<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308</id><updated>2012-02-22T12:36:33.375-08:00</updated><category term='flim flam man'/><category term='sad'/><category term='earth'/><category term='tired'/><category term='fort wayne'/><category term='Anderson'/><category term='privileged'/><category term='death'/><category term='wine'/><category term='library'/><category term='meditation'/><category term='anxiety'/><category term='travel'/><category term='laundry'/><category term='dancing'/><category term='dumb'/><category term='trees'/><category term='deathly cold'/><category term='brothers'/><category term='unfair'/><category term='dead dads'/><category term='do it best'/><category term='driving'/><category term='work'/><category term='Eustachian tubes'/><category term='good day'/><category term='navy'/><category term='science'/><category term='death cab for cutie'/><category term='friends'/><category term='shoes'/><category term='future'/><category term='clouds'/><category term='massage'/><category term='indiana'/><category term='healing'/><category term='hat'/><category term='bram'/><category term='tequila'/><category term='daily life'/><category term='brain tumors'/><category term='snow day'/><category term='favorites'/><category term='breathing'/><category term='raise the roof'/><category term='jeeves'/><category term='boner'/><category term='tiny back pack'/><category term='happy'/><category term='la porte'/><category term='sunrise'/><category term='sappy'/><category term='life'/><category term='Bieber bangs'/><category term='items'/><category term='favorite man ever'/><category term='indianapolis'/><category term='air plane'/><category term='jobs'/><category term='drainage'/><category term='autumn'/><category term='tonsillitis'/><category term='nashville'/><category term='baked goods'/><category term='things'/><category term='suicide'/><category term='pain'/><category term='bram stoker'/><category term='religion'/><category term='husband'/><category term='weird'/><category term='unhappy'/><category term='chaos'/><category term='tea'/><category term='surprise'/><category term='new years eve'/><category term='love'/><category term='content'/><category term='banned books'/><category term='bedrooms'/><category term='healthy'/><title type='text'>all colors all directions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-8453912718082390814</id><published>2012-02-15T19:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T19:45:11.148-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unhappy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead dads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dumb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>i can offer you a warm embrace</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jqCe9XJzK3A/Tzx3-NhbO8I/AAAAAAAAAzM/1tSYhul8XLs/s1600/-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jqCe9XJzK3A/Tzx3-NhbO8I/AAAAAAAAAzM/1tSYhul8XLs/s320/-3.jpg" width="291" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There are lots of different reasons to be sad. I'm experiencing about half of them -- all together. Topping the list, I just really miss my dad. I think that's okay to say nearly 12 years after his death. I didn't know him, but I bet he would really *get* me. I would wager that he might be close to the only one who could - but what am I to do? I wonder if he would wonder at 48, "could I have been more?" But he doesn't get that luxury. Well, fuck, let's call it like it is: I don't get that luxury. I don't get the luxury of being stable or being happy for longer than 4 days in a row.. I just can't get over the idea that maybe it's his fault. There, I said it. Getting mad after 12 years? Probably not normal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of people don't have dads. Lots of people borderline hate their jobs. Lots of people feel empty and relentlessly void. I am not unique in my trials and burdens. The unhinging of my life is ancient. Survival, really. Survival really gets me down. Understanding how it's done escapes me daily. Mostly, I feel like I'm not a real human. The things I do are tiny and dumb. I have a body that fails and a mind that fails and a heart that does, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a mess, really. But when I really shake it down and label what it really is, I feel trite and like tomorrow's biggest idiot. I'm sad about a decade dead dad and about my job. What the hell? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did life get dumb and hard?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-8453912718082390814?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/8453912718082390814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-can-offer-you-warm-embrace.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8453912718082390814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8453912718082390814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-can-offer-you-warm-embrace.html' title='i can offer you a warm embrace'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jqCe9XJzK3A/Tzx3-NhbO8I/AAAAAAAAAzM/1tSYhul8XLs/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5651078536757537156</id><published>2012-02-06T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T19:53:07.380-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorite man ever'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedrooms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breathing'/><title type='text'>we live half at night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMFSJjzMHKE/TzCcxWmyRJI/AAAAAAAAAyo/WJpO8MIAxlE/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMFSJjzMHKE/TzCcxWmyRJI/AAAAAAAAAyo/WJpO8MIAxlE/s320/-2.jpg" width="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I just told him the other day, we have the nicest room I've ever seen. And I mean it. Well, not really the nicest... with the cracks in the paint and the gaps between the wall and floor. But that's not what I'm talking about anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice. We have a fern in there. And a painting by him of a red-winged blackbird. We have comfortable blue walls and brown floors, a low bed with clean sheets and four windows. &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Four windows&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. A cat tree by two of these windows and various old things scattered around in a kind of decorative way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how we met? It actually doesn't matter. We met. We liked. We have been together for 9 years. We broke up five times in the first year, well, four almost five. I talked him out of the fifth with a strong arm. And here we are, married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aware is an understatement. I become an elevated-aware when I'm in my negativity pit of how amazing this can be. Him and me - keeping each other alive by living this little life. He's good. And funny. And sweet. We both have talked about the severity of the term "soul mate" - there's a lot of responsibility there. We don't believe in it. We don't. We're sure that we weren't designated by the universe to be the ONLY ONE for the other - that's just absurd. But Jesus Christ, I'm happy we designated ourselves for the other. I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of my day today was coming home to him making me food with a happy heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's why our room is the best room ever. I get to retire the day with him breathing next to me. On our separate pillows, under our separate covers, sharing the same air and mostly, the same heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5651078536757537156?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5651078536757537156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-live-half-at-night.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5651078536757537156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5651078536757537156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-live-half-at-night.html' title='we live half at night'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMFSJjzMHKE/TzCcxWmyRJI/AAAAAAAAAyo/WJpO8MIAxlE/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-8774271924043046935</id><published>2012-01-30T19:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T19:50:43.436-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='science'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indiana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clouds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='content'/><title type='text'>see no future, pay no rent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SPwg2_Dw8-Y/Tyda7snxl7I/AAAAAAAAAx4/WQoUdBBMR18/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SPwg2_Dw8-Y/Tyda7snxl7I/AAAAAAAAAx4/WQoUdBBMR18/s320/-1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm not kidding when I talk about religious experiences in my car. I have them a lot. Once I was listening to Africa by Toto. I don't understand, and honestly, I will never try - but one rainy day I was on my home from Huntington, listening to the radio. I ended up singing about as loudly as a human can and crying my eyes out. It remains enigmatic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write - or not really WRITE, but mostly come up with most of my ideas behind the wheel. I do. I just can't stop it. I jot down crazy and messy words that will trigger a memory or a thought I serenely had alone on 600 N. Or I'll text a short note in my phone on I-69 that punches me with poignant emotion...for example: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Harvest-dust smells sweet, settling in my lungs under a sky I won't ruin with words" or &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes the tree bark in my blood gives me a rest. And I think the earth is turning like it should."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let's face the reality, Toto and writing blows any other kind of religion I've tried out of the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lets not forget about what happened yesterday. The clouds were sickeningly insane. I can't begin to comprehend the overwhelming sense of warmth coursing through my blood. I was driving into the best mixture of moisture, light, dark and earth science. I needed to pull over and dip my hands in mud near a cemetery. Or offer some sort of gift to the universe that might make it think about gracing me with these skies everyday. Or lay flat in the fields near homes nestled comfortably in a county kind of forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't do these things. Instead, I took pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I thought, I'll blog about this. I, also, thought that my car just might be the only real sanctuary for a gal like me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-8774271924043046935?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/8774271924043046935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/see-no-future-pay-no-rent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8774271924043046935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8774271924043046935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/see-no-future-pay-no-rent.html' title='see no future, pay no rent'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SPwg2_Dw8-Y/Tyda7snxl7I/AAAAAAAAAx4/WQoUdBBMR18/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2401213377804113636</id><published>2012-01-25T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T20:34:07.400-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unfair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='library'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bram'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brain tumors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorites'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indiana'/><title type='text'>The party's done, the cake's all gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Akk7KF5wHlM/TyDI0K4zb9I/AAAAAAAAAxg/wnWTfkwWRkQ/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Akk7KF5wHlM/TyDI0K4zb9I/AAAAAAAAAxg/wnWTfkwWRkQ/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It happens no matter where you are. You pick favorites. Horse races - favorites. Clothes - favorites. Kids - favorites. Books - favorites. Foods - favorites. Library patrons - favorites. It just, naturally, happens. You connect with something of a likeness. You talk and laugh and talk and laugh and think, "Yep, this is it." I have favorite library patrons/customers - I do. I won't pretend I don't and say things like, "Nope, they all are special" or some shit like that. I will just flat out tell you, I have favorites. It's good to have people who resonate with your soul. I won't apologize for it. Some babies stand out among the mass. Some grown-ups stand out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't gathered already, I'm talking about specific library patrons. There's a baby with floppy hair and two, yes, TWO teeth on the same side of his mouth that make him look like a little monster. He knows me. He knows me by my voice because of storytime, he knows me by my smile. He knows me because I love him. This baby has a dad. This dad likes me. We click. We laugh and talk and shoot the shit and laugh again about his family from Louisville and the other babies in storytime. We get each other. He's dapper, you know? Black pea coat, salt 'n' pepper hair, thin framed glasses and a good singing voice - but that's not why I like him. I like because he's nice to his baby and to me and to other parents and because we just have something internal that settles easily and comfortably with one another. We like each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what, guys. He just found out he has a brain tumor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the kind of nonsensical world we live in. Dads get brain tumors. Dads die in fires. Sometimes the dads who deserve to live and be healthy don't and arent'. The Dads who are despicable, you know, the abusers who suck at life, live and are healthy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a somber day, indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god damn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2401213377804113636?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2401213377804113636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/partys-done-cakes-all-gone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2401213377804113636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2401213377804113636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/partys-done-cakes-all-gone.html' title='The party&apos;s done, the cake&apos;s all gone'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Akk7KF5wHlM/TyDI0K4zb9I/AAAAAAAAAxg/wnWTfkwWRkQ/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6741601479852657662</id><published>2012-01-24T17:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T17:26:50.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surprise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jeeves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indiana'/><title type='text'>kiss me and kiss me until i'm dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0smKap8xNBI/Tx9UDSoRjUI/AAAAAAAAAxM/IBPmEKNtrYU/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0smKap8xNBI/Tx9UDSoRjUI/AAAAAAAAAxM/IBPmEKNtrYU/s320/-1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"To the park, Jeeves, it's been a good day." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nena says that, "to the park, Jeezes" and usually it doesn't make much sense. I think it's from some movie, but I'm unclear on that, too. So, be prepared for that sometimes, you know? The unexpected saying that never really does make much sense even in context. Life is like that sometimes, funny and unexpected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had lunch with a library friend who somehow likes me. He's just way cooler than me and it sounds totally middle school to put it in such ridiculous terms, but it's so true. And it was nice. We laughed and talked about people going under for surgery and not waking up (we didn't laugh about that per se) and trips to the southwest and how we'll never truly *love* the new Jimmy John's location and a tad bit of religion and what that does to people on Facebook and so on and so forth. It was nice. I mean, beyond nice. It's good to find likeness in people. I think so, anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back to work, these cute little black flats with so much bling on the toe were just sitting politely on my desk. I promptly tried them on and got super nervous that they weren't for me. But don't worry. They were! Don't even get me started on how well the fit. And just how much I like them! Jesus, this is boring, I know - but funny, too, in an unexpected way. And subtle things, too. Free shoes that actually fit from an *almost* complete stranger who thinks they'd "look cute" on me is a big red balloon of funny, but the small things, too, can actually paralyze me. Like, a tiny gap toothed boy telling me I did a good job at his storytime. Like, 52 kids jumping and laughing and doing silly dances (wait, that's a BIG thing). Like, having a best friend who calls just to tell me she loves me. I mean, life is like that. Life is good sometimes especially when you don't expect it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bored yet? That's okay, be bored. Be a carbon based vessel filled up with boredom, but do it with a happy heart. Listen to The Sunscreen song, I mean, really listen to it. Watch something or read something or think of something that makes you happy. Let life say, "to the park, Jeeves" and think about my beautiful Nena who loves wine so much and makes funny jokes that don't make sense. Think about loving so hard. Life is crazy nuts.   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6741601479852657662?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6741601479852657662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/kiss-me-and-kiss-me-until-im-dead.