tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44485815275998139962024-02-20T02:09:37.532-08:00A Music As Sweet As CandyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-33546499526176762042012-04-25T03:39:00.004-07:002012-04-25T03:49:21.243-07:00There are things I've done in the past that I'm not proud of.There are choices I have made that I know I should not have made.<div>
This doesn't mean that I regret them.</div>
<div>
I own up to the fact that I made these choices knowing the possible consequences, knowing the definite consequences, knowing that I could have just as easily walked away. </div>
<div>
Let's be honest; when the time came for me to walk away, I didn't want to.</div>
<div>
Can I really look back and call that a regret?</div>
<div>
Honestly, if I could go back, I probably wouldn't change a thing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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I'm not proud of the choices I made but in a sense I'm glad I made them.</div>
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Despite the consequences, learning to cope with them has built up a new part of me that I never knew I had.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
So, before you say you have a lot of regrets, think back and look at the situation from a different perspective; remember how you really felt at that moment when the time came to go forth or walk away.</div>
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xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-49078285833161846182012-03-07T02:02:00.000-08:002012-03-07T02:02:22.834-08:00"Home"Home again.<br />
My own room.<br />
My own shelves.<br />
My own books.<br />
My own closet.<br />
My own clothes.<br />
My own trinkets.<br />
My own.<br />
Though I can physically touch all these things,<br />
I feel like I am stuck in a memory.<br />
It is as if everything is a part of who I used to be.<br />
Either that or I have forgotten a part of who I am.<br />
So many things;<br />
Colorful, random, weird, seemingly out of place,<br />
All remind me of the me I think I knew.<br />
The me that was seen as "Spazzy Jazzy"<br />
Hidden things I find amongst all these;<br />
Art, poetry, prose, lyric, decoration even,<br />
Show an unhealthy side of me.<br />
They bring back ungrateful memories of the me no one could ever see.<br />
The me with the tears in her eyes,<br />
The me with the knife in her bathroom drawer,<br />
The me with the bruises and bruised heard,<br />
The me behind the mask on her face.<br />
<br />
Now,<br />
I am none of these.<br />
I no longer feel that I live up to the me that was "Spazzy Jazzy"<br />
And I know I've left the other side forever.<br />
So then, who am I?<br />
I do not know and I fear I'll never discover it here.<br />
Did I lose my spunk?<br />
I feel that I have.<br />
I long to have spunk again, to be random and silly and spazzy<br />
I thought that was me<br />
It was me once,<br />
Was it not?<br />
Or was it all a charade to make others feel that I'm okay.<br />
I miss the adventure.<br />
I miss the laughing.<br />
I miss the dancing.<br />
I miss the variously colored painted nails.<br />
I miss the random words, subjects, and conversations.<br />
I miss the spontaneity.<br />
What happened to me?<br />
Now I am boring.<br />
Now I am foolish.<br />
Now I am mute.<br />
This home has trapped all my old memories inside.<br />
This home has become my asylum.<br />
This home has lost the feeling of a home.<br />
This home has remained the same.<br />
It is I who has changed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-64278064149069360232012-03-07T01:40:00.000-08:002012-03-07T01:40:29.179-08:00Changes and ExplanationsFirst of all, I haven't followed any recent posting assignments because I'm fasting facebook for lent. As a result I don't have the option of looking at the assignments which are posted on facebook. Secondly, I have more time at the moment to actually write only my motivation to write has just gone up in the air and only falls back down at the utmost impeccable times.<br />
<br />
There is so much going on right now and yet so little. The weather has been utterly amazing. It's been pouring rain, lightning and thundering since Friday. Although there were two hours of sun today, the clouds, rain and thunder all came back so quickly it's as if they'd never been gone. I am still jobless and the closer it gets to yet another departure from this island I somewhat call home, the harder it is to find a job. I decided I would definitely be happy to be staggiaire at this little cupcake bakery in the city. This way, there isn't too much obligation to be here forever since I won't be getting paid. I haven't turned in my resume yet. I'm still without a license which is just simply exhausting! I'll be going on Thursday morning with the hopes that there will be an opening for me.<br />
