I'm obsessed with my TSX.
Just ask bub.
The slightest thing that comes in contact with it makes me nuts. I bend over the shiny surface inspecting what imperfections were born overnight or while I was at my desk.
Well, it's time for its first checkup. As I pull the beautiful blue mass towards the man who waves me over, he immediately gets his ballpoint pen out to mark up a diagram. Little do I know what he's actually writing down. So I take my vanilla latte and stroll over to the man whom I had made an appointment with one day earlier. As he verifies that I'll need a ride to the office, he shows me.
The diagram.
Tiny x's swarm the page. Not that many, but more than I thought could ever be possible after only 6 months of bliss.
My face got all pouty. WHAT? WHAT? The guy who was in charge of my paperwork stared at me. Even the guy behind me in line had his what-is-WRONG-with-her? face on.
I started to ask how to fix these x's. I'm told the solution.
I mean, all this energy over a few little dings on my most lovely car.
Say it with me now: get OVER it!
30 December 2005
25 December 2005
I had vivid memories as I stared at the lights twinkling on bub's parents' tree of my Nana and her decorated house.
Every year on Christmas Eve, I remember dressing up fancy in shiny shoes and soft, velvety dresses ready to tear through Santa's first round of gifts. My Nana's tree always had a few spare types of decorations: tinsel--but she spaced it out in pieces ever so perfectly, red bows, fabric poinsettia-looking blossoms, and usually red and/or gold balls. A star sat on top. The tree was quite real.
My dad's sisters, my aunt, and until she passed away, my great aunt, would convene and it was my sister and I as the only children who peered with wonder and curiosity at all the presents under the tree.
If I had to use the bathroom it was the walk from the family room where we all laughed, talked, drank eggnog, and spent time, that I journeyed through the delicious smells of the kitchen--but took a detour--through the dining room with some desserts that were abandoned. As I sampled meringues and Christmas cookies, there was the formal living room where white lights would flicker in their solstice. And then I spotted it, the mini tree, all the way at the end of the corrider, just past the door of the bathroom. White lights adorned it, and a mirror hung behind. The mirror giving more power to the twinkling lights and to the tree's presence. It all sort of seems silly. Isn't it just a tree?
And right around the corner, my Nana's room. Completely feminine, perfect up to the hairbrush and mirror. Photos with frayed edges stuck in antique frames. My father. Sand, ocean, he's at the beach. So small. A different person. Not yet the knower of everything he can do today. Everything that he teaches me daily. Everything that I'm grateful for.
And she's gone and I fear that my memories of her laugh and love may slip into the shadows of what used to be her home, but it is now someone else's. Someone else's chance to create twinkling wonders at Christmas.
Every year on Christmas Eve, I remember dressing up fancy in shiny shoes and soft, velvety dresses ready to tear through Santa's first round of gifts. My Nana's tree always had a few spare types of decorations: tinsel--but she spaced it out in pieces ever so perfectly, red bows, fabric poinsettia-looking blossoms, and usually red and/or gold balls. A star sat on top. The tree was quite real.
My dad's sisters, my aunt, and until she passed away, my great aunt, would convene and it was my sister and I as the only children who peered with wonder and curiosity at all the presents under the tree.
If I had to use the bathroom it was the walk from the family room where we all laughed, talked, drank eggnog, and spent time, that I journeyed through the delicious smells of the kitchen--but took a detour--through the dining room with some desserts that were abandoned. As I sampled meringues and Christmas cookies, there was the formal living room where white lights would flicker in their solstice. And then I spotted it, the mini tree, all the way at the end of the corrider, just past the door of the bathroom. White lights adorned it, and a mirror hung behind. The mirror giving more power to the twinkling lights and to the tree's presence. It all sort of seems silly. Isn't it just a tree?
And right around the corner, my Nana's room. Completely feminine, perfect up to the hairbrush and mirror. Photos with frayed edges stuck in antique frames. My father. Sand, ocean, he's at the beach. So small. A different person. Not yet the knower of everything he can do today. Everything that he teaches me daily. Everything that I'm grateful for.