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6741601479852657662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6741601479852657662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/kiss-me-and-kiss-me-until-im-dead.html' title='kiss me and kiss me until i&apos;m dead'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0smKap8xNBI/Tx9UDSoRjUI/AAAAAAAAAxM/IBPmEKNtrYU/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1245272019232073834</id><published>2012-01-23T19:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T19:52:11.232-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anxiety'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='massage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditation'/><title type='text'>If that's movin up then i'm movin out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7dZAtlJ376g/Tx4m_FqFPUI/AAAAAAAAAws/gOm-B1vlLxs/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7dZAtlJ376g/Tx4m_FqFPUI/AAAAAAAAAws/gOm-B1vlLxs/s320/-2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about healing. But first, let's talk about our bodies. More specifically, my body. It's really damaged. I've done a terrible job at maintaining my beautiful carbon instrument. Seriously. I have. My back is a knotted mess of anxiety and stress. I don't know how to combat this. I'm too uptight, wound-up and high strung. Meditation? I don't know. Give me suggestions. I need help.** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a deep tissue massage today and a few times I nearly puked all my basil and orange infused water up. The pain, sometimes, was unbearable. How do I heal from this travesty? What have I done to bring this on? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to heal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Note: If you think about giving me stupid suggestions, which includes things that are stupid, keep them to yourself. Don't, I repeat, DON'T tell me to pray or to chill out or dumb things like that, k? Cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1245272019232073834?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1245272019232073834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-thats-movin-up-then-im-movin-out.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1245272019232073834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1245272019232073834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/if-thats-movin-up-then-im-movin-out.html' title='If that&apos;s movin up then i&apos;m movin out'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7dZAtlJ376g/Tx4m_FqFPUI/AAAAAAAAAws/gOm-B1vlLxs/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5861803774412903863</id><published>2012-01-16T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T18:16:33.361-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indiana'/><title type='text'>The race is long, and in the end, only with yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r66e0Bm5ukc/TxTZ_Xgqn_I/AAAAAAAAAwE/1o89ApWF1Ho/s1600/-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r66e0Bm5ukc/TxTZ_Xgqn_I/AAAAAAAAAwE/1o89ApWF1Ho/s320/-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the dishes today. I've been feeling droopy and like dragging my knuckles through the dirt. I don't know, I'm tired and all broken out in a burny, itchy hive due to &lt;a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0000672/"&gt;this antibiotic &lt;/a&gt; that the surgeon prescribed to me after I got loads of infection in my jaw after the dry socket after the wisdom tooth was removed. *phew* A little reminiscent of There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, just not near as funny. Anyway, so dragging the knuckles lots. But earlier, I decided that it was time to do something. I chose the dishes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I did. It was refreshing. All the while, my husband hung out with me in the kitchen. I'm lucky. I am. I've sang about it here before. I bet it's too sappy to keep saying it, but he's the perfect counter to my crazy. He's good and easy going and stable - and we pass the baton. It's usually me who feels a tinge of gray, but when he does, I go all stable and calm. It's a good working thing. We're homeostasis, mostly. The days we aren't, it's like the universe is tilted out of whack and volcanoes are accidentally fuming and rivers are running backward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while I was washing dishes and he was hanging with me, he gets up and says, "I need a q-tip". He walks, grabs one, does his ear thing and comes back to me, near the sink. That's how life is around here. And it's good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5861803774412903863?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5861803774412903863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/race-is-long-and-in-end-only-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5861803774412903863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5861803774412903863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/race-is-long-and-in-end-only-with.html' title='The race is long, and in the end, only with yourself'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r66e0Bm5ukc/TxTZ_Xgqn_I/AAAAAAAAAwE/1o89ApWF1Ho/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3686566143230065106</id><published>2012-01-13T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T14:23:15.266-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sappy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='raise the roof'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='privileged'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indiana'/><title type='text'>...and your mommy sunddenly becomes your daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ln38y7veE8/TxCseaheGiI/AAAAAAAAAvg/a7RTc8BYq6k/s1600/-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ln38y7veE8/TxCseaheGiI/AAAAAAAAAvg/a7RTc8BYq6k/s320/-5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I have a good life - three boys who love me (one human, two cats), a sweet little downtown apartment with plenty of natural light, food in my mouth and booze in my belly, hot water and warm socks on this ridiculous snow day. I have a job that utilizes my (excellent) people skills and uncanny knack to identify with children. I have literacy on my side, long blond hair and some nasty cool new christmas clothes. I have the internet, so I can know many things in very few seconds, update my blogs and laugh at yours (if and only if they are about things I like to laugh at). Health hangs out with me on a consistent basis. So do my friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get sappy, I have to get down on paper (or fake cyber paper, as the case may be) how lucky I am and, equally good, how lucky I feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably, if you are reading this, I love you. And thanks for being the person you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3686566143230065106?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3686566143230065106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-your-mommy-sunddenly-becomes-your.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3686566143230065106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3686566143230065106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/and-your-mommy-sunddenly-becomes-your.html' title='...and your mommy sunddenly becomes your daddy'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ln38y7veE8/TxCseaheGiI/AAAAAAAAAvg/a7RTc8BYq6k/s72-c/-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4827231935688186795</id><published>2012-01-10T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T08:39:58.265-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dancing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healthy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new years eve'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='items'/><title type='text'>brother and sister together will make it through</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGZITggtdD4/Tw0Be-8ip5I/AAAAAAAAAu8/EKT4MozdeeQ/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGZITggtdD4/Tw0Be-8ip5I/AAAAAAAAAu8/EKT4MozdeeQ/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today was great. Everything I did, I did skipping. And smiling. It's really drastic, you know, feeling good after feeling SO BADLY for days and days. I'm going to lay it all out on the line and say that today was the best day in at least 8 days. My life will always revolve around the past 6 days as Pre-Wisdom Teeth and Post-Wisdom Teeth. "Oh, remember when we went to Flashbacks and danced so hard and that weird guy tried to put his hand down your pants?!" And I'll say, "For sure! that was PRE-WISDOM TEETH." And we'll laugh. (Honest. That's how it will go.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, did you hear what I said? I went to Flashbacks (!!), danced my ass off, fell down, and was sexually, in a very dancey manner, accosted by some tall ginger haired boy. I was all, "aww, NO HE DEEDN'T" but he did. He was dancing up on me. Nuts. Luckily, my theological and bearded friend Bryce was there to violently dance him away! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than Handsy McGee, dancing, and dancing so hard, was amazing! The first 3 hours of the New Year I was moving my feet with hundreds of strangers. And it wasn't weird until... well, it got weird. &lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qUXMgOxmjx0/Tw0DjYYcIkI/AAAAAAAAAvI/j-rtGyQr0Rg/s1600/-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qUXMgOxmjx0/Tw0DjYYcIkI/AAAAAAAAAvI/j-rtGyQr0Rg/s320/-4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;br/ &gt;&lt;br/ &gt;We're going again. and soon. &lt;br/ &gt;&lt;br/ &gt;I know I've said this, but maybe I'll actually mean it this time: &lt;br/ &gt;I'm going to blog more. I will. I will care for this blog like it's existence depends on me, because, well, .. you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4827231935688186795?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4827231935688186795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/brothers-and-sisters-together-will-make.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4827231935688186795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4827231935688186795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2012/01/brothers-and-sisters-together-will-make.html' title='brother and sister together will make it through'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGZITggtdD4/Tw0Be-8ip5I/AAAAAAAAAu8/EKT4MozdeeQ/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3556270237261458902</id><published>2011-12-07T13:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T13:55:39.183-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anderson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='air plane'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flim flam man'/><title type='text'>Look at me now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--f4ntc8ueyk/Tt_cJen2vyI/AAAAAAAAAs8/DZX4S66zSic/s1600/jetplane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--f4ntc8ueyk/Tt_cJen2vyI/AAAAAAAAAs8/DZX4S66zSic/s400/jetplane.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm a tired human being. And, as evidenced by this blog, not a very consistent one. I try. I really do try. I always thinking, "man, I should blog that" or "it's been a while since i visited my own blogs" or "writing and I used to be buddies.. let's do that again", but whatever. i've been jet-setting the shit out of this country. So, I guess i'm trying to say "sorry". Sorry for letting you down, readers. All one of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This past weekend was spent in Memphis. I ran the St. Jude's 5k. I did great. Don't mean to brag, but i just did. whatcha' gonna do? It's decided - I'm starting to train for longer distances, by this time next year I will have a half marathon under my belt. it's crazy to be motivated about running... excited and weirdly inspired. i'll take it, though - right now i don't have much else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, internets, give me direction. tell me what the hell to do. the future is bleak when you don't have a clue as to what should happen..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, i've got my health and new make-up. What else matters?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3556270237261458902?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3556270237261458902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/12/look-at-me-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3556270237261458902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3556270237261458902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/12/look-at-me-now.html' title='Look at me now'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--f4ntc8ueyk/Tt_cJen2vyI/AAAAAAAAAs8/DZX4S66zSic/s72-c/jetplane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1178983437373316897</id><published>2011-11-01T18:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T18:22:04.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nashville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autumn'/><title type='text'>go find another lover.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_mnDKUGqW6U/TrCbL6AZLzI/AAAAAAAAAq0/_Tp5iJ2lmwc/s1600/senior%2Bportrait" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_mnDKUGqW6U/TrCbL6AZLzI/AAAAAAAAAq0/_Tp5iJ2lmwc/s400/senior%2Bportrait" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;nashville senior portrait. aka: blog post to come soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1178983437373316897?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1178983437373316897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/11/go-find-another-lover.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1178983437373316897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1178983437373316897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/11/go-find-another-lover.html' title='go find another lover.'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_mnDKUGqW6U/TrCbL6AZLzI/AAAAAAAAAq0/_Tp5iJ2lmwc/s72-c/senior%2Bportrait' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6207082044776650273</id><published>2011-10-18T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T20:16:52.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiny back pack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wine'/><title type='text'>the only time i feel alright is by your side</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUXuRZ31hcE/Tp47UTCd_9I/AAAAAAAAAqc/seoROpE3HcE/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUXuRZ31hcE/Tp47UTCd_9I/AAAAAAAAAqc/seoROpE3HcE/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;this life is crazy mixed up busy and mind blowing. yep. traveling and working and moving shit out of our bedroom to get hardwood floors. living with  your clothes in your living room is whack. whatever. so, i've nearly polished off 3/4 of a bottle of wine tonight. i hate to say this, because it shows that i have eating issues AND drinking issues, but i deserve as many calories as i want tonight because work sucks major dick. (excuse the expression. i know, it's crass). i like my job sometimes, people. don't get me wrong. but sometimes it's just so hard. hard. hard. hard. hard like a jersey shore boner. that's what i said earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's a run down: first and foremost, my big fat ass has got to start running again. I run a race on December 3rd. I can't be last place. that'll make me feel badly. secondly, i'm going to see my mom this weekend. sometimes i get nervous about that. it'll be fine. i came from her carbon and blood and foam. third, i get to see my friends jon and amy at the end of this month! fourth, i get to see my friend beremy (who is going to live with me - and we're gonna start a baking/brewing blog and things are going to be awesome because i feel so lonely and i'm actually going to have a friend who will hang out with me... and so on and so on!) and this weekend, while i'm away, my landlord is renovating my floors. i'm excited. it'll be a nice ass change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's this other thing i want to tell you, i can drink a quarter of a bottle of wine and still type a blog post. i'm not sure if that's good. or if that's bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one more thing. that's me with a TINY back pack on my back. that's my face saying "don't even, yeah right!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6207082044776650273?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6207082044776650273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/only-time-i-feel-alright-is-by-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6207082044776650273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6207082044776650273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/only-time-i-feel-alright-is-by-your.html' title='the only time i feel alright is by your side'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUXuRZ31hcE/Tp47UTCd_9I/AAAAAAAAAqc/seoROpE3HcE/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2525556702770069140</id><published>2011-10-13T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T20:03:38.267-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='la porte'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead dads'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anderson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chaos'/><title type='text'>i walk upon the river like it's easier than land</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzdzYteT5vk/TpeZ22zTpSI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sYQBw8yR7VM/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzdzYteT5vk/TpeZ22zTpSI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sYQBw8yR7VM/s320/-1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;it's raining. it's been raining all day. and that's okay. I did a lot of driving and sometimes driving in the rain is good for the soul, today it was good.&lt;br /&gt;i went to &lt;a href="http://www.cityoflaporte.com/"&gt;La Porte, Indiana&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; i have history there. and family there. and a dead dad there. i also have a cousin who does hair there. that's basically why i went - to get my highlights and a trim. but i visited the graveyard.&lt;br /&gt;it's weird how walking through the gate felt like a homecoming. i didn't have big revelations, i didn't actually *say* words to the grave stone like they do in the movies, i wasn't sad and weepy - i just was. i was comfortable and hiding underneath an umbrella.&lt;br /&gt;i did take off my shoes. i wanted the soles of my feet to touch the ground that covered my kin - it was probably the best part of the day. i stood there. for a while. it's been eleven fucking years. can you believe that?