I came to win, to survive.

Aug 29

I am not a word
I am not a line
I am not a girl that can ever be defined

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Aug 28

I just finished doing some refresh reading on the Mesoamerican Long Count Calendar. Wikipedia ate my heart during afternoon baby nap time. I hate when that happens.

I really miss my anthropology professors.

And I still kind of think December 21, 2012 might be rather spectacular.

In other news, I kicked off the transition from summer to fall with my first cup of pumpkin ice cream. My favorite season is just around the corner. October…I smell you coming. I’m dying to wear thicker sweaters and velvet heels, crank up the heat, and take walks through crunchy leaves with my little family.

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Smiles on a rainy day…week…month

Aug 27

My saving grace. Little Miss Audrey.

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Face paint.

Aug 22

Everything will be ok.

Because it has to be. And I shall make it so.

Tomorrow, I’ll paint on a new face and brave a new day and soothe new tears and say new things. And the sun will rise, just as it will set [for this, I am sure] and I’ll have another one under my belt.

Breathe, girl. You are stronger than these fears. You are stronger than these minor and insignificant splinters in what will soon be the history of your life.

Keep calm, carry on.

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Life is never easy for those who dream.

Aug 20

I’ve eaten only ice cream for dinner several days in a row, now.

Funny how the right ratio of stress:ice cream can actually make one skinnier. Women continue to hate me. It’s great.

There aren’t enough hours in the day.

I still feel awkward about everything.

Sometimes, I feel so enlightened, eager, and filled to the brim with ideas, thoughts, hopes and dreams. I want to share it all, I want others to see things or feel things, or understand things. But it’s as if all the bubbling thoughts and emotions get bottlenecked somewhere between my brain and my mouth. And nothing ever sounds quite right.

So I’m starting to think it’d be better if I stop talking all together. Give up, save face.

I want to make them all so happy. I work so hard to make people happy. I don’t know why, but I do know why, but regardless of the why and how…

I hate to sound selfish, but I really feel like it’s kind of my turn? Not a big turn…just a little turn.

I dream an awful lot for a clinical insomniac.

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