ones are still with you after they're gone. At times over the last couple months, that belief has been tested. But.... in the end, I have an amazing family. We've had a trials over the years, lots of them, but we came together. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I miss my mom every minute of every day. I do not take the time I got to spend with her those last few months for granted. That time brought our family back together. And, even though she's not physically with us anymore, she.... is still the glue that holds us together.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm gonna face the challenges of life and kill this shit for her. </div>
L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-75272113071048240102013-01-10T10:01:00.001-08:002013-01-10T10:01:27.659-08:00Neglecting, Nurturing and ClimbingMy Oh My!!!<br />
<br />
I literally just realized that it has been 10 months TODAY since I've written. Well, I've written, but not here. That's crazy. Not just crazy, neglectful.<br />
<br />
Our last encounter was about creation, in any form. And, while I've been neglectful regarding my writing, I was still creating. I was creating my life. Reforming essentially. I've always been a big believer in the beauty of progression. I am not the same person I was 10 years ago, let alone a year ago.<br />
<br />
The last ten months have been a roller coaster. I've done some amazing things. I've become more grateful. I made the decision to move "home", change jobs, I lost my mother, I became more of grown up. When I think of all the things that have happened recently, I have to be honest and say.... I don't think I was necessarily neglectful to my creative side.... I need to take pride.... I need to admit that I was nurturing my creative side. I allowed myself some room for growth.<br />
<br />
The only thing left to do.... Keep climbing the beanstalk!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-13912733173134900582012-04-10T07:10:00.001-07:002012-04-10T07:10:36.551-07:00Letting Me Be...As all of you know, I've spent a good majority of my life searching. While I've enjoyed the journey, I need to anchor my feet and be honest with myself. I've always denied parts of myself for a certain level of acceptability. I needed people to understand me, but that is never what I received.<br />
<br />
Over the course of the last couple years, I've realized that my happiest moments are when I've spent time writing or painting or cooking. Creating something. Essentially what I've learned is that... what I do, what I create, whether it's paper or canvas or food, is Me allowing my soul to come out and breath from all the nonsense of my life.<br />
<br />
Being creative isn't easy. But the difficulty of it feels amazing. There is beauty in the struggle. It doesn't matter what you envisioned, the point is that you're able to bare your insides to something. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZcG9BZn82k/T4Q_No7j9VI/AAAAAAAAAHo/7vuqjFdcOhc/s1600/create.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZcG9BZn82k/T4Q_No7j9VI/AAAAAAAAAHo/7vuqjFdcOhc/s1600/create.jpg" /></a></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-36825535241443368762012-04-06T16:24:00.002-07:002012-04-06T16:24:27.455-07:00What She Said....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I_iqpT8hP7c/T397Fv4-_LI/AAAAAAAAAHg/wD5DqmoSjVU/s1600/carrie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I_iqpT8hP7c/T397Fv4-_LI/AAAAAAAAAHg/wD5DqmoSjVU/s320/carrie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-82335700906098631022012-03-11T17:00:00.001-07:002012-03-11T17:00:42.735-07:00The Stuggle....To those of you that are brave enough to read my posts, I thank you.<br />
<br />
It's no secret that my life is a series of roller coasters. I'm hot, then cold. Up and then down. When I fall, I fall hard. The older I get, the more it hurts because I know better. This is my life, you'd think I'd be use to it by now. That I'd be better at handling the lows.<br />
<br />
Everytime I get to a point where I feel comfortable with me, not just comfortable but a point where I feel true love for myself, I fall. There's always a little tick in my brain that says it's too good. I'm a self-sabotager. I'm cool with admitting it. <br />
<br />
There's so many things about Me that I should be proud of, and for the most part I am. But right now in this moment... The tick is taking over.<br />
<br />