&lt;br /&gt;i stood on the ground that covered the remains of a dad i used to have. life is chaos and pretty fucking cruel. i feel better when i think about breathing in particles of all my ancestors. i feel better when i think about that time my dad suggested to my mom that maybe they should keep the baby instead. i feel better when i think of his ruddy complexion and barrel chest and how, if i have a baby boy i will petition all mighty powers within the universe to have him resemble an Anderson man. i feel better knowing that my dad didn't choose to disappear from my life. these things make the 11 years easier, but then i think of the apparent disorder and all the bull shit people tell themselves to get by.&lt;br /&gt;so, i wasn't sad until i started driving away.&lt;br /&gt;and it was the kind of sad that tastes stale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2525556702770069140?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2525556702770069140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-walk-upon-river-like-its-easier-than.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2525556702770069140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2525556702770069140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-walk-upon-river-like-its-easier-than.html' title='i walk upon the river like it&apos;s easier than land'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzdzYteT5vk/TpeZ22zTpSI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/sYQBw8yR7VM/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6273475836167058718</id><published>2011-10-11T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T06:58:42.575-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tequila'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='do it best'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='indianapolis'/><title type='text'>the sound of ancient voices</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5KuwHDkX9p8/TpRGe6ShYVI/AAAAAAAAAqE/ULCLDy5fNBs/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5KuwHDkX9p8/TpRGe6ShYVI/AAAAAAAAAqE/ULCLDy5fNBs/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;starting last friday, i've been in indy. you know this because i've told you before, but in case you can't remember, i work a Do It Best hardware show 2 times a year - October and May. I make pretty good money for a weekend. It does take shit ton out of me. The past two markets I've been selling &lt;a href="http://wordlock.com/"&gt;WordLock&lt;/a&gt; padlocks and I like them. I like being in the lock and door aisle. Seriously. Some good people down that row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband visited this market and we got drunk. Bad idea when you have to work at 7 am to 530 pm, but we don't care - we're young! Just kidding, i really care. I shouldn't have, but i did and now i know to never do that again. but i probably will. We had good tequila and we chased it traditionally with &lt;a href="http://www.ianchadwick.com/tequila/sangrita.htm"&gt;sangrita &lt;/a&gt;and you know what? it was amazing. i just want you to know i could very easily be an alcoholic, i gotta keep these things in check. people shouldn't introduce me to smooth tequila with the best chaser in the world. but now i have to tell you, after we got a little drunk we went to circle center mall. do you know how fun it is to be drunk in a mall? do it at least once in your life. it makes malls SO MUCH more enjoyable. and you accidentally buy clothes that are too small and spend too much money. who cares? (me, again. i do, but i didn't then)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now, i'm home. and i'm happy to be home - i slept in until 930. that's crazy. but like i said, this market really takes a ton out of me. harder than you think, no lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, as a post script, our big home computer is completely dead. thus the lack of updating. blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry this post was so damn boring, i'll do better next time. i have to go pick up my car from henry's now, because yes, i got drunk last night. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6273475836167058718?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6273475836167058718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/sound-of-ancient-voices.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6273475836167058718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6273475836167058718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/sound-of-ancient-voices.html' title='the sound of ancient voices'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5KuwHDkX9p8/TpRGe6ShYVI/AAAAAAAAAqE/ULCLDy5fNBs/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-414461220423382423</id><published>2011-10-01T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T20:19:10.409-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baked goods'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death cab for cutie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autumn'/><title type='text'>this is the sound of settling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCuLQU3tfPI/TofRZ9NyIaI/AAAAAAAAAp8/b3AlEIzZvBE/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCuLQU3tfPI/TofRZ9NyIaI/AAAAAAAAAp8/b3AlEIzZvBE/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;the absolute best part about being sick is the feeling better afterwards. that's a stupid ass thing to say, i know, but i'm saying it anyway. everything is amplified. booze, sunshine, cream cheese frosting, tv, hugs, sex, i mean.. just everything. well - not work.&amp;nbsp; ((zing))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's officially fall - i've made my first autumnal flavored baked good this evening, pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. Yes, they will give your mind a blow job, (excuse my crass language, but it's funny to me tonight. Probably because saying "blow job" is funnier after one has been deathly ill for a while). But I'm not kidding. Here's the &lt;a href="http://thestir.cafemom.com/food_party/125724/pumpkin_cupcakes_with_cinnamon_cream?direct"&gt;recipe&lt;/a&gt;. Make them. Do it. Don't be a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently listening to Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism. You know what, I'm not ashamed. This album is good like breathing is good. I like it, reminds me of college and since i'm so old, it's nice to remember. I saw them in chicago promoting this cd. it was a date with my now husband - and we stood close, and swayed our bodies together and were drunk with noise and people and hot with the crowd. we clapped our hands feverishly at the end, but i kind of think we were applauding one another. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-414461220423382423?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/414461220423382423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is-sound-of-settling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/414461220423382423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/414461220423382423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is-sound-of-settling.html' title='this is the sound of settling'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCuLQU3tfPI/TofRZ9NyIaI/AAAAAAAAAp8/b3AlEIzZvBE/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3764499249619461285</id><published>2011-09-28T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T21:09:29.240-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tea'/><title type='text'>there's a girl in this harbor town, she works laying whiskey down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0SIq7se5e9g/ToPLuLJpoJI/AAAAAAAAAp0/V_itJnzKTy8/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0SIq7se5e9g/ToPLuLJpoJI/AAAAAAAAAp0/V_itJnzKTy8/s320/-1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;maybe one day women can grow babies in our arms and we will not need bleeding cycles that cause cramps like no body's business. actually, the more i think about that, the more i think it probably won't work. arms are too scrawny.whatever. all of this to say, i'm better!!! no more tonsil problems for me - no throat pain. but.. i do have this other thing that will end soon. After tomorrow I will be well. do you hear the universe singing? I WILL BE WELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's this other thing I want to make a point in mentioning: i like tea. lots. in the autumn and winter times, I have a cup of tea a day. it's wonderful and i love it. you know who doesn't love it? my dental hygienist. she gives me the same speech every October when i get in there for my 2nd cleaning of the year. it is always the same, and i most definitely should heed the words she says. i should swish water in my mouth after i'm done and spit that crap out. but i don't. OR she tells me, drink green tea or white tea, they don't stain your teeth like the black tea. well, damn it. i don't like those as much - can you believe i'm still talking about tea? i just can't help it. it's a love affair i can't deny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did you know I had an &lt;a href="http://whammybar.tumblr.com/"&gt;anti-fashion tumblr&lt;/a&gt;? i do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly, there are lots of things to say, I just don't feel like it. maybe i'll feel bloggy mcbloggerson tomorrow. love you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3764499249619461285?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3764499249619461285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/theres-girl-in-this-harbor-town-she.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3764499249619461285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3764499249619461285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/theres-girl-in-this-harbor-town-she.html' title='there&apos;s a girl in this harbor town, she works laying whiskey down'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0SIq7se5e9g/ToPLuLJpoJI/AAAAAAAAAp0/V_itJnzKTy8/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-8703528127277674820</id><published>2011-09-24T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:04:21.664-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eustachian tubes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='banned books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autumn'/><title type='text'>If you need a friend don't look to a stranger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ct9l0Wu4j6E/Tn5AwYm2tkI/AAAAAAAAApo/6_n0PhyFFC8/s1600/long%2Bfoot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ct9l0Wu4j6E/Tn5AwYm2tkI/AAAAAAAAApo/6_n0PhyFFC8/s320/long%2Bfoot.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;today is better, y'all. what i mean to say is, i only have an&lt;a href="http://medicalimages.allrefer.com/large/eustachian-tube.jpg"&gt; ear infection&lt;/a&gt; now - nothing else hurts! yay! i do think that i've completely forgotten what it's like to feel good. it's like, a distant memory you can almost savor, but just...not...quite. it's okay. this happens to carbon based beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the other day i promised a poem. I didn't follow through, but i usually don't. this is reason #546 on a long list of why i'm not sure i should have kids. it's hard for me to keep promises. whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you didn't know: this week is banned books week. let me encourage all of my 2 readers to read a book that offends people - try to read&lt;a href="http://smartcat.acpl.lib.in.us/?q=Tango+makes+three+families"&gt; said book&lt;/a&gt; in front of conservative christians. please. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm jumping around today. Hop scotch blog, but who cares? I'm harboring a Saturday-evening-holds-a-lot-of-potential-so-sue-me attitude. OH, and happy autumn. What a day! shout to the earth let it sing. (some praise and worship in your face). &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-8703528127277674820?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/8703528127277674820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/if-you-need-friend-dont-look-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8703528127277674820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8703528127277674820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/if-you-need-friend-dont-look-to.html' title='If you need a friend don&apos;t look to a stranger'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ct9l0Wu4j6E/Tn5AwYm2tkI/AAAAAAAAApo/6_n0PhyFFC8/s72-c/long%2Bfoot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-8896910033792337583</id><published>2011-09-22T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T13:28:20.754-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunrise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bram stoker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bieber bangs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drainage'/><title type='text'>monopoly, twenty one, checkers and chess</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6_nKQQb0k0/TnuMlWXf8RI/AAAAAAAAApg/mBAfXzehAYM/s1600/Bieber%2Bbangs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6_nKQQb0k0/TnuMlWXf8RI/AAAAAAAAApg/mBAfXzehAYM/s320/Bieber%2Bbangs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I don't want to get all sappy, but this morning - my oh my, the sky was ablaze with "hello, autumn" colors. it's almost summer's last hurrah, she's got to go out with a bang. Or maybe, I just felt good, for once in my life, and the vivid pinks were even more so. But probably not. This morning was so good I wanted to dance in the street while drinking copious amounts of wine and celebrating for health. This, however, was fleeting. about an hour ago, I felt completely depleted of energies. This sickness better get the hell on it's way or I'm going to go insanely crazy and probably fall down flights of stairs on purpose. don't make me do that, universe. you know? god. also, in the throes of sickness, i think i accidentally prayed. how weird. haven't done that for a while. that's a crazy habit to die, except, part of me thinks just verbalizing something makes me feel better. Just ask my friends who put up with my talking talking talking. i want to do something big. maybe after banned books week this year (09/24-10/01) I'll compile a list and read them all. or at least, a good percentage of them.also, can you even believe i haven't written a poem in about a decade? Wait, that's not true. BUT it has been over a month. GOD. I'm writing a poem tonight. and maybe soon i'll declare A POEM A DAY in a month that is NOT April. SHIT is getting crazy.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-8896910033792337583?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/8896910033792337583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/monopoly-twenty-one-checkers-and-chess.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8896910033792337583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8896910033792337583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/monopoly-twenty-one-checkers-and-chess.html' title='monopoly, twenty one, checkers and chess'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6_nKQQb0k0/TnuMlWXf8RI/AAAAAAAAApg/mBAfXzehAYM/s72-c/Bieber%2Bbangs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6019002790062963001</id><published>2011-09-20T12:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T13:37:07.676-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tonsillitis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='navy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laundry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brothers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suicide'/><title type='text'>hey kids, shake a leg</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WcD4jjnJJFA/TnjiAzFgHqI/AAAAAAAAApY/zKw8o7FEQ70/s1600/-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WcD4jjnJJFA/TnjiAzFgHqI/AAAAAAAAApY/zKw8o7FEQ70/s320/-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was going to title this blog post, "The loneliness of the long distant blogger". Yeah, yeah, yeah - i know it's a parody of this&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Loneliness_of_the_Long_Distance_Runner"&gt; book &lt;/a&gt;i read in college - it was a collection of ridiculously sad, melancholy, blow-your-brains-out short stories, but they were good. Super good. I decided against it for 2 reasons: 1. My blog posts are mere idiot words strung together. I would never want to, even subtly, compare my dumb words to Alan Sillitoe. 2. All my blog posts thus far are song lyrics. So, I want consistency in my life - but there you go. These past few days have been less than ideal. My house hold is sick. My life partner has tonsillitis. And since i'm the less sick of the two, i've been doing things like making all food, doing laundry, washing dishes, feeding cats et cetera. I don't mind, really, i don't. i know he'd do the same for me. I just hope he doesn't have to - I hate being the sickest ever. This is boring. I know. Also, I've decided I want to learn about trees. Basically, just to be able to identify them when I'm out and about. I'm pretty good with local birds (I've been a birder since 4th grade), now I want to move to trees. My little red head bestie said she likes that about me, she likes that i like take up new hobbies. I like that she likes that, because i like that, too. I, also, need to tell you - I'm quite aware that my sentences all run together and that there are no paragraphs in my posts - this is not by choice. I don't know how to fix it. I should put an * where I want there to be a new paragraph but that just might be confusing. I don't know. This is a big deal to me. I thought I could get over it, but spaces in between thoughts are a good thing and my biggest character attribute in my posts. but damn it. I don't know. we'll see. My brother saved someone's life this weekend. she tried to kill herself. He sat by her at the hospital all weekend. Held her hand and sang the song of life that she's never heard. He's a good man - full of strength and honey. I love him. One day I will live less than 1 hour away from him. We will be best friends and he will be the best uncle to my kids and he will come over to my house for dinner and to shoot the shit and talk about our dad and play video games with my husband. Until then, he's in the Navy carrying caskets and saving lives, even if it's just listening to a girl talk about her problems after she gets stitched up from cutting her wrists. Did i ever tell you my brother is better than yours? because he is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6019002790062963001?