I think I've found my calling.

Greeting card writer.

What do you think?

I could TOTALLY write all that cheesy, mushy, lovey dovey sentimental stuff other people can't seem to put into words.

I'm gonna try it. Acutally, I've already started. I just need to submit what I've written.

Who knows...maybe this is it. Maybe you'll all be reading MY words on those cards you give to people when their cat dies. It'll be my claim to fame. :)

....

The girl my little brother took to his high school prom is now engaged.

Let me repeat that.

The girl my little brother took to his high school prom is now engaged.

She's at least 6 years younger than I.

Um...there's nothing left to say.

Maybe a lengthier post on how this makes me feel will come later. Or...maybe I will spare you.

Shame on you.

Can we please strike this phrase from the English language? Seriously. Let's banish it. And if the phrase exists in other languages, let's banish it from those as well.

Definitions of shame:

1. A painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace.

2. A painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.

Why would any of us, imperfect humans, wish to put a feeling of humiliation, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace on anyone? Especially children, toward whom the phrase is often geared.

This phrase literally gives me the heeby jeebies. I cringe when I hear it. It needs to go.

Those are my two cents for the day.

I have a lot of feelings

And they all came out through my eyeballs today...twice. Wait, maybe three times.

I neeeeeeed to find a man who is not afraid of emotion. That is all.

That, and...I'm voting for Romney. And if Romney doesn't get the nomination, I may not vote for a president.

And I really don't think marriage should be a government thing.

Thank you, and good night.

Another post

I love music. And reading. And the news. But not politics.
And I love food. And spices.
I love nature. And walking. I love Jack, my dog. He has one eye. I love fire. Fireplaces are nice and cozy. I love the rain. I love big windows. I love long drapes. I like fleece blankets and homemade hot chocolate. I like smooth sheets and my fleece poncho.
I love singing talent shows like American Idol and The X-Factor. I love when people achieve their dreams.
I love Portland. I love short nails with dark nail polish. I like watching people who are in love interact with each other.
I love my niece. I love dimples.
I love diversity.
I love dramatic television shows. I love crying while watching dramatic television shows. I love watching LOST with my mom.
I like cooking sliced apples in coconut oil and coconut milk with Cinnamon and craisins. Yum.
I love the ocean. I love rivers. Water is good. I love trees. And green is my favorite color.

I love the realization of being a part of something bigger than myself. Like when I was in the symphonic band in high school. We won State my sophomore and junior year. Or like when I served my mission. We took the glad news to the South. Or like when I helped feed the homeless. Or when I heard baby Perry cry as she came into this world. Or when I touched my dad's lifeless body, cold and pale, with my small finger, but still felt his spirit beside me. I love the gospel. Because it's a mix of hope, truth, faith, reality, and the unknown. I love God, because I do. He loves me.

I love the guitar. And I love making percussion sounds in between strumming by hitting my palm on the wood of the guitar. I love singing.
I love listening to my brother sing. I love watching Kayleen smile at her baby when her baby wakes up from a nap. I love how Bobby works hard for his family. I love watching my mom knit. I love hearing Chuck laugh hard, because it rarely happens. When it does, it's priceless. I love reminiscing with Crystal Marley about watching Seinfeld. I love watching movies and eating ice cream with Matt, Penny, Ellie, Luke and Ben. I love the tenderness each one of those kids possesses. I love how Luke will walk up to me, hug me, and walk away. I love watching Ben snuggle up to his big sister, Ellie.
I love looking through pictures of my best friends from my childhood. I like seeing their children and how much their children look like them.
I love to write.
I love remembering.
I love journals.
I love exploring thought. I like empathy.
I love BYU-Idaho. And good professors.

I love life. And skipping. And jumping on trampolines.

This feeling is all too familiar.

I understand this song.


I can't wait to see her live in a few days. She captures experiences with such raw emotion.

I can't express enough...

How much I love paleo. I really do. It's such good food. Why is it good food? Because it's REAL food. It's natural food. It's light food. It's pure and flavorful food. I'm not sure where in our history the processed crap we get in boxes passed as actual food, but it's not. And I'm glad I've figured that out. Also, paleo exercises. Lift heavy things, walk, jump, run, climb, enjoy being active. It all makes so much sense. I love it.

Favorite paleo recipe blog HERE
Favorite paleo explanation blogs HERE and HERE
FAVORITE paleo podcast (and my favorite paleo media source over any other) HERE