<br />
I'm stuck at home all day doing chore after chore and when I'm not I'm a couch potato and it really sucks. If I at least had my license I could drive to town and look for jobs, visit friends, go to the beach, or just go shopping. But no, I'm stuck and I hate it. Today my mother and I went shopping for boxes and a few things to help organize all my belongings. At least tomorrow I'll have something real productive to do.<br />
<br />
I look at the year ahead of me and I already see that it is such a roller coaster and I don't know if I'm ready for the ride.<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-57813209238123063102012-02-28T11:20:00.001-08:002012-02-28T11:20:54.066-08:00Hula "Above All"<iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yJgmtJiG-oI?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-49435172596070916252012-02-28T11:20:00.000-08:002012-02-28T11:20:22.212-08:00Hula "Who Am I?"<iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w9eW30M1ytE?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-24410557999678312902012-01-31T01:09:00.000-08:002012-01-31T01:09:37.483-08:00They say an artist's best work is revealed in the late hours of the night.Recently, on many nights, I lay awake in bed. It is most definitely past midnight and I am trying to sleep.<br />
Then a few lyrics will pop into my head and they're the some of the best lyrics I've ever thought up!<br />
But you see, here is my dilemma:<br />
If I get out of bed, turn on the light, and write these lyrics down, I very well may never get to sleep.<br />
However, I'll spend the next hour or so repeating the three lines of lyric over and over again in my head.<br />
I tell myself I will remember them when I wake.<br />
And when the morning comes, I can not remember a single word for the life of me.<br />
I think so hard but I never get anywhere far.<br />
In the end I've lost sleep and I've lost my lyrics.<br />
It's like my songs are out there, floating about.<br />
They can't find their way back around to me.<br />
Oh please, "baby come back to me"<br />
I never meant to set you free.<br />
Oh please, my lost words, won't you hear my plea!<br />
It is your brilliant rhythm and rhyme that can help make my dream a destiny.<br />
<br />
<br />
[xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy]</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-91841036409223164822012-01-25T16:56:00.000-08:002012-01-25T17:07:26.467-08:00An Unfound HomeI have not written in quite a while.<br />
Well here are the things worth writing that has happened so far.<br />
<br />
I finally went back home to Hawaii. I can't say whether I was truly happy about this. If I was, then I can't say how much happiness I could truly measure. It was the first time in four years that I'd be coming home to everything once again my own. My own room, to myself. My own bed, to myself. My own closet, to myself. My own desk, to myself. My own bathroom, to myself. No longer any cousins, grandmother, aunty, uncle, or brothers to share it with. I was indeed satisfied with this. Finally, I had something of my own.<br />
<br />
Though when I first walked through the doors of the house I'd called home for several years I felt the inescapable, utterly frightening feeling that I was not home. Everything around me looked so familiar. It looked like the home I knew. It smelled like the home I remembered. It was and still is the home that is etched into my memories. Why couldn't I shake this feeling that I wasn't home? That I wasn't where I truly belonged? This house no longer had a place for me though it currently has so much more space than it ever had available to take.<br />
<br />
The more I stayed and observed the new life my family adopted I realized that I was needed here. I felt needed. I saw the purpose of my coming home, the need for me to be with my family though the feeling and sense of not belonging here has never left my body. No matter how much I try to shake these thoughts and feelings away they cling to me like leeches.<br />
<br />
They say home is where the heart is. Though I know my heart is not a home and neither is the house I'd lived in for so long. <br />
Now I'm back in the bay area and I feel as if I'd simply been on a strange, backwards vacation. This is where I belong, where my heart has already deemed its home to be. However it pains me to see the need back where my family is. I see where I am needed and where I am needed I will be. I also see where I am destined to be in the future and very hopefully the near future and I wish so much that I could see at least this part of God's plan laid out for me on a map so that I could understand everything that's happening to me. I know one thing for sure. I absolutely need to be patient.<br />
<br />