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6019002790062963001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/hey-kids-shake-leg_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6019002790062963001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6019002790062963001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/hey-kids-shake-leg_20.html' title='hey kids, shake a leg'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WcD4jjnJJFA/TnjiAzFgHqI/AAAAAAAAApY/zKw8o7FEQ70/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4898201236283084332</id><published>2011-09-18T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T19:32:12.060-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deathly cold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flim flam man'/><title type='text'>in december drinking horchata</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j7h27baaH6Y/TnaiutqJ7mI/AAAAAAAAApQ/frlOjBiFbLw/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j7h27baaH6Y/TnaiutqJ7mI/AAAAAAAAApQ/frlOjBiFbLw/s320/-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;my body has succumbed to sickness. i was sick friday and i was sick saturday and then i was better today. well, earlier. but not now. it's hit me in the face and my throat is swollen. it's more like, WTH? my household is teeming with germies. i'm sick. sucks. even still, i'm carbon. i'm earthy. i'm an organic host to one trillion and billion living things. and that's pretty awesome. but feeling like i could die is not awesome. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4898201236283084332?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4898201236283084332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-december-drinking-horchata.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4898201236283084332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4898201236283084332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-december-drinking-horchata.html' title='in december drinking horchata'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j7h27baaH6Y/TnaiutqJ7mI/AAAAAAAAApQ/frlOjBiFbLw/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1683203726627720322</id><published>2011-09-15T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:07:13.892-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fort wayne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='earth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autumn'/><title type='text'>with love come strange currencies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmWCJUZmt4k/TnK_5s568DI/AAAAAAAAApI/355y-6NrEJc/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmWCJUZmt4k/TnK_5s568DI/AAAAAAAAApI/355y-6NrEJc/s320/-1.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;the air is light on my skin and these lungs are full with the promise of leaves and tea and hearty soup - this weather makes me feel romantic. build a nest, preen and nestle down for the long haul romantic. In a month, I'll be sad, longing for the sun, but right now, the idea of apocalyptic red leaves mixing in with apple cider makes me want to die an autumnal death. decomposing slowly  in the cold, hard mud, my skin would fall off my bones in a wonderful turn of the earth. we forget we are and come from the earth.in other news, should i get this hat? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1683203726627720322?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1683203726627720322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-love-come-strange-currencies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1683203726627720322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1683203726627720322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/with-love-come-strange-currencies.html' title='with love come strange currencies'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmWCJUZmt4k/TnK_5s568DI/AAAAAAAAApI/355y-6NrEJc/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-7050708211318403992</id><published>2011-09-07T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T16:05:52.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's these little things, they can pull you under</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsvi7xODuUg/Tmfz5Kq5vhI/AAAAAAAAAo4/jZkwLJZ3Edg/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsvi7xODuUg/Tmfz5Kq5vhI/AAAAAAAAAo4/jZkwLJZ3Edg/s320/-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;today reminds me that coldness is coming. somehow i forget, in the dead-heat of summer i forget, that winter really is always just a few weeks away. never forget, as they say. my body is all, "remember when humans had to actually survive the cold? shouldn't we be eating? shouldn't we be fluffing the nest and ripping things apart to create a warm bed and shouldn't we be eating and storing up our fats??!" When my body talks to me, it gets kind of demanding, but I get it, I understand. It's weird the instinctual things we hold on to. maybe. or wonderful. probably weirdly wonderful. I have to tell the cyber-space some things: first, I watched Cruel Intentions for the first time this weekend - that led to a series of great events: i downloaded Counting Crows The Desert Life. Then, R.E.M.'s Automatic for the People (that has nothing to do with Cruel Intentions and Sarah MIchelle Gellar's beautiful body, but it's just good) and then Counting Crow's August and Everything After. second, I've been listening to these albums along with Siamese Dream like it's been my job. Guess what? I wish it was my job. I'd be good at it and less stressed. I had a difficult time breathing today during our librarians' meeting. It's getting bad. I try to remember that honestly, I'm just carbon - and it's all good. But assholes make it hard to breathe and focus on wonderful things. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-7050708211318403992?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/7050708211318403992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-these-little-things-they-can-pull.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7050708211318403992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7050708211318403992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-these-little-things-they-can-pull.html' title='it&apos;s these little things, they can pull you under'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fsvi7xODuUg/Tmfz5Kq5vhI/AAAAAAAAAo4/jZkwLJZ3Edg/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6536586020504415759</id><published>2011-09-04T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T10:34:20.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm in love with you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zAsruWrJvwo/TmOyEVBM39I/AAAAAAAAAnk/LFqeNkLDDTc/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zAsruWrJvwo/TmOyEVBM39I/AAAAAAAAAnk/LFqeNkLDDTc/s320/-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;the way life moves is weird. I suppose I used to think it was linear. This happens, you turn 16, wait for 18, then the next thing happens and next thing you know, you're having babies and driving a straight road into old-age. I was wrong. But what the hell? you know? It's better this way. Science proves that. I mean, real science. Things float around in the middle of clouds and wait for the opportunity to fall down. One day you are alone the very next you're in the middle of a mediocre life that includes 801 peripheral friendships. That's not a positive linear progression. And it's not supposed to be. I guess what I mean is, life jumps around in the most insane, beautiful ways. I think of Dr. Jones trying to teach me about scattergraphs, but the only thing I can think about those is: that's just my life. in other news: i need a haircut. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6536586020504415759?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6536586020504415759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-in-love-with-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6536586020504415759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6536586020504415759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-in-love-with-you.html' title='i&apos;m in love with you'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zAsruWrJvwo/TmOyEVBM39I/AAAAAAAAAnk/LFqeNkLDDTc/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3024681277291326547</id><published>2011-08-25T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T12:23:47.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i play along with this charade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-meN4tVaTldA/Tlad54guJXI/AAAAAAAAAnc/KWh2VwrTY6w/s1600/photo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-meN4tVaTldA/Tlad54guJXI/AAAAAAAAAnc/KWh2VwrTY6w/s320/photo.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644872800703227250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, i want to be anything but what i am. &lt;br /&gt;be anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's been a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i nearly got hit on the road and things at work&lt;br /&gt;and blah and blah blah blah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd be a good bartender. &lt;br /&gt;i would be. good. likable. relates well with others. et cetera et cetera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just need more sleep - maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3024681277291326547?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3024681277291326547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-play-along-with-this-charade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3024681277291326547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3024681277291326547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-play-along-with-this-charade.html' title='i play along with this charade'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-meN4tVaTldA/Tlad54guJXI/AAAAAAAAAnc/KWh2VwrTY6w/s72-c/photo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6170914043155819350</id><published>2011-08-18T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T19:23:52.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i think i need a bottle tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b-O5_yfLzpA/Tk3GKAQHyHI/AAAAAAAAAnU/VhXLL2dO8ZY/s1600/-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b-O5_yfLzpA/Tk3GKAQHyHI/AAAAAAAAAnU/VhXLL2dO8ZY/s320/-8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642383783333709938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a lot of things to say. really, i do.&lt;br /&gt;i just don't know how to say them. i can be vague, though. &lt;br /&gt;so here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;i am pathetic. &lt;br /&gt;that's something i can say without being too vulnerable. &lt;br /&gt;but a different kind of pathetic. NOT like the man who made me feel uncomfortable by staring at me while he drove slowly past me blaring smooth jazz. not like that. &lt;br /&gt;a different kind.&lt;br /&gt;that's okay, i guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's even more saddening is: &lt;br /&gt;i can't get over it. &lt;br /&gt;i can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6170914043155819350?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6170914043155819350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-think-i-need-bottle-tonight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6170914043155819350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6170914043155819350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-think-i-need-bottle-tonight.html' title='i think i need a bottle tonight'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b-O5_yfLzpA/Tk3GKAQHyHI/AAAAAAAAAnU/VhXLL2dO8ZY/s72-c/-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-538388132487040112</id><published>2011-08-15T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T06:53:59.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>come down from the mountain, you have been gone too long</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A0v9FlOEGpE/Tkm-jVjH6LI/AAAAAAAAAnA/WH9fUO_aHLo/s1600/-7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A0v9FlOEGpE/Tkm-jVjH6LI/AAAAAAAAAnA/WH9fUO_aHLo/s320/-7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641249522547419314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't tell a lot of people, but my husband and i took an impromptu trip to the lake this weekend. &lt;br /&gt;well, it was impromptu for us. &lt;br /&gt;we only had it planned for three weeks. what can i say? i like to plan. &lt;br /&gt;but enough of my flaws, let me tell you - the more i think about life and what it means (wait, i'm not sure i *really* do that, but it sounds good) and what it's all about, the more i'm just unsure about so many things. &lt;br /&gt;the point of it all is? &lt;br /&gt;right? and your puent is?  (that's an inside joke. sorry to all of you who don't get it). &lt;br /&gt;for starters, do i really want to be a stationary kind of person? those mountains and that water make me feel like i don't. &lt;br /&gt;but i do. i have friends having babies. &lt;br /&gt;and that's important to me, to have roots. to think about baby oliver wanting me to hold him. taking him out and about and being an influence - a real one - on this little human who encompasses sweetness is colossal. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xW3nQkqBs3U/TknCKBarSTI/AAAAAAAAAnI/6xPGXfF87uo/s1600/-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xW3nQkqBs3U/TknCKBarSTI/AAAAAAAAAnI/6xPGXfF87uo/s320/-6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641253485693061426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all of this doesn't make sense, i know. but i'm in perpetual upheaval. i feel crazy all the time, second guessing everything. &lt;br /&gt;i mostly mean "everything" but not always. &lt;br /&gt;i think i'm suffering from some late 20-something disease.  &lt;br /&gt;i don't know when i'm supposed to figure all this stuff out, it seems like i should be settled. a few things are settled. i feel loved, and that's important. &lt;br /&gt;not a lot of people have that. so, i'm ahead in that respect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay. let me just be calm about a few things: &lt;br /&gt;1. there's a baby in my life and even though he isn't mine, i'd go to war for his little face. &lt;br /&gt;2. the mountains live in my blood&lt;br /&gt;3. i, simultaneously, want to be here and there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-538388132487040112?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/538388132487040112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/come-down-from-mountain-you-have-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/538388132487040112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/538388132487040112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/come-down-from-mountain-you-have-been.html' title='come down from the mountain, you have been gone too long'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A0v9FlOEGpE/Tkm-jVjH6LI/AAAAAAAAAnA/WH9fUO_aHLo/s72-c/-7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-9016671888966594700</id><published>2011-08-11T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:07:26.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ghetto university</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BYiHz70lEo4/TkSfVoVUL6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/NlDsO6ATaSg/s1600/-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639807827327594402" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BYiHz70lEo4/TkSfVoVUL6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/NlDsO6ATaSg/s320/-5.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't even get me started about tiny humans. &lt;br /&gt;oh my fucking god. i mean, seriously can you believe that noses and skin and bones start out so damn small? &lt;br /&gt;and perfect? &lt;br /&gt;don't even go there. &lt;br /&gt;i mean, the nose on this little guy just is the best damn nose i've seen since 1998. &lt;br /&gt;let's think about how 10 months ago this baby wasn't even started. humans only take 9 months to make. and then, like little aliens, grow up inside another human, eat that other human's nutrients and use that other human's body as an incubator. i mean, THIS IS CRAZY. and when that baby is born, it pops out surrounded in so much love before he even knows that this world is big. surrounded by so much love before he even understands that this world can be poison. surrounded by so much love before he even understands that he has LIMBS! Crazy brain, crazy human, crazy love. it's all so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my best friend had a baby. &lt;br /&gt;and i'm not sure i've ever been more proud in my adult life. &lt;br /&gt;the whole procreation thing is honestly mind blowing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did i mention how perfect he is? how his skin covers his bones and blood and muscles just like it should? did i mention that his chin is the dumbest, most amazing thing i've ever seen? did i mention that i love this little baby and he doesn't even have a favorite color yet. he hasn't even seen my face, but he can rest in the fact that i will love him always. i will beat the shit out of anyone who hurts him and i will be the person who gets it when he's troubled. and when he needs to break some laws, i'm the aunt to go to... and when he needs to talk about love and sex, i'm there. i'm excited. i'm excited to see this human grow up and be a .. well, a human. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh lord. &lt;br /&gt;the day he was born, sun warmed my shoulders and the sky was shouting something like "hosanna in the highest". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my little prince was born. my little prince is a combination of two of my favorite people. how can he not have all my love? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;omg. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-9016671888966594700?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/9016671888966594700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/ghetto-university.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/9016671888966594700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/9016671888966594700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/ghetto-university.html' title='ghetto university'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BYiHz70lEo4/TkSfVoVUL6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/NlDsO6ATaSg/s72-c/-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5096204102268951984</id><published>2011-08-01T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T18:13:56.