And she's gone and I fear that my memories of her laugh and love may slip into the shadows of what used to be her home, but it is now someone else's. Someone else's chance to create twinkling wonders at Christmas.
21 December 2005
A few things:
First, we always have 1,000,001 things to do the night before we go away. No matter where it is that we're going, we can never be prepared prior to the day before. It gets frustrating, but with some healthy beverages and even a trip to the gym, I think it'll all get done in due time. Too bad there are so many cards to finish making, bub's shopping to complete (if he asks me what to get my sister one more time, I'm going to buy something for him to give her), and my most lovely car to clean for our road outing!
Second, the buzz about Johnny Jesus wearing pinstripes is overrated. The Yankees were losers ever since Ortiz sweeped their cheeks.
Third, Santa Clause is coming, in case you weren't aware.
And finally, an update on the law school drama that is half consuming my life (b/c the other half is reading Martha Stewart wedding mags):
SU Law--application is in
NEU Law--application is in
NESL--spoke to my admissions contact and he was SO helpful (even more helpful than the SU Law's meeting w/ the Dean of Admissions) and he advised me to wait until I get score #2 before I send in my stuff so he can "direct me in the best way"--what a nice Christmas gift. If only he could just put me on the acceptance list...sigh....
But that still doesn't help me figure out my quarter life crisis. For those of you who don't know what it is, perhaps I'll leave it at that for now until I have either acceptance or rejection letters in hand.
And for now, a little something to chew on by none other than yours truly:
cars stumble by with exhausted engines much like the tiring minds that we drag around after the sun has set yet
somehow memories are the grease that fuel effortless thoughts of the foreign encounters that cause the world to blur, spin, and dream
cold days yield warm moments filled with mostly artificial wishes for the holidays
but only yours can be truly fuzzy if you steer destiny back on course and realize that not everything is about you...
First, we always have 1,000,001 things to do the night before we go away. No matter where it is that we're going, we can never be prepared prior to the day before. It gets frustrating, but with some healthy beverages and even a trip to the gym, I think it'll all get done in due time. Too bad there are so many cards to finish making, bub's shopping to complete (if he asks me what to get my sister one more time, I'm going to buy something for him to give her), and my most lovely car to clean for our road outing!
Second, the buzz about Johnny Jesus wearing pinstripes is overrated. The Yankees were losers ever since Ortiz sweeped their cheeks.
Third, Santa Clause is coming, in case you weren't aware.
And finally, an update on the law school drama that is half consuming my life (b/c the other half is reading Martha Stewart wedding mags):
SU Law--application is in
NEU Law--application is in
NESL--spoke to my admissions contact and he was SO helpful (even more helpful than the SU Law's meeting w/ the Dean of Admissions) and he advised me to wait until I get score #2 before I send in my stuff so he can "direct me in the best way"--what a nice Christmas gift. If only he could just put me on the acceptance list...sigh....
But that still doesn't help me figure out my quarter life crisis. For those of you who don't know what it is, perhaps I'll leave it at that for now until I have either acceptance or rejection letters in hand.
And for now, a little something to chew on by none other than yours truly:
cars stumble by with exhausted engines much like the tiring minds that we drag around after the sun has set yet
somehow memories are the grease that fuel effortless thoughts of the foreign encounters that cause the world to blur, spin, and dream
cold days yield warm moments filled with mostly artificial wishes for the holidays
but only yours can be truly fuzzy if you steer destiny back on course and realize that not everything is about you...
19 December 2005
We flipped through what seemed like a dozen albums. Ones with photos on the front, ones that were embossed, ones that were deemed "coffee table" styled. We were exhausted with the options. We left.
And that's when we agreed on a trip to C's. A secret of sorts, we discussed the day, my job, and how I take for granted how wonderful things really are. I get so caught up in the poisons of everyday and of the past, that sometimes I don't see what is happening all around me. I'm gaining the strength necessary to be even stronger in 2006, for 2005 is quickly leaving us. And I'll miss it, for it has been one of my best years yet.