Under most circumstances I am a very patient person. Lately my patience has been running dry. I'm trying hard to be patient, I am. It just gets harder and harder every day. It gets harder with every question that questions my future that I don't have an immediate or befitting answer to. I'm not as lame or pathetic as I sound to be right now. Honestly I'm waiting. I'm waiting on God. His timing is the perfect timing. Trust me, it's not an excuse that I'm using, I mean really, if it were completely up to me all of my surgeries would be over with by now, I'd have a job, a car, and I'd be going to school and living in the bay area. This is the desire of my heart and I know as long as I am patient and depending on God and I follow His will He will grant me the desires of my heart. My heart aches while it aches to have patience. Patience. Patience. Patience is the word the repeats itself in my mind to remind my heart that I must. be. patient.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><u><b>2 Corinthians 6:3-10 (New Living Translation)</b></u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">(3)</span></b> We live in such a way that no one will stumble because of us, and no one will find fault with our ministry. <b><span style="color: purple;">(4) </span></b>In everything we do, we show that we are true ministers of God. We patiently endure troubles and hardships and calamities of every kind. <b><span style="color: purple;">(5) </span></b>We have been beaten, been put in prison, faced angry mobs, worked to exhaustion, endured sleepless nights, and gone without food. <b><span style="color: purple;">(6) </span></b>We prove ourselves by our purity, our understanding, our patience, our kindness, by the Holy Spirit within us, and by our sincere love. <b><span style="color: purple;">(7) </span></b>We faithfully preach the truth. God's power is working in us. We use the weapons of righteousness in the right hand for attack and the left hand for defense. <b><span style="color: purple;">(8) </span></b>We serve God whether people honor us or despise is, whether they slander us or praise us. We are honest, but they call us impostors. <b><span style="color: purple;">(9) </span></b>We are ignored, even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we are still alive. We have been beaten, but we have not been killed. <b><span style="color: purple;">(10) </span></b>Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything.</div><span style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We are reminded to not give up hope. Hold on to our faith even if our faith becomes so small as a mustard seed. As long as we hold on to our tiniest seed of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, He will show us the way, the truth, and the Life and through Him we can move mountains. Not giving up hope, holding on to our faith, keeping our patience, it's all the same thing. It's all trusting in God. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-50512074249750772692011-12-07T12:23:00.000-08:002012-01-31T00:56:22.441-08:00Dear You,<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Dear you, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Just when I told you that I give up on military men, you said something that I never expected you to say. You see, when I first started telling people that I think I want to marry into the military a lot of people acted like it was just a phase, like I didn't know what I was talking about. They kept telling me all the negative things about it as if I had never factored the cons into the equation. So I finally let the negative things get to me. How he would be gone for many months at a time. How I would have to raise my kids on my own half the time. How it's really hard to find a god-fearing gentleman in the military. How a lot of men in the military have bad tempers. I let them get to me and decided fine, no more military.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Then you turned to me and told me what absolutely no one has told me. Honestly, I take your word for it because you know first hand what it's like to be a part of a military family. Your dad is in the military so I know that you miss him too when he's gone and that you know what it's like for your younger sisters and your mom. You told me that I would be a really good military wife. Why? You told me because I'm faithful. Not only that, you said that when he leaves, I know how to take care of myself and I will know how to take care of my children. When he comes back I'll be good at helping him "drop back in" to our lives as if he was only gone for a day or two. That I would make sure my children know what's going on and that they know their father. That I would let my husband recuperate if he needs to every time he comes back and that I would be good at preparing myself emotionally every time he leaves.