On a brighter note....<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is my 365 day mark. I have not had any alcohol for a year. Definitely something to be proud about. It's been a struggle. There have been times where I've thought that I could have just one but I know better.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wsw-V2XqFbw/T108m7MEVGI/AAAAAAAAAHU/39K57oDAxoQ/s1600/mlk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wsw-V2XqFbw/T108m7MEVGI/AAAAAAAAAHU/39K57oDAxoQ/s320/mlk.jpg" width="286" /></a></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-82528843426208604532012-02-29T19:57:00.001-08:002012-02-29T19:57:54.252-08:00Be. Strong.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Have courage. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">You WILL get through a bad day or a bad year. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">I promise.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> "There are times in life when you could get tossed in the well too with twists in your stomach and with holes in your hearts." ~ Neil Pasricha</span></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-34316987265957781842012-02-22T16:56:00.000-08:002012-02-22T16:56:18.080-08:00Happily (And Truthfully) Me....<div align="center">
Ahhh... The beauty of the AHA! moments.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
I've spent the entire day being perfectly right brained. I realized some things about myself this morning in the middle of Pilates, yes- right smack dab in the middle of a Pilates class. When it's written out it sounds OH SO GOOD.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
I am creative.</div>
<div align="center">
A free spirit.</div>
<div align="center">
I am passion.</div>
<div align="center">
Yearning.</div>
<div align="center">
Sensuality.</div>
<div align="center">
I AM THE SOUND OF ROARING LAUGHTER.</div>
<div align="center">
I am taste.</div>
<div align="center">
The feeling of sand beneath bare feet.</div>
<div align="center">
I am movement.</div>
<div align="center">
Vivid colors.</div>
<div align="center">
I am the urge to paint on empty canvas.</div>
<div align="center">
I am boundless imagination.</div>
<div align="center">
Art.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
I sense. I feel. </div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
I AM EVERYTHING I WANTED TO BE.</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-62391405629898616632012-02-13T20:29:00.001-08:002012-02-13T20:29:36.204-08:00What I Learned Today....<div align="center">
One day your life will flash in front of your eyes. </div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
Make sure it's WORTH watching.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-266269826412353832012-02-12T13:53:00.000-08:002012-02-12T14:22:14.422-08:00And....Smack!I've been sitting on the couch for the last couple hours contemplating friends, writing, taxes and other nonsense. I found myself getting really restless. And then... I looked up at my mantle and I was reminded to just calm down.<br />
<br />
I did.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ykLQQZsljw4/Tzg0sZ2rN6I/AAAAAAAAAF4/IfDo0lQnbMY/s1600/02122012342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ykLQQZsljw4/Tzg0sZ2rN6I/AAAAAAAAAF4/IfDo0lQnbMY/s320/02122012342.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-46748243534166510622012-02-10T21:27:00.000-08:002012-02-10T21:27:46.377-08:00Get Connected... With You.I am whole. I am perfectly Me. I'm flawed. And even unhappy sometimes. I've learned to work through it. Instead of running away (one of my favorite past-times), I've learned... To Freaking Work Through It.<br />
<br />
As of late, there's been a terrible disconnect. I know who I am, what I like, where I see myself going. Wait... Scratch that. I know who I am. I know what I like. What I don't know is where I'm going. HUGE HUGE HUGE disconnect.<br />
<br />
I want to put my Nike's on and run along a new path but I can't. My prior notions that getting to a new physical place or attaching myself to new people would make Me better are quite literally, what got me here. <br />
<br />
I am whole. I am perfectly Me. I... am flawed.<br />
<br />
I have so many things that I want to accomplish that I get stuck in the disconnect of actually accomplishing. Here's the point where most people would say "I need to figure out where this is coming from," but not me. I already know.<br />
<br />
There's two parts to my lack of accomplishment.<br />
<br />
The first is that I grew up with a sister that was always doing great things. When she would do something marvelous, my parents would push me to do the same. I would respond with the typical "I'm not her" sentence. The fact of the matter is, she had to work her ass off. The two of us took a couple college classes together our first semester. One of them being fantastic college level algebra. I got 100%, she got 98%. She was furious. My mom later told me that she studied for days. I didn't. Hence, her frustration. My sister worked so hard to prove to people that she was great. I was use to a life of disappointing people, mostly myself so I didn't study. I had the assumption that I wouldn't do that good, so I didn't even try.<br />
<br />