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>with your suede blue eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9sVPKOC8-_k/TjdK5xFTKCI/AAAAAAAAAmg/zaUQwZZCTww/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9sVPKOC8-_k/TjdK5xFTKCI/AAAAAAAAAmg/zaUQwZZCTww/s320/-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636055814966028322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i had my way, i'd get my masters in popular culture. with that said, i don't have to say how big of a fan i am of tv. not just any tv, though, so, please, don't make that mistake. though i'm easily entertained, i am a choosey watcher. i am, really. i will quit a show once i smell a turn for the worse. i will. just ask &lt;a href="http://www.billboard.com/photos/artist/1131447-glee-cast.jpg"&gt;Glee&lt;/a&gt; . i quit that bitch about 3 episodes after i decided it was bad. i gave it 3 chances to redeem itself, then, after that, i cut ties. i don't feel badly about it. my time is precious, quite honestly, and if you are going to bore me with repetitive story lines and inconsistent character development, i'm out. &lt;br /&gt;let me tell you - some shows are good. down right good to the morrow of it's bones - cohesive characters, arc story lines that are interesting and believable, amazing stand alone episodes that increase the believability of the show -- just, some shows get it so right that the shows that get it wrong should be so fucking embarrassed. (pardon my cussing, i'm just really serious about this). tv is an art. scratch that, tv CAN be an art. i can be the first to discriminate against bad tv. i'm talking to you, &lt;a href="http://www.nataliedee.com/073106/totally-gross.jpg"&gt;Big Brother and The Bachelor&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to recommend three shows to you, reader. and i mean it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avatar: The last airbender - TV series. NOT THE MOVIE, never the movie&lt;br /&gt;The X-Files seasons 1-7 (selected episodes from 8 and 9). &lt;br /&gt;Buffy: The Vampire Slayer (muscle through the bad effects of season 1 and *just* get through season 4 - both "bad" things mentioned will help you one way or another, love the characters more. seriously)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you loved me, you'd watch these. Get &lt;a href="http://ecigarettetimes.com/wp-content/uploads/cache/508_NpAdvHover.jpg"&gt;netflix&lt;/a&gt; and just start. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, give me money to go to school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5096204102268951984?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5096204102268951984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/with-your-suede-blue-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5096204102268951984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5096204102268951984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/08/with-your-suede-blue-eyes.html' title='with your suede blue eyes'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9sVPKOC8-_k/TjdK5xFTKCI/AAAAAAAAAmg/zaUQwZZCTww/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3277142169883249610</id><published>2011-07-31T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T16:11:14.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LxfuRx35ovs/TjXcTwyMu7I/AAAAAAAAAmY/lXsD38GTi2w/s1600/-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LxfuRx35ovs/TjXcTwyMu7I/AAAAAAAAAmY/lXsD38GTi2w/s320/-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635652740795120562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a friend who is newly in love. isn't that nice? it really is. every time we see each other, she reminds me, "i'm in love, you know?" and i always remind her that i'm so excited for her. she likes him AND she loves him. that's fabulous. she thinks that when he posts pictures of&lt;a href="http://www.ibtimes.com/articles/181666/20110717/planking-still-a-popular-facebook-fad-sensation-owling-sensation-lying-down-game-plank-canadian-come.htm"&gt; planking&lt;/a&gt;, it's funny. and she'll show me photos of him on his facebook page and swoon over how handsome he is. and she's happy when she says his name. it's great. it's nice to have a friend newly in love. &lt;br /&gt;in the scheme of things, i'm newly in love, too. 8 years, really, is a blink of an eye. &lt;br /&gt;i'm a lucky girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i really would like something cold to eat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3277142169883249610?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3277142169883249610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/tell-me-dear-are-you-lonesome-tonight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3277142169883249610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3277142169883249610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/tell-me-dear-are-you-lonesome-tonight.html' title='tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LxfuRx35ovs/TjXcTwyMu7I/AAAAAAAAAmY/lXsD38GTi2w/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5087514152208495223</id><published>2011-07-27T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:54:08.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>still don't know what i was waiting for</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FQJR8SCT3VM/TjAfVQJ6nDI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/uJ0iPnYEzKk/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FQJR8SCT3VM/TjAfVQJ6nDI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/uJ0iPnYEzKk/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634037583814761522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to start keeping a food journal. &lt;br /&gt;but i want to do it for the right reason.&lt;br /&gt;not because i'm some freak - &lt;br /&gt;but i am a freak about this thing. &lt;br /&gt;maybe it'll help, that's what i've been thinking. &lt;br /&gt;probably it will help. but i should probably start on a day when i don't eat french toast and back for breakfast?&lt;br /&gt;i don't know. maybe i should start writing again. &lt;br /&gt;maybe i should try to find a Rupert Giles for my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't even know how to start. &lt;br /&gt;i should probably just watch Buffy on netflix and kitten videos on the internets. &lt;br /&gt;maybe i should skip work today to do those things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5087514152208495223?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5087514152208495223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/still-dont-know-what-i-was-waiting-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5087514152208495223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5087514152208495223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/still-dont-know-what-i-was-waiting-for.html' title='still don&apos;t know what i was waiting for'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FQJR8SCT3VM/TjAfVQJ6nDI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/uJ0iPnYEzKk/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4548431068186011962</id><published>2011-07-24T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T18:30:48.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bottom of the bottle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xg4X-7KzIk/TizFSOXG7WI/AAAAAAAAAmI/IiSc65zSTX8/s1600/-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xg4X-7KzIk/TizFSOXG7WI/AAAAAAAAAmI/IiSc65zSTX8/s320/-9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633094150816984418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please let me tell you about how well my friends know me. &lt;br /&gt;this is a little collage of birthday gifts received: &lt;br /&gt;UV protection for blonde hair!!! Did you know I have a real problem called hairexia? I do. &lt;br /&gt;The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry!!! &lt;br /&gt;Bright finger nail polish!!&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VQpW3YWt1sk/TUt2UePZWgI/AAAAAAAACOo/A5MsTeEpFyc/s320/021.JPG"&gt;OPI (!!) Shatter polish&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;I mean, talk about hitting the nail on the head. Also for birthday gifts I received American Eagle money (!!), 3 little writing journals, a book with poetry prompts, a bottle of whiskey, two adorable little bottles of fancy alcohol, a cute pink bird to hold all my paper clips, a red winged black bird key chain, a X-files book and lots and lots of love. I think I must either be a) super open and vulnerable about my life b) *really really* easy to buy for or c) a combination of those two things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i want this blog post to be a little braggy. because honestly, i do have the best friends. and not only because they buy me things, but mostly because they know how to buy for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4548431068186011962?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4548431068186011962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/bottom-of-bottle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4548431068186011962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4548431068186011962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/bottom-of-bottle.html' title='bottom of the bottle'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xg4X-7KzIk/TizFSOXG7WI/AAAAAAAAAmI/IiSc65zSTX8/s72-c/-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-222519675047916807</id><published>2011-07-23T10:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T10:58:06.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm not the man they think i am at all</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ANyKwYmPZZE/TisIo78ZX_I/AAAAAAAAAmA/WeF6fRcls94/s1600/.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ANyKwYmPZZE/TisIo78ZX_I/AAAAAAAAAmA/WeF6fRcls94/s320/.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632605258335739890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I've said it before and quite honestly, I'll say it ten thousand times before death becomes me, Tennessee lives in my bones. All in all, I'm just an ol' girl from a hollow. I try to function properly away from the mountains and away from the water, but I'm failing miserably. I don't belong here.&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to be somewhere else. Somewhere not here - somewhere tucked away in the middle of nowhere. &lt;br /&gt;I envy the people who up and move. &lt;br /&gt;Just down right jealous. I want my skin to fall off in southern dirt - and my bones to be eternally red from the clay they absorb. When I'm sad, I want to be sad with cicadas and katydids and tall, flaky cedars. &lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still swaying from spending a week on the lake. It was fabulous. &lt;br /&gt;I'm jealous of the week I just had. I want to go back to there. I want to do my birthday all over and get just as drunk. I want to get mad at my brother, throw down my biscuits and gravy and yell at him all over again because hugging after a fight like that is so sweet. This past week rocked my face off my skull. I miss it already, like I miss a lover who just moved away to bigger and better and prettier. &lt;br /&gt;Vacations cause voids. I'm going to say vacations are void-ish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-222519675047916807?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/222519675047916807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-not-man-they-think-i-am-at-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/222519675047916807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/222519675047916807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-not-man-they-think-i-am-at-all.html' title='i&apos;m not the man they think i am at all'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ANyKwYmPZZE/TisIo78ZX_I/AAAAAAAAAmA/WeF6fRcls94/s72-c/.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6377232799475087855</id><published>2011-07-04T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T18:01:45.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>good morning, 'merica, how are ya'?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdIlyIYTJkg/ThJgLnGjPPI/AAAAAAAAAl4/DUFeseWiefQ/s1600/-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdIlyIYTJkg/ThJgLnGjPPI/AAAAAAAAAl4/DUFeseWiefQ/s320/-8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625664637130456306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to look more like the person i know. summer does that to me. brings out my real skin tone, let's my hair do what it wants -you know. and when i'm near the water, my body feels weirdly at ease. it doesn't make sense. it might have something to do with my gray eyes and the ancient water that's kin to my blood. maybe. &lt;br /&gt;i should live near water. &lt;br /&gt;it's just too damn bad that i'll never be able to afford it. &lt;br /&gt;enough of that.&lt;br /&gt;let me tell you, husband and i went to &lt;a href="http://www.michigan.org/city/Default.aspx?city=G3516"&gt;St. Joe, Michigan&lt;/a&gt; yesterday for a wedding. i basically am in love. &lt;br /&gt;we stayed in a motel about 15 minutes away from the beach. 15 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;did i ever tell you that for 3 whole years i commuted 26 miles (about 35 minutes) one way to work everyday? 15 minutes seems like child's play. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fireworks in the background remind me to tell my readers "happy independence day". i will also add, don't go chasing waterfalls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6377232799475087855?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6377232799475087855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/good-morning-merica-how-are-ya.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6377232799475087855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6377232799475087855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/good-morning-merica-how-are-ya.html' title='good morning, &apos;merica, how are ya&apos;?'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdIlyIYTJkg/ThJgLnGjPPI/AAAAAAAAAl4/DUFeseWiefQ/s72-c/-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3025344809972000281</id><published>2011-07-02T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-02T17:41:55.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i will remember you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IOFl7dAH9JA/Tg-3cXNZ-oI/AAAAAAAAAlo/cLmiyrQP-Jw/s1600/-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IOFl7dAH9JA/Tg-3cXNZ-oI/AAAAAAAAAlo/cLmiyrQP-Jw/s320/-6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624916157503502978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your memory rests heavy on me today. i feel you on my skin. &lt;br /&gt;i think i'm real fucked up, drinking to remember what it's like to feel, listening to ballads from my childhood. i like to remember. i like what i am when i remember. i'm little. and happy and sticky with summer sweat and dirty feet and poison ivy and a sun burned nose. &lt;br /&gt;you loved me like no one can. &lt;br /&gt;i loved you uniquely, too, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i want to say, i say everytime i write a poem. &lt;br /&gt;but here it is again,&lt;br /&gt;i don't believe everything happens for a reason. &lt;br /&gt;i believe that your death was just another way for chaos to live in my blood. &lt;br /&gt;but that i believe chaos is part of it. &lt;br /&gt;you were part of it and we loved hard for a few years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, after years, i wish you were next to me. &lt;br /&gt;people talk about their dads, and they don't get it. &lt;br /&gt;they don't get what it's like living without - i get it. &lt;br /&gt;and i fucking hate it. more and more everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3025344809972000281?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3025344809972000281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-will-remember-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3025344809972000281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3025344809972000281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-will-remember-you.html' title='i will remember you'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IOFl7dAH9JA/Tg-3cXNZ-oI/AAAAAAAAAlo/cLmiyrQP-Jw/s72-c/-6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5677369022556150716</id><published>2011-06-30T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T09:56:49.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when love is wilder than the wind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fuI9QTzuSyU/TgypCYt_zAI/AAAAAAAAAlg/AfKQrWKqZD4/s1600/me%2Band%2Bhub"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fuI9QTzuSyU/TgypCYt_zAI/AAAAAAAAAlg/AfKQrWKqZD4/s320/me%2Band%2Bhub" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624055893139115010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes we hurt people. &lt;br /&gt;mostly we don't mean to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm probably the most selfish person i know. &lt;br /&gt;somewhere along the lines, i've stopped thinking about other people before myself. &lt;br /&gt;i don't remember when that switched happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but here i am, today, declaring that all that bullshit stops now. &lt;br /&gt;it's gonna be me and him against the world, if we have to (though we hope not). it's gonna be me and him making this life better in whatever way we can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we'll start off tonight with taking a long evening hike. &lt;br /&gt;perhaps, we'll talk about the next two years and what that means for us and what they hold for us and who might be coming along with us. &lt;br /&gt;the thing is, &lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm happy about so many things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5677369022556150716?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5677369022556150716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-love-is-wilder-than-wind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5677369022556150716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5677369022556150716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-love-is-wilder-than-wind.html' title='when love is wilder than the wind'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fuI9QTzuSyU/TgypCYt_zAI/AAAAAAAAAlg/AfKQrWKqZD4/s72-c/me%2Band%2Bhub' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6372671162719417557</id><published>2011-06-27T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T07:36:43.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>is this love that i'm feeling?