<br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> I wanted to cry because I had always thought that I was capable of these things but I had never told anyone because since they had already rained down the cons I assumed they would just think that I'm just saying it because I feel like I have to defend myself. Now I know that I don't have to defend myself, I just have to be true to myself. You helped me see that because you know my true self and so you saw all these qualities in me and I didn't even have to say anything. I think in the same way it is similar to how I know you. I mean, at first, I never saw you with the man you're with now. That's because I had not yet known him and plus he was just a boy back then. Though the more time I spend with him I see how much you two fit together and I see how much he has changed into the man that you need in your life.</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> I'll admit I'm jealous of you sometimes because you really have not dated many guys and you've already found someone with whom you've had a committed relationship for three years. I find it amazing. However, when I find myself feeling a little jealous I remind myself that you went through hardships too and that your relationship is the ultimate example I should follow. This is why I stopped dating; because I want to follow your example in hopes that my patience will be well rewarded. In fact, because God blessed you so wonderfully, I know that He will bless me too and that I just have to be patient and continue to praise Him. In fact, you and him, your parents, my parents, even our family friends from church are all examples that God truly wants us to be happy and that there is such a thing as true love and marriages that last until we leave this world. I'm utterly and completely thankful to have you as one of my best friends. Even though we don't talk often, every time we do get a chance to talk or spend time with each other, I am just so happy and I get recharged and encouraged. You always encourage me to further my faith and trust in our God Almighty and I thank you so much for that. I love you so much from the depths of my heart and that will never change. You are not only my sister in Christ but also my sister in love. This goes for your sisters too and your parents are two of the best parents in Christ I could ever ask for.</span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I love you, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-51409083586366465652011-12-05T00:30:00.000-08:002011-12-05T00:30:17.070-08:00Quote, unquote.<div style="text-align: center;">"Too much of the good life ends up being toxic, deforming us spiritually."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>- David Goetz</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"> Many times I have found this to be so true. In his book <i>Crazy Love, </i>Francis Chan points out that a lot of things in this world are good by themselves. However, when we take it all in at once, we get so distracted or consumed that it keeps us from living fruitful lives for God. Reading this book is really starting to open my eyes. In fact, based on this little passage alone there are so many examples and insights that spring to life in my mind. Especially in today's world full of technology, which will only increase as time ticks on, it is so easy to get consumed into all these things that are "good." Let's start minimal. Cell phones: good for communication when you're out and about. In fact many household no longer have land lines as all or most members of the family have cellulars. Computers: today we can use the to read the news, watch movies, write blogs, do homework, keep in contact with each other, etc. Television: it keeps you entertained. Radio: It feeds you music or talk radio shows. Oh and by the way you can access the news through all of theses medias. These are all good things right? They have advanced our society to higher efficiency levels and in the process, I think, lower standards. So many things that are indeed good, can turn out to be bad for our relationship with God. Even things as simple as reading a book, eating food, or writing poems. If we don't make time for God, we can easily get lost in all the good around us and in the end it will all come crashing down into a whole mess of bad. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> From another point of view. This statement could also point out that many times, something so horribly wrong in our lives (or just something bad) has to happen before we can realize how blessed we are. If it takes a punishment to acknowledge a blessing then something is definitely wrong with our relationship with God. We should praise Him throughout the good and <i>continue</i> to praise Him throughout the bad. Our relationship with God is not meant to be "You give, I give. You take, I take." Also the bible does say that if we ask then we shall receive but that also doesn't mean the God is our maid. He does not bend to our every will, wish, or want. No. It is we who are blessed with what we need and so much more. When God blesses us I do believe that we are meant to pursue Him even more because <i>He</i> blessed <i>us.