The second part is Me and my insecurity of feeling good enough. My sister was the smart one. I was the pretty one. This was instilled in me. This is what I was made to believe made me who I am. I believed it so much that I wanted to be a model. I went, with my mom, to meet with a modeling agency. They put me through a class and at the end of it, we had to participate in a fashion show. This show was completed by the agency giving out awards and a trip to New York to meet with agents there. I wasn't picked. Walking out to the car, I cried. Hysterically. Everything that I'd been told my entire life about my looks was left on that runway. I felt horrible. I was young and vulnerable and I let that experience rip me to shreds. <br />
<br />
After that experience as a young girl, I essentially gave up. I quit striving for things. I believed in what I was being told by my parents. I quit trying to be good for them, and worse for myself. I didn't want to be the pretty one anymore. And I damn sure didn't want to be smart like my sister. I mean... It would be too damn easy to learn the concept of self satisfaction. It's much easier to sit back and just let life happen.<br />
<br />
It's taken a huge part of my life to learn one very important thing. While it's easier to sit back, it's not that fun. Life is a roller coaster. You might have butterflies in your belly, but you have to get on, click the seat belt in and throw your arms in the air. The ups and downs make you stronger. They make you wiser. <br />
<br />
I am whole. I am perfectly Me. I'm flawed. And even unhappy sometimes.<br />
<br />
I know who I am. I know what I like.<br />
<br />
I know... I will do great things. However and wherever that may be.<br />
<br />
<br />L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-18544716252599750942011-12-09T05:03:00.001-08:002011-12-09T05:29:10.965-08:00Take A Different Path... It's Cool- Don't Worry.5 am... Usually I'd be frustrated but, coffee was already made thanks to the roomie, the pup is under the covers laying across my feet keeping them warm and best of all, it's quiet.<br />
<br />
It's that time of year where I start reflecting on the last year. What decisions I made, what I did and didn't do, who was effected, etc. I have to say... I'm happy.<br />
<br />
L's Journey was... well, if I'm being truthful, a way of dredging up the past. Recently, I've been less involved with it than other projects because everytime I thought of something, I would immediately think that I didn't want to put myself through it. Everyone knows the sayings- the quotes are all over the internet, you can't move forward if you're still living in the past. And... I was. It's time to move on. It's time to accept that my life has been the way its been for a reason. I accept the people in my life for who they are- not what they've done. I accept that everyone has a past- so do I. I accept the dynamics of my family- even though its hard. I accept the job I have- not everyone is lucky enough to be employed. I accept Me. I'm not perfect but I've had some pretty perfect moments.<br />
<br />
It's taken me a loooonnnnnnnggggg time to get to this place. Contentment. I don't have much but what I do have is quality. For now on, that is what I'll be focusing on. <br />
<br />
But... if you're ever in the mood (which you should be all the time) head over to <a href="http://sexxdiet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Sex Diet</a> to see what raucous is ensuing!<br />
<br />L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-87913013311382969982011-11-07T21:31:00.000-08:002011-11-07T21:31:55.920-08:00The Cup... Is Attempting Spillage...I've purposely taken some time from writing this blog and the others too, for that matter. I needed to take some time to redefine what I believe my purpose to be, in writing and all aspects of Me. Essentially, I needed to re-learn the skills to be grateful. To have a cup that spillith over with gratitude.<br />
<br />
The absence of writing in my life gave me a slap in the face. At the most random times I will get hit with things that I feel like I need to write down. But.... I forced myself not to during the last little while. I don't know if I really had a good reason. Maybe I felt like if writing was an actual skill of mine, I'd remember those things and write about them when I was ready. Not a good reason, I know. However, I was able to come to a conclusion... <br />
<br />
<div align="center">
My writing is for me. Not for anyone else. However, I do love that people enjoy it. I have not and will not censor or fake my writing. It is what it is.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While I don't always have the utmost confidence in what comes out, I will own up to it. It makes me happy. It's always there when I need it. It's a reflection in the truest form.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AND.... Speaking of reflections... Head on over to <a href="http://sexxdiet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Sex Diet</a> to read the latest on what happens to a person when they don't feed wants/needs correctly...</div>
<br />L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-72810641841969403652011-10-11T16:15:00.000-07:002011-10-11T16:15:43.157-07:00Oh Sweet Body Of Mine<div align="center">