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_NOFUYzfxi4/TgiRGuBDQiI/AAAAAAAAAlY/eW2n_0zjBpY/s1600/-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_NOFUYzfxi4/TgiRGuBDQiI/AAAAAAAAAlY/eW2n_0zjBpY/s320/-5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622903679389745698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i haven't felt stable in months. &lt;br /&gt;it's probably more like "years". so, let me re-phrase, "i haven't felt stable in years". &lt;br /&gt;now that that's established, it goes without saying that every decision i've made in these years has been made with an unsound mind. seems a little crazy. or a lot crazy. &lt;br /&gt;i need to find something that makes me feel like a person. a real life person and not a dumb idiot. &lt;br /&gt;i need to be good at it. &lt;br /&gt;it needs to cost no moneys. &lt;br /&gt;it needs to hurry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6372671162719417557?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6372671162719417557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/is-this-love-that-im-feeling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6372671162719417557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6372671162719417557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/is-this-love-that-im-feeling.html' title='is this love that i&apos;m feeling?'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_NOFUYzfxi4/TgiRGuBDQiI/AAAAAAAAAlY/eW2n_0zjBpY/s72-c/-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1623452682315291376</id><published>2011-06-24T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T22:27:28.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm so tired i can't sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NeN0Rpy9Kiw/TgVrtCjzfDI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/8GmjrNylrcc/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NeN0Rpy9Kiw/TgVrtCjzfDI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/8GmjrNylrcc/s320/-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622018131367263282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm lonely. &lt;br /&gt;and tired. &lt;br /&gt;and uncomfortable. &lt;br /&gt;i want someone to buy me coffee. &lt;br /&gt;or want to hang out with me. &lt;br /&gt;or reciprocate conversations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so much i don't understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1623452682315291376?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1623452682315291376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-so-tired-i-cant-sleep.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1623452682315291376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1623452682315291376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-so-tired-i-cant-sleep.html' title='i&apos;m so tired i can&apos;t sleep'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NeN0Rpy9Kiw/TgVrtCjzfDI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/8GmjrNylrcc/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-8575742013788279882</id><published>2011-06-22T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T20:56:13.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i told you to be kind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yEmk43eq0lk/TgK0Rpt6s_I/AAAAAAAAAlI/fK-bqu2Mmo8/s1600/-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yEmk43eq0lk/TgK0Rpt6s_I/AAAAAAAAAlI/fK-bqu2Mmo8/s320/-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621253500261020658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; i have a restless heart right now. i have a healing tattoo right now. i have voids in my life and lots of dirty clothes. i occasionally have serious chest pains, i have unfathomable doubts about myself and really bad skin. i have two cats, one who loves me like i'm the only human on earth. that's a nice thing to have. &lt;br /&gt;i have feet that are spreading with age, i have tits that aren't. i have a sky, and some ground and some blood. &lt;br /&gt;i have friends who are moving on, i have some friends who aren't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i'm not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-8575742013788279882?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/8575742013788279882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-told-you-to-be-kind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8575742013788279882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/8575742013788279882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-told-you-to-be-kind.html' title='i told you to be kind'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yEmk43eq0lk/TgK0Rpt6s_I/AAAAAAAAAlI/fK-bqu2Mmo8/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-7949564014311600465</id><published>2011-06-20T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T19:55:45.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the good earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lxhy2kGIp7k/TgACrfDxUYI/AAAAAAAAAlA/Vc8qrc0VvKw/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lxhy2kGIp7k/TgACrfDxUYI/AAAAAAAAAlA/Vc8qrc0VvKw/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620495281053323650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me tell you something, i like the scars on my face. i do. i suffered with extreme, adult on-set acne my sophomore year in college. i cried every day, or about every day. i wasn't vain, it was just so bad. mostly, too, the big bulbous pimples would ache, some of them were purple and broke like glass when they popped. it was awful. my dermatologist and i tried everything. finally, i was put on &lt;a href="http://www.davidyoon.com/blog/photodiary/02-23-2004-mod/PICT0007.JPG"&gt;acutane&lt;/a&gt;. it took a while, but it helped. but honestly, i cried every day. but now, i don't cry everyday. i do have scars on my face every single moment of my life, reminding me that, yes, in fact, I was a victim of acne. &lt;br /&gt;i actually hate the scars on my face. I know about 6 sentences up i said i liked them. but i don't really. i suppose i like what they aren't. &lt;br /&gt;skin is weird. &lt;br /&gt;everything about it. it's size and weight and shape and the varying cells and the ailments and the healing factor and the pores and sweat glands and hair. just so weird. it's teeming with life.this beautiful protective casing. i love it. i love that i came from the dirt. &lt;br /&gt;and that my husband, sitting next to me, came from dirt. and together, we're weirdly functioning carbon piles full of ancient atoms. walking and communicating with oddly sounding utterances, and being. just existing. going and doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-7949564014311600465?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/7949564014311600465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/good-earth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7949564014311600465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7949564014311600465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/good-earth.html' title='the good earth'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lxhy2kGIp7k/TgACrfDxUYI/AAAAAAAAAlA/Vc8qrc0VvKw/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1565138104471749544</id><published>2011-06-19T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:06:56.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not the same without you around</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaQYcz_VbKY/Tf61ZcYP2xI/AAAAAAAAAk4/Fvwh9cX1SiQ/s1600/-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620128833724209938" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaQYcz_VbKY/Tf61ZcYP2xI/AAAAAAAAAk4/Fvwh9cX1SiQ/s320/-4.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to have a dad. i was a teenager when he died. i wasn't even a real person. never had a beer with him, never asked him questions about life or boys or cars or building cabinets or how he made his roses so amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after 11 years, it's still bullshit. &lt;br /&gt;but he was a man before dust and dust before a man. i love that we loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1565138104471749544?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1565138104471749544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-not-same-without-you-around.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1565138104471749544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1565138104471749544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-not-same-without-you-around.html' title='it&apos;s not the same without you around'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AaQYcz_VbKY/Tf61ZcYP2xI/AAAAAAAAAk4/Fvwh9cX1SiQ/s72-c/-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4841299584985054092</id><published>2011-06-17T05:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T06:10:40.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slave to my artistry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8z2NnmjHbw/TftSSdMMeXI/AAAAAAAAAkw/k4BUQj3skcU/s1600/Photo%2B652.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8z2NnmjHbw/TftSSdMMeXI/AAAAAAAAAkw/k4BUQj3skcU/s320/Photo%2B652.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619175437101726066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me tell you about my family. &lt;br /&gt;like all of us, i have two sides to it. my mom's side is from England. all of it. i have some native american heritage, too, after the english came over. my dad's side is crazy. we have polish, swedish and norwegian. german, too, maybe. for some reason, i've always associated my self with the Scandinavian roots. it could be my name. i mean, my name doesn't get more scandinavian. maybe it's my build. (let me echo, my build doesn't get more scandinavian). it doesn't matter why, but i've always felt like a viking. &lt;br /&gt;two months ago i decided to honor that with a sweet ass tattoo. had my consultation in april, and last night, got it. the initial plan was to have a viking long boat fighting the ocean. that fell through. even though i line myself up with that tier of my ancestry, i can't have a VIKING longboat on my body forever. honestly. there was lots of raping, lots of killing - that's not my style. &lt;br /&gt;so, my very swedish grandmother had a tea pot. a gorgeous teapot. and so, that's battling the waves of immigration. all together, i'm showing my lust for the ocean and my roots and the big journey. nick fabini, the tattoo artist, is amazing. amazing. amazing. i recommend him to everyone i know. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Blr_w6uxBss/TftQqvIXPwI/AAAAAAAAAko/4J-ZoMIvHNk/s1600/Photo%2B654.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Blr_w6uxBss/TftQqvIXPwI/AAAAAAAAAko/4J-ZoMIvHNk/s320/Photo%2B654.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619173655211097858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm excited. and nervous. and i love it. &lt;br /&gt;my grandfather, the Anderson, the person who has influenced me from the get go, well, he's going to hate it. but, i basically did it to honor him, his parents and our history. &lt;br /&gt;all that to say, omg, i love this tattoo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;boring post, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4841299584985054092?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4841299584985054092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/slave-to-my-artistry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4841299584985054092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4841299584985054092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/slave-to-my-artistry.html' title='Slave to my artistry'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8z2NnmjHbw/TftSSdMMeXI/AAAAAAAAAkw/k4BUQj3skcU/s72-c/Photo%2B652.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5713156933991402184</id><published>2011-06-13T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T18:09:12.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be fine once I get it; I'll be good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3P_ZK85l8uc/TfatLBXpEZI/AAAAAAAAAkY/GwnQH_Jg7Qk/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3P_ZK85l8uc/TfatLBXpEZI/AAAAAAAAAkY/GwnQH_Jg7Qk/s320/-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617867990049034642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes after a few days of meeting someone you know. You know it's going to be a good thing. &lt;br /&gt;Then after 7 months, it's affirmed: it is a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5713156933991402184?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5713156933991402184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/ill-be-fine-once-i-get-it-ill-be-good.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5713156933991402184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5713156933991402184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/ill-be-fine-once-i-get-it-ill-be-good.html' title='I&apos;ll be fine once I get it; I&apos;ll be good'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3P_ZK85l8uc/TfatLBXpEZI/AAAAAAAAAkY/GwnQH_Jg7Qk/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-7041385087367715425</id><published>2011-06-10T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T21:20:26.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm one of the lucky ones</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSPHyBC4haM/TfLqlsBk5lI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/vocVZc-2XOs/s1600/-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSPHyBC4haM/TfLqlsBk5lI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/vocVZc-2XOs/s400/-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616809618478261842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am. Really. This guy is low drama, low key and wonderful. He may have obscure tastes in music and he may be way too smart for me, but he chose me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;One spring day, we both got a little dressed up and decided we should promise, in front of family and buds, that we'll love each other even when we're pissed. &lt;br /&gt;so far, it's been an amazing promise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention, he's been on Dean's List every semester since going back to school?&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention, even though we're broke, we both work hard for our tiny family?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-7041385087367715425?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/7041385087367715425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-one-of-lucky-ones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7041385087367715425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7041385087367715425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-one-of-lucky-ones.html' title='I&apos;m one of the lucky ones'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSPHyBC4haM/TfLqlsBk5lI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/vocVZc-2XOs/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2470062638406902</id><published>2011-06-09T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T20:46:59.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>plentiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nCcYo-cdQ-M/TfGQrbywjHI/AAAAAAAAAkI/oigjjMgo934/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nCcYo-cdQ-M/TfGQrbywjHI/AAAAAAAAAkI/oigjjMgo934/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616429286177148018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was good. &lt;br /&gt;On days when everything smells sweetly fresh, it almost makes a person forget about the pain. &lt;br /&gt;Soon, nearly everything will be different. By September, my life will be vastly different and I'm not sure I like it. &lt;br /&gt;I can't think about my life. I need a new gig, something long term and stable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my husband said, "it's difficult to think about the rest of our lives." Except it wasn't difficult to decide on him. Why can't everything be so solid? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not good at anything, really. Nothing that means anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least today was content. The air was sweet with copious amounts of life and hope and I had my favorite person in the world with me. That's always something fabulous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2470062638406902?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2470062638406902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/plentiful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2470062638406902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2470062638406902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/plentiful.html' title='plentiful'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nCcYo-cdQ-M/TfGQrbywjHI/AAAAAAAAAkI/oigjjMgo934/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6153652002715813903</id><published>2011-06-07T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T08:12:31.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>everyone knows where you go when the sun goes down</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eN9oVrGZ73k/Te49jRpxQTI/AAAAAAAAAkA/p9eIngwUbOU/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eN9oVrGZ73k/Te49jRpxQTI/AAAAAAAAAkA/p9eIngwUbOU/s400/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615493461620900146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a busy person. I don't mean that as an excuse, but I can barely hold that ass up. I'm sleepy. And broke. That's okay. I live a luxurious lifestyle. I mean, Luxurious in that I'm comfortable, not the elegant kind. I'm too awesome to be elegant. You know, I fart a lot and also, cuss a lot and also, eat too much pizza. &lt;br /&gt;The heat is overtaking my life, too. Traveling and heat. Neither which is a bad thing. I like them both, really. I might complain in a few days, but now, I just want to soak it all in. &lt;br /&gt;Since I last thought about it, I haven't figured out what I want to do with my life. I think that's okay. &lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm okay. &lt;br /&gt;We'll see how long that lasts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Charlie Guiteau done shot down a good man low"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6153652002715813903?