</i> It is not that <i>we</i> are praising <i>him</i> so <i>we</i> can <i>receive</i>. When we live like this, is when we are submitting to the relationship of "I only come to you when I want something." Often times we do this in our lives and sometimes it becomes a habit that we don't even realize it. In this sense, when our relationship with God has boiled down to this, that is when we are truly, spiritually deformed. It is sad, yes. Although the happy ending in this is that God has the power to make us whole again and if <i>we</i> pursue <i>Him</i> because <i>He</i> <i>blesses us</i> then we can be on the path to true fulfillment and life in light of Jesus Christ. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-69669343116459221142011-12-02T13:01:00.000-08:002011-12-02T13:01:55.856-08:00Two things.Lately so many short stories about Jane have been formulating in my mind. In fact, I want to write them. Then I get nervous. A few of these stories about Jane are going to be a little graphic and I'm not too sure that I can dumb it down enough to give Jane enough justice and meaning in her stories. I don't know. Tell me what you think.<br />
<br />
Also, I think I'd like to start a cookbook blog! I'll probably create it on Tumblr because Tumblr is the main site that I blog on. It will consist of recipes of my own and recipes that I love to make! Oooh! Pictures too! I think I'll make a cooking blog. When I do I will definitely post the link on here for you all to follow if you'd like. =)<br />
<br />
Back to stories of Jane. I feel like they are just aching to be written. Like so much relief will come upon me once it's all out. Oh but I don't know. I'm a bit conflicted. I may end up writing them anyway. However, I don't want to use them up as free writes so I shall wait as patiently as I can until we are assigned a short story.<br />
<br />
Until then,<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-10202830719700247612011-12-01T23:53:00.000-08:002011-12-01T23:53:07.564-08:00Oh. My. Goodness!Stephen Wilson Bethel is my new celebrity crush.<br />
Mmm mmm mmm he is just so dreamy! He's got like that perfect boy-band look turned into a man and just the perfect amount of body hair. Oh dear, a pretty boy like him can just make it so easy for me to let my imagination run wild. Ooh and I just love his accent in that new show on CW, Hart of Dixie. My oh my, can he please ask me out on a date? I mean, I know we're like 7 or 8 years apart but does age really matter? I hope his career blossoms from soap operas to movies so I can easily follow his career ^-^ now, now.... let's not get obsessed.<br />
<br />
Oooh, he is just so fine! >_<<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-17729198757136164192011-11-27T17:30:00.000-08:002011-11-27T17:31:48.059-08:00Nana's legacy.The best thing that happened this weekend is that my aunt gave me a box filled to the brim with my Nana's jewelry. I was so happy. When my grandmother first died, my aunt becky told me that I could choose whichever jewelry I wanted and that her granddaughter would get the rest. At the time, I was really young and a tomboy. Jewelry wasn't really my thing and I didn't exactly value things at the same level as I do now. When I came to the house on the Friday after Thanksgiving, this box was a lovely surprise. This time, her granddaughter was able to pick what she liked (which was about two pieces) and I got the rest. Several pieces are broken and need to be restored, but that is not a problem for me since I happen to have the necessary tools for repairing and enhancing jewelry.<br />
<br />
I also told my younger cousin that when I'm wearing something she really likes, she can have it. Also that I would pass down a lot of the collection to her. I need to keep some for my daughter too. So that's the best thing about this weekend.<br />
<br />
Oh! I also have an awesome black friday story but that, my dears, can wait until later.<br />
This post was for Nana.<br />
Nana's legacy... her jewelry is the key to many memories I have of her. Her style was definitely funky but the amazing thing is that a lot of it is in style today. Even if it was not, I would still wear them. I will wear them so that I'll have a story to tell. I will wear them so that I'll be reminded that I'll see her again some day. I will wear them so that Nana's legacy can live on.<br />
<br />
