MICAH! or here. I absolutely love how it curves, and I’m sure that you can do it with your phrase.

I definitely like it on your shoulder tho. No qualms with people seeing it in the summer?

smuttynakedness:

(via deathofadesigner)

It was a big day. 

I went from this:

to this (or some attempt at this):

And that’s really all I have to report. 

Watch the episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia called the “D.E.N.N.I.S. System.” 75% of guys are either like Dennis, Mack or Frank (all assholes) and, the other 20% are well meaning guys, but certifiably dumb like Ben, Dee’s boyfriend of the episode. Women end up like Dee (I’m proving my independence!!”) once they’re aware of the system-paranoid, or like Kayleigh, and disgusted for another two or so years. 

That leaves 5%. These are men who seek a genuine attraction and companionship, and that dirty word, love. Someone that makes a good teammate and a best friend. Those men are what girls hope to get end up with. - But then, under that banner of “Nice Guy,” we require similar interests, common life goals, religion and moral beliefs, children, pets and locations and the same sense of humor. 

These odds and the next 7 years or so of sifting through men makes me want to be a lesbian. 

bees-knees:

“The Washington Post quoted Linda Adams, a Beck supporter from Colorado, who said, ‘We want our country to get back to its original roots,’ adding that ‘her ancestors were on the Mayflower and fought in the American Revolution.’ She was also upset that some schools no longer require students to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Well, the U.S. population is simply not going to be replenished by Puritan pilgrims from England, and the original Pledge of Allegiance was fine with most people as a statement of national unity, until its ‘original intent’ was compromised by a late insertion of the words ‘under God’ in the McCarthyite 1950s. But one still sees what she means and can feel sympathy with the pulse of nostalgia.

…

What does it take to believe that Christianity is an endangered religion in America or that the name of Jesus is insufficiently spoken or appreciated? Who wakes up believing that there is no appreciation for our veterans and our armed forces and that without a noisy speech from Sarah Palin, their sacrifice would be scorned? It’s not unfair to say that such grievances are purely and simply imaginary, which in turn leads one to ask what the real ones can be. The clue, surely, is furnished by the remainder of the speeches, which deny racial feeling so monotonously and vehemently as to draw attention.”

Barenaked Ladies, This is Where It Ends

A lot happened this weekend, and I’m so tired. So I’m going to do one of those list things I’ve been doing - half thoughts and ends of conversations and passing ideas. 

A phrase about faith was particularly insightful. Another nod to Keillor, and I need to compile a list of these run-ons that assure me that my actions are normal and nothing to become tense over. Oh, and he’s particularly insightful to the idea of our self-awareness. And how crippled we become once we we are. 

I need to go ahead and write it down. Let it go and get it out. 

Me at 5:05 pm on a Sunday: dragging out the third cage into the hot sun with dogs barking and panting and jumping all around me. I turn on the water to hose it down and expect relief as these dogs cower in a dry corner. Enter Mr. B, the boston terrier. “SPRINKLER!!!” And this hour of Mr. B and I playing in the hose water completely restores my joy in this job. 

Spending the night out on a friends boat, talking and watching the fog swirl over the lake. The moon was so bright! And while I stared at the scenery, I remembered why I love that I’ve grown up in West Virginia.

Mumford and Sons made me so happy today. Also, the BnL song above is completely relevant to my summer. Man, I miss them…

I apologize for my poor grammar and hodgepodge tenses and weird word order. Like I said, I’m so tired. 

libraryland:

oldbookillustrations:

East o’ the sun and west o’ the moon.

Illustration by John D. Batten to The master-maid. From Europa’s fairy book, restored and retold by Joseph Jacobs, London and New York, 1916.
Via archive.org.

I just spent a good 90 seconds trying to jam my work key it into my home’s deadbolt before I realized I had the wrong one. That’s an unfortunate Freudian slip. 

Kings of Convenience, Winning a Battle, Losing the War

It’s been a very long day that seems very short in hindsight. 

Ever had to stare at a man who is carrying the weight of his world? To have a conversation with someone who is struggling with the idea that sometime in the next year he may lay down his life and die? All he wanted to do was pay for college. I made him dinner tonight and we talked about dogs and other silly things. Such stupid things. I tried to prompt him to talk a little. I wonder if he thinks that he may not be coming home next September. I wonder what it’s like to face your mortality. Does he give his things away? What about his dog? I’m so scared for him. We took a ride once the dishes were clean. Over the Ohio bridge I leaned against him, stood up and stretched my arms out to the stars and he laughed and then I got nervous and sat back down fast and held him tight. And, my god, if I was good for anything in his life, I hope he knew that he made me feel alive. 

And life is like that, right? No tragic life-altering moments. Just tiny decisions. Tiny increments of time where we were lazy or mean or dumb and then they all come and face you at once. You get orders to show up for your consequences and it hits you that you and your life will never be the same. All he wanted to do was pay for college. 

I haven’t heard my own music selection in awhile. I’ve missed my iPod. I’ve had a Kings of Convenience song in my head every day for a couple of weeks. Today, it’s this one. No real reason. No hidden message in the lyrics. Just a simple, subtly complicated rhythm with words that contradict themselves and explain your life in a moment of anxiety or fear or a rush of understanding. I’m thankful that one of my boys never really took to this band. That its been mine since the beginning, and these songs are for my mind alone to toss around. To let an elegant guitar, a waif of a melody drift pass me singing “the day breaks and every thing is new…”

This morning I woke up earlier than usual. I wasn’t tired. I left early smiling as I told my dogs goodbye. At 7:24 am there was a thick fog on rt60. At 7:28 on my way past the family grocery store and the corporate bank, the sun broke over the ridge and his light consumed a patch of Milton. It swirled with the fog and blinded all those it swallowed. I thought “this is what it must have been like when Moses saw God’s robes.” Because, just faintly, and if you didn’t stare too long, you could certainly see the outline of our friendly star. This morning I felt as if I had ascended into heaven.