I went to the gym twice today. Neither time did I get out of the car. Why? Because, there were people there. I pulled into the parking lot, observed the amount of cars there and said to myself "I'll come back when nobody is here."</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
Oh Sweet Body Of Mine... It doesn't like to be around strangers or should I say... It doesn't like to worry about what other people are thinking. </div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
Hey! At least I tried to go back.</div>
L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-23079343230682146472011-10-05T08:22:00.000-07:002011-10-05T08:22:22.816-07:00I wonder....<div style="text-align: center;">
Forty years ago today, my best friend was born. She's is an amazing woman. She has suffered so much in her life. Yet, she is able to wake up everyday with a smile on her face. She has inspired me to be less judgmental, to value my circumstance more and to be more confident.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I wonder... Does she know how amazing she is? Hopefully, she does.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pobTb-5TC5Q/Tox1O6mhh5I/AAAAAAAAAEo/6wwVBBnDLvo/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pobTb-5TC5Q/Tox1O6mhh5I/AAAAAAAAAEo/6wwVBBnDLvo/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-45949191443841286062011-09-29T18:25:00.000-07:002011-09-29T18:25:08.777-07:00I do... I Really Do... Like Me, That Is.<div align="center">
Finally! It isn't a lie. I feel it. I really really do!</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
I have to first shout out to Heather @ <a href="http://lifeofapasseri.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-like-me_21.html">lifeofapasserie</a> for challenging everyone to just do it. While it has taken quite a bit of time for me to come up with this list, she inspired me to get it done. Amazingly, I really really really BELIEVE everything on this list. Such a content feeling, THANK YOU Heather!</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HWBrB555GfA/ToUXgcWtfgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/WDanaLJEwOI/s1600/ilikeme200X200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HWBrB555GfA/ToUXgcWtfgI/AAAAAAAAAEg/WDanaLJEwOI/s1600/ilikeme200X200.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><div align="center">
My tattoo's... Because I remember the experience of getting each and every one of them.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My hair... Because I can change it easily and it always grows back!</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My brown eyes... </div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My vanity... I'm not vain but as I've gotten older I've started the realize the importance of feeling pretty for Me.</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
I always have toenails painted...</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My coffee addiction... </div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My funniness... I am AMAZINGLY funny</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My love of feeding people...</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My love of expressing feelings...</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
My love of "feeling" feelings...</div>
</li>
<li><div align="center">
MY ABILITY TO FINALLY BE CONTENT WITH ME!</div>
</li>
</ul>
<div align="center">
Now... I need to figure out how to keep adding to this list.</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
Happy listing ya'll... </div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bbSMWcVQIpQ/ToUaaZqgk6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/lxOB63fTB24/s1600/308059_10150327713294239_141439374238_7806067_103965340_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bbSMWcVQIpQ/ToUaaZqgk6I/AAAAAAAAAEk/lxOB63fTB24/s1600/308059_10150327713294239_141439374238_7806067_103965340_n.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-15453747278436643722011-09-14T19:04:00.000-07:002011-09-14T19:05:10.162-07:00Like Sand Through The Hourglass... These Are The Days Of My Life<div align="center">I haven't been very involved in this blog lately. Which, if you think about the title and the reason that I started it in the first place, could only mean one thing... I haven't been very involved with my journey lately.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I've struggled with the direction that I'm going. Not in life, well, that's not true at all. Daily life is fine. I'm getting through tasks, surviving. But at the end of the day... I'm not feeling like I've had any real accomplishments. Going through life in uncertainty doesn't make it easy to have genuine smiles. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Now before I continue, I need to remind you what a pessimist I am! Affirmations are silly, I've always felt that way. But, over the last few days I've been trying to use affirmations as a way of getting through the day. I'll laugh at myself and continue on with whatever task I'm working on. I began to think that I need to write something upbeat and positive... A sort of SMACK IN DA FACE!</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Today, a blogging friend, Heather @ lifeofapasserie posted exactly what I needed. She is a self described natural beauty, and she writes beautifully too! She so poignantly reminds everyone to simply... Like who you are. Please read her <a href="http://lifeofapasseri.blogspot.com/p/i-like-me.html">post</a> and <a href="http://lifeofapasseri.blogspot.com/p/i-like-me.html">link</a> to her list. Commit to being committed to You.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">You wear your skin... Own It... Love It.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-391142864333813152011-09-03T17:10:00.000-07:002011-09-03T17:10:16.566-07:00Finding Beauty In The Past...<div style="text-align: center;">
“<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sometimes we have to go right into the fire in order to find our true healing.” ~Jack Kornfield</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;">Hence... The new tattoo. I'm up to ten. That's right, One-Zero. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-small;">I have a list of things that I'd like to get but I wanted this one to really mean something. Which is why its taken so long for me to get it. I've been working on making Me better for a while now and I wanted to celebrate that. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of my all time favorite things is The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac. It's short, sweet and reminds me of Me. In the midst of all the chaos in my life, I continued to grow, and I did it without a major support system</span>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px;">Did you hear about the rose that grew<br />from a crack in the concrete? <br />Proving nature's law is wrong it <br />learned to walk with out having feet. <br />Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams, <br />it learned to breathe fresh air. <br />Long live the rose that grew from concrete<br />when no one else ever cared.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So... Here it is. My constant reminder to always walk with my head high.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLH2LZ0qnBE/TmLBy5NIrvI/AAAAAAAAAEc/G_xxduRnLq8/s1600/Photo0232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLH2LZ0qnBE/TmLBy5NIrvI/AAAAAAAAAEc/G_xxduRnLq8/s320/Photo0232.jpg" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-31603790772373551462011-08-30T17:54:00.000-07:002011-08-30T17:54:58.417-07:00Under Da Gun... Again!<div align="center">Yours Truly is going under the gun again. Can you hear it? ZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzZzzzzzzz! (Have you guessed yet that its a tattoo gun?)</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE IT! </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Here's the conundrum:</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I know what I'm getting essentially but I need a simple bird design to go along with it. And of course, I can't draw to save my life. How is it possible for someone to paint but not draw? Anyhoo, that's neither here nor there.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I've got a couple days to figure it out... 3 days and counting.</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-51853102894680185672011-07-26T15:58:00.000-07:002011-07-26T15:58:36.654-07:00<div align="center">Blah... Blah... Blah...</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">In the last 11 hours I have started not 1, not 2 but 14 different posts. I ramble. About stupid stuff at that. I walked away from each post feeling defeated and illiterate. Now, I'm just ambitious. Ambitious for something new. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I need to take this writing somewhere. I need to do something else with it. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">If anyone has any ideas, PLEASE!!! I beg of you... let me know.</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-65171114774710453682011-07-03T18:11:00.000-07:002011-07-03T18:11:44.696-07:00Is Back... And Counting What She's Worth...<div align="center">I've been on a long and curvy road. I've likened myself to a small sports car. You know the ones... they're good at hugging curves. Hugging curves is good as long as you're driving an actual sports car and going through those curves at 90 mph. In my brain, it isn't good. I don't want to hug curves. While I want to feel feelings, I don't want to get stuck trying to navigate the curves. The curves are slowing me down, both physically and mentally.