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6153652002715813903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/everyone-knows-where-you-go-when-sun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6153652002715813903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6153652002715813903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/06/everyone-knows-where-you-go-when-sun.html' title='everyone knows where you go when the sun goes down'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eN9oVrGZ73k/Te49jRpxQTI/AAAAAAAAAkA/p9eIngwUbOU/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4551961677829899181</id><published>2011-05-30T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T20:21:07.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my sign would say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YyNxylN59e0/TeRcToN0TcI/AAAAAAAAAj0/C1MYb0fMjME/s1600/-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YyNxylN59e0/TeRcToN0TcI/AAAAAAAAAj0/C1MYb0fMjME/s320/-9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612712527893122498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..."I hold grudges." And maybe if I had space I'd add, "for a really long time." This is partly what made me such a bad christian. I always had a serious amount of guilt for walking around hating people who did wrong towards me. &lt;br /&gt;Quick Story: At the end of my sophomore year in college, someone really hurt my best friend's feelings. It was a terrible mess for her, terrible. Instinctively, I started hating the wrong doer, because this is what friends are supposed to do, and I was amazing at it. Things are fine between my best friend and this person now. But not with me. I don't like her now and I probably won't ever like her. Here's the catch, though, usually, if I know and love you, it takes a whole hell of a lot to push me into grudge mode. When I love people, I love them hard and usually grudges come forth when an individual hurts one of the people I consider my heart. &lt;br /&gt;OR if you're a terrible driver. Like today. &lt;br /&gt;I followed this family, on the road, closely and when I passed them, I gave them a dirty look because they cut me off in construction. &lt;br /&gt;Don't put it past me. I will be a bitch. For long periods of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in unrelated news, i got new, expensive eye cream. Hopefully, this makes me look less like a walking corpse and more like a real girl. &lt;br /&gt;But probably not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4551961677829899181?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4551961677829899181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-sign-would-say.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4551961677829899181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4551961677829899181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-sign-would-say.html' title='my sign would say'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YyNxylN59e0/TeRcToN0TcI/AAAAAAAAAj0/C1MYb0fMjME/s72-c/-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2893608131569931441</id><published>2011-05-25T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T15:57:17.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bending in the breeze</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bTqa4VKs4UA/Td2BshXNk_I/AAAAAAAAAjs/ouZv1U0qavA/s1600/-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bTqa4VKs4UA/Td2BshXNk_I/AAAAAAAAAjs/ouZv1U0qavA/s320/-8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610783312643462130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many different ways to be brave. I don't know very many&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2893608131569931441?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2893608131569931441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/bending-in-breeze.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2893608131569931441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2893608131569931441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/bending-in-breeze.html' title='bending in the breeze'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bTqa4VKs4UA/Td2BshXNk_I/AAAAAAAAAjs/ouZv1U0qavA/s72-c/-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2162695778561008518</id><published>2011-05-25T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T04:38:38.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nel blu, dipinto di blu Felice di stare lassu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6SWxIBK4Ds/TdzmuqFiDeI/AAAAAAAAAjk/rpc85-SaGuY/s1600/-7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6SWxIBK4Ds/TdzmuqFiDeI/AAAAAAAAAjk/rpc85-SaGuY/s320/-7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610612925042658786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mornings in spring are really great. They just kind of remind me that maybe it's okay - life, you know? &lt;br /&gt;It's gray today. &lt;br /&gt;The birds are in a tizzy over the abundance of food. It's a good tizzy. &lt;br /&gt;Rain is close by and the world has been awake, excited to greet me.  It might be a good day afterall. &lt;br /&gt;I have a black cat lounging on me to assure me that, in fact, not *everyone* has abandoned me. He's a constant reminder that not all love is based upon a set of conditions.  (I also have other things that remind me, but my little mister is my tangible token at this moment). &lt;br /&gt;All of my issues are first world problems. I realize this. I don't have to fight for survival, I don't have to use my hands to fight off poverty, I get to walk without worry for the most part - sometimes I feel so silly for being tortured, because really I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;This morning, pumping it's heart, swishing rain around in it's body, is telling me that. Grow up and be thankful and grateful and happy. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2162695778561008518?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2162695778561008518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/nel-blu-dipinto-di-blu-felice-di-stare.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2162695778561008518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2162695778561008518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/nel-blu-dipinto-di-blu-felice-di-stare.html' title='Nel blu, dipinto di blu Felice di stare lassu'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h6SWxIBK4Ds/TdzmuqFiDeI/AAAAAAAAAjk/rpc85-SaGuY/s72-c/-7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-790347405111203703</id><published>2011-05-24T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T05:09:01.374-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home is where I can take dumps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j4pMBzvTYhI/TducMpZL6aI/AAAAAAAAAjc/AP0UrhoMa6A/s1600/-6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j4pMBzvTYhI/TducMpZL6aI/AAAAAAAAAjc/AP0UrhoMa6A/s320/-6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610249501903940002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm home. &lt;br /&gt;Finally. &lt;br /&gt;It's not that I hate standing in a booth for 10 hours a day, it's just that it gets boring and it sucks all the energy out of you and it makes you retain water and get very sore feet. So, I'm home and it feels nice to lay in my own bed and tip type these words.&lt;br /&gt;Laying in my own bed, with a cute black cat next to me, is close to as good as it gets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These next few weeks are going to be torturous. This coming weekend, we go to Memphis. The week after that we go to Columbus. The week after that Andy is in Chicago. We are, mostly what I call, domestic travelers. If we can get there within a driving day (less than 10 hours) we go to there. I mean, not *every* place, but still, we go to many areas within driving distance. Memphis and Wisconsin and DC are as far as we go in their perspective distances. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh jesus, this is getting boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-790347405111203703?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/790347405111203703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/home-is-where-i-can-take-dumps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/790347405111203703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/790347405111203703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/home-is-where-i-can-take-dumps.html' title='Home is where I can take dumps'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j4pMBzvTYhI/TducMpZL6aI/AAAAAAAAAjc/AP0UrhoMa6A/s72-c/-6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-3296909979358012372</id><published>2011-05-20T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:06:40.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>loudly expressing my concern</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GQfgHGjaP00/TdcZaxxXD5I/AAAAAAAAAjU/0MHQa11447Y/s1600/-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608979808740904850" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GQfgHGjaP00/TdcZaxxXD5I/AAAAAAAAAjU/0MHQa11447Y/s320/-5.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Indianapolis tonight - alone. Currently laying on a King sized bed, under the covers, on the computer with the TV on. A ridiculously absurd decadence. I'm going to take an insanely long shower in that huge bathroom with 2 shower heads and then lounge in my end-of-the-hall room - alone. I'm even straight across the hall from the fire escape.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm still a little uneasy. &lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous alone. &lt;br /&gt;I most definitely don't want to only keep company with myself. I start thinking and doing introspection and uncomfortable things happen. &lt;br /&gt;Luckily, my day tomorrow will be filled with lots of strangers and at the end of the work day, I get to hang out with my love partner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when the rapture happens, at least we'll be together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-3296909979358012372?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/3296909979358012372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/loudly-expressing-my-concern.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3296909979358012372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/3296909979358012372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/loudly-expressing-my-concern.html' title='loudly expressing my concern'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GQfgHGjaP00/TdcZaxxXD5I/AAAAAAAAAjU/0MHQa11447Y/s72-c/-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-5186026581363272689</id><published>2011-05-20T08:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T08:12:01.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>kind of inspiring?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/paul-raushenbush/desiring-the-end-of-the-w_b_864574.html"&gt;this is okay&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-5186026581363272689?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/5186026581363272689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-is-okay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5186026581363272689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/5186026581363272689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-is-okay.html' title='kind of inspiring?'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4456045057650112446</id><published>2011-05-20T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T06:55:53.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>all apologies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FHovDzL8G4w/TdZo9wIyVtI/AAAAAAAAAjE/947zu2uPTLQ/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FHovDzL8G4w/TdZo9wIyVtI/AAAAAAAAAjE/947zu2uPTLQ/s320/-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608785796039595730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after the quake, Jesus comes back on his white horse. Is that before or after the 153 days in hell? I thought after the 153 days of hell on earth (hereforto known as HOE)there will be a big war - and then we have another chance to be granted into His Kingdom. God damn it, i'm so confused. Someone told me that probably HOE will most likely be Freshman year all over again. That'd be fine, if I could endure the man of dreams calling me names in front of all the cool people (yes, that actually happened) or if I could live through terrible skin and terrible teeth and really really short hair. I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I *could* live through other things, like zombies and police randomly searching my house and crushing up dried bones for paste. I can do things like that. Hopefully, we won't have to, but listen here, I most definitely can survive HOE if it boils down to being a bad ass.&lt;br /&gt;But seriously. I remember talking about the End Days when I went to a small country church in High School. I remember picking apart the Book of Revelations and talking about the Rapture and Hell on Earth and the big battle and how, after, Jesus will give us one more chance... if we can survive and admit our wrongdoings during the war. Or something along those lines. I don't remember exactly, but those are the keywords.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my point is, the *end* of the world isn't tomorrow, it starts tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little excited to see what happens. I mean, if I'm honest with myself, I know nothing is going to happen. The earth isn't ready for the end times, it's too young. Not to mention, human beings are going to bring about the end of the world, with this Mass Extinction we're &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4v1gfpArGWY/TdZwtZmJVHI/AAAAAAAAAjM/JyJ7LCUpahk/s1600/-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4v1gfpArGWY/TdZwtZmJVHI/AAAAAAAAAjM/JyJ7LCUpahk/s320/-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608794311203837042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;causing - not a man/god who got beat up thousands of years ago. So, what about this Harold Camping? What will he do? What will his followers do when they find out that everything isn't as Harold Camping says? I predict that he says he did the math wrong...again. Just like he did in 1994. Or kill himself to save face. And his followers, maybe they'll realize that if they are going to be Christians they should follow Christ and not some old man who hates gay people and who hates abortions. I don't know just a thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it does happen, I know I'm not getting raptured. HOE is for me, I guess. I have two kittens who need me to take care of them. I just started growing grass for house plants, which I'm very excited about, I just did laundry - I at least want to dirty them up again. Also, my best friends will be here. And together, we'll learn how to live in the post-rapture world. And maybe it'll be fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4456045057650112446?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4456045057650112446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/all-apologies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4456045057650112446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4456045057650112446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/all-apologies.html' title='all apologies'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FHovDzL8G4w/TdZo9wIyVtI/AAAAAAAAAjE/947zu2uPTLQ/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-7109664478671054867</id><published>2011-05-18T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T12:56:42.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll love this one</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ctBhPEi6VT0/TdQdiGG1cZI/AAAAAAAAAi8/3pd1eohwUhc/s1600/-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ctBhPEi6VT0/TdQdiGG1cZI/AAAAAAAAAi8/3pd1eohwUhc/s320/-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608139907575148946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Relationships aren't static. We all know that, right? At least, I hope we do. It's a tough lesson to learn, though, if you haven't already.  &lt;br /&gt;Friendships evolve or devolve and that's life. Proximity is good, but not always. Smiles are good, but not consistently. Grace only goes so far - sometimes there really is a proverbial straw that really breaks the back of that god damned camel. What I mean to say is, holy shit, I'm a little bit lonely. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know how it got like this. &lt;br /&gt;Well, I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-7109664478671054867?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/7109664478671054867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/youll-love-this-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7109664478671054867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7109664478671054867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/youll-love-this-one.html' title='You&apos;ll love this one'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ctBhPEi6VT0/TdQdiGG1cZI/AAAAAAAAAi8/3pd1eohwUhc/s72-c/-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-50739984278307546</id><published>2011-05-15T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T19:37:00.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tribal tattoos. Just kidding.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IYQi0kN92V8/TdB3mcUQuII/AAAAAAAAAi0/tfcuFt6xXCE/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IYQi0kN92V8/TdB3mcUQuII/AAAAAAAAAi0/tfcuFt6xXCE/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607113038396176514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we all have tribes, don't we? different circles that help survival in one form or another. i have found myself a nice and comfortable redefinition of family. my, a-hem, urban tribe, if you will, is eight deep. Six of us went to college together. Two of us are brothers, two of us were college roommates, three of us were college suite mates, two of us went to high school together and at one time, in the very recent past, all eight of us lived on the same street. &lt;br /&gt;like any family, like any tribe, separation is occurring. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if this disbanding is what's causing my uneasy outlook. it seems like if i don't have my tribe tightly circled around me, all of our backs facing in the circle, spears drawn facing outward... if i don't have proximity, i fear for my tribe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just think that growing up shouldn't mean being separated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being separated is the opposite of human. humans need to cluster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-50739984278307546?