All my love Nana,<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxoSpazzyJazzyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-39218232175714072312011-11-27T17:18:00.000-08:002011-11-27T17:31:30.572-08:00A Happy Thanksgiving with a happy ending?Thanksgiving day with my family.<br />
Well... some of it. My parents and my oldest brother are in Hawaii. My older brother and I went to our relative's house to join their thansgiving dinner party. It was a lot of fun and it felt good to see my extended family again. People I haven't seen in a long time. I met my new baby cousin, four days old, Lyla Marie. So beautiful and so precious. I finally got the chance to spend time with my not-so-new baby cousin who is soon to be a year old. She took a liking to me so quickly. It was fun.<br />
<br />
Though, I did almost cry a couple times while I was eating. Why?<br />
Every time I ate a bite of stuffing I would think "hmmm, it's missing something" because my daddy makes the best stuffing I've ever had and eating stuffing made by my aunt on Thanksgiving day only reminded me how much I missed him.<br />
<br />
Not only that, a few people tried to talk to me about my parents or ask me if I know what they are up to for Thanksgiving. Of course I knew the answers, of course I let them know. I could hardly speak much though. I always gave short, to the point answers.<br />
<br />
Once I almost had to leave and go to the restroom. Thankfully I downed a whole glass of water instead, which caused me to hold my breath, which caused my tear ducts to stop.<br />
<br />
I wonder if anyone noticed.<br />
I don't think anyone did.<br />
Everyone was so immersed in their own separate conversations.<br />
I just sat amidst it all...eating. Slowly eating.<br />
<br />
Then pie came. There were five different kinds of pie and not one of them was custard.<br />
Custard, the pie I always bake every year.<br />
Custard, the pie that was my paternal grandfather's favorite.<br />
Custard, my favorite.<br />
<br />
There were five pies because my aunts wanted to buy everyone's favorite.<br />
She forgot my favorite.<br />
So we talked about getting a custard for the party the next day, and someone else wanted lemon custard.<br />
<br />
LEMON CUSTARD?!?!?!?<br />
<br />
What the heck kind of a pie is that?!<br />
<br />
Anyways, there was no custard pie. =(<br />
<br />
I really missed my family this weekend.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-5499520711422837942011-11-19T01:37:00.000-08:002011-11-19T01:42:30.799-08:00Rhetorical Questions. (Part One)<div class="p1"><span class="s1">Tell me, what do you do when you have feelings for someone who is out of your league?<br />
Okay, some may say there isn't such a thing as "out of your league" seeing as you can't control who you fall in love with. <br />
Not that this is about falling in love.<br />
You’re not in love, nor are you falling in love.<br />
Rephrase.<br />
Tell me, what do you do when you want someone who is out of your reach?<br />
Not just out of your reach, but so out of reach not only physically but mentally as well.<br />
Maybe not just that. It's as if the two of you run on different time lines. <br />
The older you get, the less the mathematical difference actually matters. <br />
To think that we grew up in the same place and then meet... well almost ten years later. <br />
Just one of us happened to be ten years too far, or maybe the other is just ten years not enough. <br />
What if you could relate with this person on so many levels, but you're still so many levels too short. <br />
You know what this person looks for and you know that you're not it. <br />
Tell me, why do you waste your thinking energy on the thinks that completely involve this person which you think, if only things were different, could have been thinking about you too. <br />
You go through the several scenarios in your mind.<br />
"If we spent more time together."<br />
"If I stayed"<br />
"If I had the guts to text or call this person out of the blue or to ask this person to just grab a cup of coffee with me, or maybe as simple as to walk to class with me."<br />
"If I had been older."<br />
"If I had been prettier."<br />
"If I had been taller."<br />
"If I had been... a different ethnicity."<br />
"If I had been more aggressive."<br />
You keep on thinking about the ifs, ands, ors, buts along with the should haves, could haves, and would haves.<br />
Then you realize you're being ridiculous because you'd never change a single thing about you just for someone to like you better or more.<br />
The reason that person is your friend-borderline-acquaintance in the first place is because that person took a liking to you.<br />
Now you just wish that you could admit, confess, reveal the way you feel and if everything goes wrong then be able to erase that memory and go back to the way things were because you'd rather be a friend-borderline-acquaintance than a not-anymore.<br />
So you end up not taking the risk.<br />