And that's when we agreed on a trip to C's. A secret of sorts, we discussed the day, my job, and how I take for granted how wonderful things really are. I get so caught up in the poisons of everyday and of the past, that sometimes I don't see what is happening all around me. I'm gaining the strength necessary to be even stronger in 2006, for 2005 is quickly leaving us. And I'll miss it, for it has been one of my best years yet.
18 December 2005
I hadn't seen my grandmother in at least a couple of years. Not a good time to get into the details on that, but I did see her today.
It got me thinking about family and how I'm about to become--officially--part of bub's. His sister will be my sister. His parents will become...my parents? His grandfather...mine?
I mean, there's definitely substance behind family members that you've grown up with, the ones who share the same blood type as you. The ones who have seen EVERYTHING about you, like when you're waiting in the lobby of Hillside Elementary School with a broken wrist, or you're practicing using crutches to get around your very first apartment in the Boulders. Stuff like that. Stuff you could never really reminisce about with new family.
But the thing about new family is that there's plenty of time to get them all caught up on what you're really about.
It got me thinking about family and how I'm about to become--officially--part of bub's. His sister will be my sister. His parents will become...my parents? His grandfather...mine?
I mean, there's definitely substance behind family members that you've grown up with, the ones who share the same blood type as you. The ones who have seen EVERYTHING about you, like when you're waiting in the lobby of Hillside Elementary School with a broken wrist, or you're practicing using crutches to get around your very first apartment in the Boulders. Stuff like that. Stuff you could never really reminisce about with new family.
But the thing about new family is that there's plenty of time to get them all caught up on what you're really about.
14 December 2005
I was so completely thrilled for the girl who just won the latest competition on America's Next Top Model. Yes, I watch that show.
I missed the finale last week, but as luck would have it, they play the reruns of the show's episodes quickly. So I caught all the action last night.
Although Tyra can be a bit of a bulldog, I do have to say that she's quite the mentor to these young girls. Even though it must be glamourous to have someone staring at you as you walk down a long plank so that you can swivel your hips and shake your booty, I'm not sure it would be very stimulating after a few times. But hell, what do I know about it?
I missed the finale last week, but as luck would have it, they play the reruns of the show's episodes quickly. So I caught all the action last night.
Although Tyra can be a bit of a bulldog, I do have to say that she's quite the mentor to these young girls. Even though it must be glamourous to have someone staring at you as you walk down a long plank so that you can swivel your hips and shake your booty, I'm not sure it would be very stimulating after a few times. But hell, what do I know about it?
12 December 2005
So here are some thoughts for today:
When your alarm clock goes off at the wrong time and you manage to arrive earlier to work than you usually would, what exactly is it that's happened?
Peanut butter on water crackers washed down with Leffe as the beverage of choice is overwhelmingly to the senses.
Let's clarify the aforementioned: peanut butter on ANYTHING is delightful, much to bub's dismay. For starters, just try it on toast!
Any more items to clarify might be pushing the limit.
Laundry towers do not rule.
When your alarm clock goes off at the wrong time and you manage to arrive earlier to work than you usually would, what exactly is it that's happened?
Peanut butter on water crackers washed down with Leffe as the beverage of choice is overwhelmingly to the senses.
Let's clarify the aforementioned: peanut butter on ANYTHING is delightful, much to bub's dismay. For starters, just try it on toast!
Any more items to clarify might be pushing the limit.
Laundry towers do not rule.
11 December 2005
10 December 2005
Another person has died.
My fiance's colleague, a man of only 26 years old (and whom I'm told was not old enough to be a man), has passed because of cardiac arrest. His name appeared on the work Christmas party invitations as he was the contact person for RSVP purposes. My fiance had just seen him the night we went to the symphony. He was just here, work things in place, roommates at home, a life. A young life on its path to more living. But not now. Not ever.
Though I didn't know him--had never seen his face--he will be missed.
My fiance's colleague, a man of only 26 years old (and whom I'm told was not old enough to be a man), has passed because of cardiac arrest. His name appeared on the work Christmas party invitations as he was the contact person for RSVP purposes. My fiance had just seen him the night we went to the symphony. He was just here, work things in place, roommates at home, a life. A young life on its path to more living. But not now. Not ever.
Though I didn't know him--had never seen his face--he will be missed.