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/50739984278307546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/tribal-tattoos-just-kidding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/50739984278307546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/50739984278307546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/tribal-tattoos-just-kidding.html' title='Tribal tattoos. Just kidding.'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IYQi0kN92V8/TdB3mcUQuII/AAAAAAAAAi0/tfcuFt6xXCE/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-4132164758835485443</id><published>2011-05-13T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:06:20.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>{like}</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiIzJAmU15M/Tc3tM7DWX0I/AAAAAAAAAis/qWdQ3YNyfp0/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606397917412089666" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiIzJAmU15M/Tc3tM7DWX0I/AAAAAAAAAis/qWdQ3YNyfp0/s320/-3.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; there are plenty of things that totally get me down. lately, the biggest is feeling lonely and displaced and completely overlooked in the scheme of things. that's a big one. i feel overwhelmed and over stimulated to the point of rawness. i want to cut open my chest and let my heart slide out into the mud. i might as well, most of the time i'm completely empty. those things are floating around all six layers of my cortex. i'm functional most days, maybe even (seemingly, well, hopefully seemingly) happy. there are things that get me down, but a few things really make me feel like it's okay to be a human. &lt;br /&gt;flossing. &lt;br /&gt;i'm serious. i love to floss. i don't understand people who don't. it's easy and healthy and supposedly, it adds longevity to one's lifespan. &lt;br /&gt;birds.&lt;br /&gt;and not trendy little partridge or swallow or sparrow coffeemugs, wall decals or necklaces (though i like those too). real birds. watching them and knowing state birds and knowing that i know the names of every bird on my feeder (and probably your feeder, too). i like that i have a favorite bird. i like remembering when and where i saw that bird and how i knew exactly what it was, because i was waiting to see it. &lt;br /&gt;i like sleeping and reading. i like making fun of people who don't read. now, not people who *can't* read - just *don't* read. big difference. i used to help people learn to read. &lt;br /&gt;that seems crazy, almost a whole lifetime ago when i had the desire and the drive to actually volunteer. ((wait, i'm starting to merge into sad territory... avert.))&lt;br /&gt;i really, really, really like when i'm driving and a bird decides to run across the road, or parking lot to avoid getting hit instead of fly. it's a wonderful thing. so so funny and makes my heart feel 100 times bigger. i'm filled with so much love it's unbelievable. &lt;br /&gt;i like it when i'm driving in a parking lot and i yield for pedestrians and they do a little jog to get their bodies to the other side. it's a little pay back, like, "okay, you were sweet enough to let me go, now, let me hurry the process" even though it doesn't. that's just another thing that makes me want to explode. &lt;br /&gt;i like cross referencing facts. &lt;br /&gt;i like writing poetry. more than that, i like reading it. &lt;br /&gt;i like rubbing my feet together under the covers. it calms me down in a way i can't describe. &lt;br /&gt;i like cussing. it's one of my favorite things in the entire world. it started out as a joke. but now, it makes me feel enormously awesome. and also, hilarious. maybe i'll clean up my mouth when i have kids. more like, if i have kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like this blog post. maybe i'll write more at a later date. &lt;br /&gt;probably will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-4132164758835485443?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/4132164758835485443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4132164758835485443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/4132164758835485443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/like.html' title='{like}'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiIzJAmU15M/Tc3tM7DWX0I/AAAAAAAAAis/qWdQ3YNyfp0/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-1979457787146822544</id><published>2011-05-12T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:40:46.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>will we ever confess what we've done</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nU8wcGGZhFQ/TcvJEbUTxeI/AAAAAAAAAik/bjtHQ4lNSgM/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nU8wcGGZhFQ/TcvJEbUTxeI/AAAAAAAAAik/bjtHQ4lNSgM/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605795239082313186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this isn't in my yard. i wish it was. soon, when husband and i have a house with our very own yard, we will spend all of our moneys on landscaping, until then, i have what i have. and that's a tree in the back that has already lost all it's blossoms. it's a good place for some squirrels to hang out and a perfect place for a bird feeder, so i'm not complaining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-1979457787146822544?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/1979457787146822544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/will-we-ever-confess-what-weve-done.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1979457787146822544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/1979457787146822544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/will-we-ever-confess-what-weve-done.html' title='will we ever confess what we&apos;ve done'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nU8wcGGZhFQ/TcvJEbUTxeI/AAAAAAAAAik/bjtHQ4lNSgM/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2188308940562668314</id><published>2011-05-10T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T08:38:58.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a cry baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4mwUc2XgBs/TcktTL8z61I/AAAAAAAAAic/KRTV2S5LYDk/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4mwUc2XgBs/TcktTL8z61I/AAAAAAAAAic/KRTV2S5LYDk/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605061018887908178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forgive me for being such a complainer yesterday. things are hard sometimes for my brain to process. mondays are those things most of the time. &lt;br /&gt;today, it's supposed to be spring. real spring. warmer weather and chance of t-storms. finally. it's taken awhile to jump start this season in my heart. i still kind of feel like i'm sloshing around in december. &lt;br /&gt;this past year has been concrete in my veins. April 23, 2010 I found out that I was losing my job that I had for years. i left in june. since then, i've lost my routine that I had for 5 years. it's been incredibly difficult to find a new one. sincerely and seriously, i can't seem to find my place. i'm floating around, existing, but not ever really fitting in. i miss people who have deep history with me. &lt;br /&gt;i'm not saying that acting like someone who has the emotional maturity of a 4 year old is excusable, but when i think about this past year, i understand. i'm not that sure i gave myself enough time to grieve the loss of something i held dear. &lt;br /&gt;so, here i am now, subtly sad about the life i had. &lt;br /&gt;i still have a life partner who loves me and i him. &lt;br /&gt;i still have a robin's nest outside my window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life moves on and so do we. and, really, that's okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2188308940562668314?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2188308940562668314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-cry-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2188308940562668314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2188308940562668314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-cry-baby.html' title='What a cry baby'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u4mwUc2XgBs/TcktTL8z61I/AAAAAAAAAic/KRTV2S5LYDk/s72-c/-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-9084630293840474004</id><published>2011-05-09T09:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T10:11:05.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanctuary, I beg.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4VD-zKX0FSQ/TcgcKSRkvnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/XTq2r1ob96c/s1600/farmland.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4VD-zKX0FSQ/TcgcKSRkvnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/XTq2r1ob96c/s320/farmland.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604760699292401266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sometimes it's incredibly difficult to be thankful for my everyday life. Isn't that absurd? I have it amazingly easy. I have a beautiful life, really. A boy who loves me and two cats who are supremely different from each other AND other cats, but little gems, nonetheless. blah blah blah. &lt;br /&gt;but some days, like today, i feel badly for myself because I have all these huge and ominous responsibilities, that i hate. i hate them. i hate work. the fact that i have to be somewhere. everything (nearly) irritates me on days like this. I shouldn't work customer service on days like this. i shouldn't have gotten dressed and shouldn't pretend that things are hunky dory on days like this. i should be a researcher with the freedom to take a personal day. i shouldn't be allowed to have contact with anyone who can't follow simple directions, or who doesn't understand that parenting really is the *only* thing they should be concerned with when they have children or people who don't know how to locate items in the library or snide teenager/early 20 something yr old girls who just are insanely arrogant. i need to stay home. in fact, i need to go home. &lt;br /&gt;for something somewhere at some random time in my life, i'm home sick. i want to, with an intense desire, take my husband and my kittens and retreat. sew a white flag and wave it all the way to the country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-9084630293840474004?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/9084630293840474004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/sanctuary-i-beg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/9084630293840474004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/9084630293840474004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/sanctuary-i-beg.html' title='Sanctuary, I beg.'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4VD-zKX0FSQ/TcgcKSRkvnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/XTq2r1ob96c/s72-c/farmland.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-2032246022789156262</id><published>2011-05-06T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T22:29:08.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let us float</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tUQu6x2FMU4/TcTXeljHgKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/o_5CwAiTCus/s1600/-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tUQu6x2FMU4/TcTXeljHgKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/o_5CwAiTCus/s320/-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603840756831191202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;days like this make a girl happy about life. emotions were raw and exposed today - all day long. we have such an opportunity to feel - and i'm not sure the majority of us take advantage of that. &lt;br /&gt;things were beautiful. rainy in the morning, brilliant at noon, rainy again then brilliant again. sparrows hop a little cuter on days like this when we get to drink in all the temperaments of spring. but honestly, who am i kidding? sparrows always hop on the supreme level of cute. buildings, on the other hand, are more amazing set to the background of ridiculously large clouds. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZ1baRAfJ_4/TcTVeFFDPII/AAAAAAAAAhs/CkU4OmWysJg/s1600/-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IZ1baRAfJ_4/TcTVeFFDPII/AAAAAAAAAhs/CkU4OmWysJg/s320/-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603838549091892354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; it really makes a girl want to sit outside and not move for eons - to melt away with decomposition and become part of the mud. sit around, quietly, and watch evolution turn us into more capable beings. maybe my skin will eventually become the boots of someone famous.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like we're on the cusp. like maybe good things could be happening somewhere in the future that is absurdly close at hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did you know it was nurses day? i didn't either. i don't really care*. every day is day, i mean, right? let's praise the oxygen for doing it's job and the sun, those are important jobs. but we don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's let the clouds be clouds - even though i exalt them often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-2032246022789156262?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/2032246022789156262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/let-us-float.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2032246022789156262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/2032246022789156262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/let-us-float.html' title='let us float'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tUQu6x2FMU4/TcTXeljHgKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/o_5CwAiTCus/s72-c/-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-7090247814136292844</id><published>2011-05-05T04:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T04:08:59.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h94Z28YC6GE/TcKFKB5xsbI/AAAAAAAAAhc/hZti7_d3XBQ/s1600/collage%2B1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h94Z28YC6GE/TcKFKB5xsbI/AAAAAAAAAhc/hZti7_d3XBQ/s400/collage%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603187293758271922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-7090247814136292844?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/7090247814136292844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/dc.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7090247814136292844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/7090247814136292844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/dc.html' title=''/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h94Z28YC6GE/TcKFKB5xsbI/AAAAAAAAAhc/hZti7_d3XBQ/s72-c/collage%2B1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-6641697371786717718</id><published>2011-05-05T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T04:37:21.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want to go without you anymore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Md2npLCdNKg/TcKL6KZ8prI/AAAAAAAAAhk/VD9RGSY3IzE/s1600/DSC02622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Md2npLCdNKg/TcKL6KZ8prI/AAAAAAAAAhk/VD9RGSY3IzE/s320/DSC02622.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603194717744178866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is an iconic day for me - it's our wedding anniversary, me and my husband. I'm up about 45 minutes early about to bake biscuits. I honestly can't believe it's been four years. it's simultaneously a long time and a blink of an eye. time is useless that way - has no real bearings for my heart. &lt;br /&gt;We're pretty strong together, though, if I say so. &lt;br /&gt;So, happy four years to us. We're in it for the long haul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-6641697371786717718?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/6641697371786717718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-want-to-go-without-you-anymore.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6641697371786717718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/6641697371786717718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-want-to-go-without-you-anymore.html' title='I don&apos;t want to go without you anymore'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Md2npLCdNKg/TcKL6KZ8prI/AAAAAAAAAhk/VD9RGSY3IzE/s72-c/DSC02622.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-851570101988738308.post-296545329020051895</id><published>2011-05-04T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T14:41:57.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My 8,000th first start</title><content type='html'>Aren't first blog posts the most difficult ones to type? And since I'm a "first blog post" connoisseur, I most definitely know what I'm talking about. They're hard. It's like, "should I introduce myself in some witty, cute way?" "should I talk about my intentions for this blog?" "Maybe this time I'll try something totally new, like... talk about how difficult the first post is..." I completely understand this isn't the most creative way to kick off a blog, but since I've started and stopped approximately 8 thousand blogs, I'll do the easy one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, by telling you that I'm a chronic starter, then chronic stopper of blogs, why, you're probably asking yourself, should I even invest in reading this one? Probably you shouldn't. But if you do, maybe we'll have fun together. Or maybe not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write poetry sometimes. And I do have a blog for that. That &lt;a href="http://letitfree.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;  has been in existence for several years now... so, maybe I only pseudo have commitment issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog will be a catch all. That I promise you. At least for a little while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/851570101988738308-296545329020051895?l=allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/feeds/296545329020051895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-8000th-first-start.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/296545329020051895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/851570101988738308/posts/default/296545329020051895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://allcolorsalldirections.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-8000th-first-start.html' title='My 8,000th first start'/><author><name>erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05594504176263533015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMcoI_VZYoY/TcAJplcqMmI/AAAAAAAAAf4/9bFPlzuSlR4/s220/-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