Rephrase.<br />
Tell me, what can you do when you have feelings for someone who is out of your league? </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="s1">xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-5387562570332133462011-11-19T01:12:00.000-08:002011-11-22T12:58:45.748-08:00Stories of Jane: Meant to Be<b> Have you ever been in love? </b><br />
<br />
I haven't; neither has Jane. It's her story I'll be telling to you. I promise it won't take long. Let me first start by proclaiming that this definitely will not be a story about love. As sure as elephants don't fly. Well, of course with the exception of Dumbo, however he is a fictional character. A figment of Walt Disney's imagination. Jane...her story isn't fiction.<br />
It was her first semester of college. Her first time living away from home and with two roommates. After school she always caught the metro to the station nearest her apartment and walked home. One night as she walked home she noticed a nice looking young man. At least, the silhouette of one. He was across the street, waiting to cross parallel to her. They looked at each other, and both looked away. As they crossed she saw him look again in her peripheral vision. She kept walking, home was only one house away.<br />
"Hey!" <br />
She heard him call. She stopped then. Looked over and watched as he jaywalked across the street and stopped in front of her. His hazel-green eyes stared down at hers, his dirty-blond hair freshly cut military style. His brawn evident in the way his white, short-sleeved t-shirt fit around his torso.<br />
"Whoa! You look way younger closer up." A soft scoff escaped her lips and her braces shown through as she replied calmly.<br />
"Hi. I'm eighteen." Her nervous smile could barely be covered up.<br />
"Hi. You're eighteen? I'm Austin." He presented his hand to her as if asking for a handshake. She shook his hand firmly, the way her father taught her.<br />
"I'm Jane. How old are you?"<br />
"Twenty-one."<br />
They continued to walk.<br />
"You live around here?" Jane asked him.<br />
"Well, right now I'm on my way to see a friend. I live around the corner and down the street."<br />
"Oh."<br />
"What about you?"<br />
"I live right here." She stopped in front of the gate to her apartment complex. She watched and blushed a little as Austin walked a few steps forward and then back tracked, realizing she had stopped.<br />
"Well, I came from school." Jane said as she pointed to her messenger bag. "I've gotta get inside and do homework."<br />
"Okay, well, can I have your number? We should hang out some time." Austin replied.<br />
Momentarily contemplating what her next words should be she fiddled with the keys in her hands, bit her lip a little bit before giving any kind of indication on her decision.<br />
"Umm, sure." She finally said. She figured maybe he wouldn't actually call her and that with this expectation of him not calling her, she wouldn't be disappointed considering she had no idea who this boy was. Though at the same time, here she was giving her phone number to a complete stranger. Nevertheless, she took the risk. They exchanged phone numbers and just before he left he asked her, <br />
"It's Emily, right?"<br />
"Uh, no. It's Jane. It's Austin, right?"<br />
"Yeah, Austin. I'll be sure to put you down as Jane in my phone. Nice to meet you." He finished and in an attempt for a better farewell he leaned in for a hug, though with her messenger bag placed in front of her it turned out to be quite awkward. A slight "Um" escaped her throat as he tried to hug her. When he pulled away they looked at each other again and he turned around and left, continuing his previous journey down the street. Jane turned toward the gate, put in her electric key, opened the gate, and walked through.<br />
"He's definitely not going to call me." She whispered to herself. <br />
Once in her apartment she changed into her sleep clothes and flopped onto bed, too tired to do any homework and not looking forward to work in the morning.<br />
<br />
[xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>]Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448581527599813996.post-54574152102893925812011-11-18T11:57:00.000-08:002011-11-18T11:57:49.125-08:00An Adequate SalutationGood morning and good afternoon!<br />
This could be the start of something wonderful or beautiful or perhaps wretched and ugly.<br />
Nevertheless, it doesn't matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.<br />
<br />
In the meantime,<br />
I'll fare thee well and guarantee that the future of this blog will have in store short stories, free writes, poems, songs, quotes, maybe pictures I may want to share.<br />
<br />
Have a lovely day.<br />
<br />
xoxo<i>SpazzyJazzy</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06905816172748996764noreply@blogger.com0