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“My heart beat so hard when I was near him, I feared he could hear my secret longing for him.”  ~Destiny Vaestus

…its like the zombie virus.  It lays dormant for awhile, then suddenly and violently shows itself.  Hurray.

I’ve got the itch.  Not the zombie virus itch, sadly.  Once again, I go about my usual ways, and out of nowhere this problem presents itself and I am again diving into this black hole of human emotion (For those of you thinking I am referring to some sort of STD…you are correct.  Not really, but I see the 12-year-old humor in it all).  Really, I sometimes hate having to go through the whole human ordeal.  I think feelings are pointless sometimes, depending on the situation.  Sounds a little cold, but a little envy for the emotionless life of a sociopath can be quite appealing sometimes, minus the whole “let me kill people and not care ” thing.  Some emotions are wonderful, like the love I have for the little zombler.  A mother’s love is nearly never painful.  Everything else though can be a little intimidating at times.  I hate how society has deemed what emotions are appropriate for us to feel and the circumstances in which we are socially allowed to feel them. 

I guess the argument is this:  Why is it so bad to feel emotion for someone if it doesn’t follow social norms?

I mean, I understand the reckless aspect of it all.  It’s never a good idea to meet a guy, fall for him in a day, and then ring and a baby by the end of the month.  However, why is it an issue to long for someone after a few weeks?  Why is it socially awkward to want to be with someone when really you have no basis to, other than you feel something?  Then, to add insult to injury…you express how you long for that person…they respond in the same fashion, yet because of the rules of our society, those feelings must be suppressed.  Fear of rejection and going against the norm get in the way.  Is it so wrong to wholeheartedly throw yourself into the raw emotion you feel?  If the result isnt death or destruction, is it so wrong to cave and just go with that raw unabashed primal instinct to just be with that person?  Who says there need be a time limit that designates when passion is appropriate?

Why must distance be an issue?  Our society deems long distance relationships somewhat risqué and we are told they are nearly impossible to be happy in.  However, why is this so?  I understand the need for physical satisfaction, but other than the lessened amount of sexual contact, why does distance have to play a factor?  Distance is nothing.  Today, we have planes, cars, internet, etc.  Distance is a big joke. 

It is obvious to you, my dear readers, that I am having a hard time grasping this issue at hand.  It may also be obvious then, that I have gotten myself into quite the situation.  I would love to walk away and remain cold, as I try to with many other areas in my life.  But when it comes to the opposite sex it is nearly impossible for me to do so.  I am so picky and barely ever decide to give another my romantic interest.  When I do, it can be fleeting.  So why is it then, that when I actually want someone this time instead of vice versa, that all of this gets in the way?  I eagerly await the day when they create a pill that allows us to not feel attraction, so that we as humans can focus on humanitarian issues, career, etc. 

Until then, however, I am unable to get him off of my mind.  A few weeks is obviously nothing once you have made up your mind.  I curse society for ruining this opportunity that I had to actually let go of my inhibitions and experience something.

In every day terms…I’m sprung.  I want him so bad.  and he’s almost on the tip of my tongue, I can almost taste it….but its looking grim.

I obviously ditched on project 365, and my camera is on the fritz,

Ps. Allow me to leave you with ridiculous amounts of quotes that apply to my current mood.

The same passions in man and woman nonetheless differ in tempo; hence man and woman do not cease misunderstanding one another.  ~Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough.  You must want it with an exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world.  ~Sheila Graham

No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens. ~Abraham Lincoln

Sex is God’s joke on human beings. ~Bette Davis

Sex relieves tension – love causes it. ~Woody Allen

Don’t smother each other. No one can grow in the shade. ~Leo Buscaglia

Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important. ~Carl Reiner

To know when to go away and when to come closer is the key to any lasting relationship. ~Doménico Cieri Estrada


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Blood Moon…Day Five

…it looked like it was going to crash into Earth.

DAY FIVE: The moon is giant and ready to fight.

...the frozen moon in all its glory.


I have been bad.  I did not post day five’s picture, although I did, in fact, take one.  It is of the moon.  It was so big as I was driving home from the gym that I was practically hypnotized by it.  I have always been in love with the moon.  My entire family has been calling me ‘Lunar’ since I was a toddler…maybe that influenced my love for the thing, who knows?  I recently bought the zombler a giant moon for his new bedroom. It goes through solar phases and is battery operated. I love it.  This photo does not capture the moon in all of its glory, because I could not get a good shot of it from my front yard.  I didn’t dare trek into the back yard for a photo because it was below zero outside and we live in front of woods…I could have been eaten.



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…although it could use a good washing.

DAY FOUR: Nobody wants to touch my bag.

...I think that's juice on it...?

So I won’t lie.   Today I lagged on the photo taking-ness.  I left my camera at home and did not document the more exciting things that occurred (among them, almost punching everything out of rage and then eating a delicious marathon-friendly salad after work with friends.).  Instead, I have decided to take a photo of ‘Sparticus’ AKA my bag.

I know its ungraceful to carry a ‘bag’ instead of a ‘purse’ or a ‘hand bag’, but that’s me.  As much as I lie to myself and say it, I’m not the most feminine when it comes to fashion.  Also, it’s probably not normal to have a bag that has a name, but I have this tendency to name all of my inanimate objects…the best being my old guitar Leroy (RIP).  Anyways, I created my bag by myself with a good ol’ Sharpie and a steady hand.  It says ‘One Among The Fence’ on it in tribute to my favorite band (Coheed and Cambria. Live it, love it.) and is covered in various diseases and filth.  I know that some of the mess is juice.  I know that some of it is dog blood as well (don’t ask…its work related.).  Everyone has begged me to wash it, but I just kind of put it off.  Yes, its sheer laziness. 

For those of you thinking, “Gee…I wish I had a bag.”…don’t.  They are impractical. They are ugly. You can drop something into one and then never ever see it again because it will sink to the bottom and get eaten. 

I figure if anything, I can always use Sparticus to fend off muggers and rapists when I’m walking in the dark.  One touch from my bag and any prospective attacker will feel their skin melt away from its filth. 

I love my bag,


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…or possibly (and more likely) a flu epidemic.

DAY THREE: Everyone is sick and contagious at work.

...Nickellina and I may be the last survivors.

So there has been this super intense illness going around lately, and I’m beginning to get paranoid that I will catch it.  You would think that working at an animal hospital would mean that we would all be safe from everything except worms.  You couldn’t be more wrong.  More often than not, our hospital is a hotbox for germs, mainly because people are so broke that they will come to work regardless of the raging viral infections that are attacking their insides and shooting outside to attack the rest of us.  Basically, we are doomed.

So, day three is a snapshot I took of my beloved friend Nicki, early in the AM, before we were exposed and attacked by the rabid germs of our coworkers.  I hope we make it out alive.  God speed, Nickellina.

 I would like to say that my plant in the background of my photo was turning brown due to germies in the air, but alas, I neglected to water it this week. Don’t worry, I gave it love before I left. It will soon be green once more.


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…between you and me.

As I sat here pondering to myself in my own little world, I came to the realization that if I were as perfect as a porcelain doll, I wouldn’t need anyone but myself.  And, I would live in a cottage and make tea and do things like walk through the woods.

and this is what you think is weird, and this is the difference between you and me.


-au revoir

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Great Things Planned…

…for this blog. Stay Tuned.

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…so I guess that means I should appreciate mine a little more and shampoo it today.  Rawrrgrggrgrrranuuueeerrrrbrainnnssss.

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