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">The last few weeks have taken a huge toll on me. I can't tell you how many times I said "F You" and "You Suck" to myself over the last 3 weeks. A week ago I found this awesome site, <a href="http://www.tinybuddha.com/">www.tinybuddha.com</a>. In perusing the quote section I came across something that made my heart go pitter patter...</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>"As long as you make an identity for yourself out of pain, you cannot be free of it." -Eckhart Tolle</strong></span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I've spent my entire life identifying with pain, either because I was hurt or because someone else's pain was being projected onto me. Hurt was all I ever knew. I internalized everything. Whether it was my mess or someone else's. Granted, I didn't make the best choices growing up. A lot of the things that I've endured over the majority of my life were things that I could have prevented. But instead of saying to myself that I was just a kid, I let it be exaggerated. Kids of all ages make mistakes. I need to keep that in perspective. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">All that said... I found my "creative" side once again. I made a decision a week ago to be more "zen-like"... so, I painted. Buddha.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WstwdMlvIso/ThEOx2UXR5I/AAAAAAAAAEY/xdwGAVZvsa8/s1600/047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WstwdMlvIso/ThEOx2UXR5I/AAAAAAAAAEY/xdwGAVZvsa8/s320/047.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I have a TONNNNNNNNN of things that are going to be added to this. I just have to get my lazy behind in gear. But before I do, I have something I need to do. Write myself a letter. You know the funny question of "What do you wish you could have told yourself 10 years ago?" Well, I'm gonna write that letter, seal it up and hold onto it. It might 10 years, it might be 50 years before I open it up but I'll open it one day. Hopefully, when I do read it I'll appreciate the struggle I've gone through even more. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>"We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves." -Dalai Lama</strong></span></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-22223619691967888732011-06-23T14:59:00.000-07:002011-06-23T14:59:56.391-07:00Liar Liar Pants On Fire...<div align="center">I don't hide well. Although, I'm really good at "running." </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I've spent the last 7 months feeling like I've done such a good job "finding me." A couple months ago, I had a craft moment. I got in the car and when to Office Depot for... "Hello, My Name Is" stickers. I wanted to give myself a confidence boost. But what I essentially did was lie to myself. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UHSqilJaYp4/TgO0GhKSEPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/JtnFoXHQE1o/s1600/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UHSqilJaYp4/TgO0GhKSEPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/JtnFoXHQE1o/s320/031.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I took this picture as soon as I finished and then.... put the project on the floor in the corner of the bedroom. Immediately I knew I wasn't being truthful. I don't really feel any of those words. I want to feel them. I want to be that girl I wrote in words in that picture frame. I mean... that's 36 lies. Those little stickers are my reminder that I am not a very nice person. Not to myself and not to others. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hello, my name is... Tells Tall Tales.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I genuninely care about the people in my life. So much so, I never had the opportunity to get to know me. When someone calls me selfish, I have nothing to say other than "Yes, I am." I had to get selfish to get out of situations. But, what I didn't do is stop using that situation as an excuse. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I...I...I, honestly don't know. I don't know who I am, what I'm about, what I stand for or what I'm willing or not willing to accept for my life. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I suck... I suck... I suck.</div><div align="center"></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-65718503640457987892011-06-15T18:20:00.000-07:002011-06-15T18:20:23.870-07:00The Countdown Begins...<div align="center">T-Minus 4 days...</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">This time every year sucks, for lack of a better word. I get super emotional and start acting like...wait for it... A Girl! Why you may be asking. Because, it's time for yet another birthday. I don't like my birthday. Every year I say I'm not gonna celebrate, that it's not important. To be completely honest, I'm not sure why I hate my birthday. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Maybe it's because of the surprise party my parents planned for my 8th birthday. Or maybe it was my 10th. I don't know and frankly it doesn't matter what birthday it was. I was completely caught off guard and I spent most of the party wondering why my parents thought to invite most of the girls. They didn't like me AT ALL! Why were they even there?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Or maybe it's because I spent most of my life "acting" older than I was. In my brain I grew up fast. Everyone I associate is older than me. When people ask me how old I am and I tell them they just look at me funny. No one believes me. In my short life I've had a lot of experiences, good and bad. I guess it just seems completely amazing to me that my life has experienced all that it has. Sometimes I feel like I am an 80 year old person telling stories of my life... But, I'm not 80. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Two days ago I had the opportunity of getting into a discussion with a stranger. She was telling me that she is buying herself some new clothes for her birthday. My response was "Happy Birthday" and then she said that her birthday isn't until Sunday. I paused and then replied "WE HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY!" Apparently, the universe really wanted me to talk to her. She was telling me that she is going to be 71 and that she absolutely enjoys getting older, that she would never want to be my age again. We chatted for a minute about what it means to be that age and actually enjoy life. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">I went into counting down to my birthday with the same frustration that I do every year. Celebrations are draining, it. But given the fact that I have experiences what I have and I'm still here and kickin', I'm gonna go ahead and give it the ol' college try. I've agreed to a birthday celebration... I'm gonna put a smile on my face. I'm gonna be happy about it. I'm gonna... look forward to another year.</div><div align="center"></div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-39710578576084946732011-05-31T16:13:00.000-07:002011-05-31T16:13:18.325-07:00M.I.A...<div align="center">I don't have a good reason. For being uninvolved with my creative side, that is. I don't even know if I know why. I can't count how many times I started to sit down to write and then just stared hopelessly at the screen. The feeling of utter frustration takes over and I walk away.<br />
<br />
When I originally started writing I had a specific purpose, to figure out why I don't remember much of my childhood. I wanted to know why, what happened in my life that lead me to believe that memories weren't important. The blog has turned into a lot more than that. It's been my place to vent, be funny, cry, spread happiness and more than anything, communicate. I wanted to write everyday. HAHAHA!!!! I wanted it to go a specific way and of course it didn't. I wanted.... to find serenity with the choas of my life. <br />
<br />
I don't think I've done a very good job holding myself accountable. While I don't think that I set my expections too high, I do believe that I probably should have forced myself to write, even on the offest of days. If you know me, you know that my follow through sucks- BIG TIME. My entire life has been a series of things that I get so so so excited to start and then at whatever point, I just stop. Sometimes there's a reason, sometimes not. I know this about myself. I spent a good majority of my life being criticized by people for not following through. <br />
<br />
So... here we are. Me in all of my "I Suck" glory saying... I'll do better. I have to do better. </div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-48547450532491874822011-04-26T15:22:00.000-07:002011-04-26T15:22:04.709-07:00Just Do It...<div align="center">Just call me... Tweedle Dee OR Tweedle Dumb, whichever you prefer.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">It seems like I can't remember anything these days. I have a huge list of things I want to get done, be it cleaning or some kind of house project BUT... I can't keep my wits long enough to finish anything..</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">However, today... I finished something. The funny thing is, it wasn't even on my list. The project just popped into my brain and I sat down and did it. I'm feeling so accomplished right now... </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"> I really wanted to start my 13 week challenge this week, but my forgetfullness is really getting in the way. I will be reporting shortly on my progress with that</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Until Next Time...</div>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379837614946055647.post-79189855448473478382011-04-23T16:32:00.001-07:002011-04-23T16:32:12.763-07:00<a href="<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/2531767/ls-journey?claim=bpdxuun8f2x">Follow">http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/2531767/ls-journey?claim=bpdxuun8f2x">Follow</a> my blog with bloglovin</a>L'sJourneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15987593028081091959noreply@blogger.com0