09 December 2005
There are several things that I find absolutely breathtaking and gorgeous, yet, I find that others may not agree or understand. Let me list those items and perhaps those of you who are lost or confused can comment:
1. A lit candle whose flame burns in the presence of no one, yet you know that it is flickering.
2. A lit Christmas tree that you decorate. Ours is up and is delightful.
3. Silence as you stand outdoors and admire newly fallen snow.
4. Fireworks as you reflect on your life and memories. It's almost as important as New Year's resolutions.
5. Staring into the eyes of the one you call your soul mate. Because the future is the most mysterious thing and because you're living in the now.
I think that's it for the moment. Red wine on a snowy indoors-evening is most lovely.
Cheers!
1. A lit candle whose flame burns in the presence of no one, yet you know that it is flickering.
2. A lit Christmas tree that you decorate. Ours is up and is delightful.
3. Silence as you stand outdoors and admire newly fallen snow.
4. Fireworks as you reflect on your life and memories. It's almost as important as New Year's resolutions.
5. Staring into the eyes of the one you call your soul mate. Because the future is the most mysterious thing and because you're living in the now.
I think that's it for the moment. Red wine on a snowy indoors-evening is most lovely.
Cheers!
06 December 2005
Dear Bub,
I hate it when we fight. You're right; I'm a nasty fighter. I don't have in mind "I want to win" so much as I want to be heard. I am dominating, controlling, and rude. You put every ounce of meanness you had in you and tried to hurl insults at me. I ate them up and spit them back. And for this I am proud?
No.
I want to be more like you. Kind, sensitive, and true. Please teach me these things before the tears fall.
-Your bub
I hate it when we fight. You're right; I'm a nasty fighter. I don't have in mind "I want to win" so much as I want to be heard. I am dominating, controlling, and rude. You put every ounce of meanness you had in you and tried to hurl insults at me. I ate them up and spit them back. And for this I am proud?
No.
I want to be more like you. Kind, sensitive, and true. Please teach me these things before the tears fall.
-Your bub
05 December 2005
Waking up yesterday morning when the relief of the LSAT being over had almost washed away, I heard that my bub was stirring in the living room.
I open the door and through my blinded eyes (b/c I didn't have my contacts or glasses on), I see brightness: the first snowfall of the season is happening through the raised blinds of the window. My bub was perched on the loveseat in pj's and with a book. He peers outside. A picture that is perfect.
I am so lucky.
I open the door and through my blinded eyes (b/c I didn't have my contacts or glasses on), I see brightness: the first snowfall of the season is happening through the raised blinds of the window. My bub was perched on the loveseat in pj's and with a book. He peers outside. A picture that is perfect.
I am so lucky.
03 December 2005
It's over. The test is over. I just threw out my practice books and materials; I am done.
Sigh, sigh. Sigh. Deep breath in...out...
I mean, I know I still have to finish applying (a.k.a.: the personal statement) and then write an optional essay and/or amendment, deal with the financial aid...but then, that's it. Stress puff gone. Very large stress puff.
But then what? What's next? Family or academia? Parenting or studenting?
No one said when, exactly, we'd have to make decisions like this. And why is this one so difficult?
One step at a time. But for now--I am DONE!!!
Sigh, sigh. Sigh. Deep breath in...out...
I mean, I know I still have to finish applying (a.k.a.: the personal statement) and then write an optional essay and/or amendment, deal with the financial aid...but then, that's it. Stress puff gone. Very large stress puff.
But then what? What's next? Family or academia? Parenting or studenting?
No one said when, exactly, we'd have to make decisions like this. And why is this one so difficult?
One step at a time. But for now--I am DONE!!!
02 December 2005
28 November 2005
Welcome to Me:
I love the heated seats in my car.
I feel better when surrounded by lots of colors.
I miss college.
Anything having to do with a noodle rocks.
I want to learn more about wine.
I feel connected with writing, especially The Time Traveler's Wife. I want someone to search for me when I'm 82.
I'm having a quarter-century dilemma: kids sooner rather than later or law school? Someone decide for me, please.
I love all animals, especially gray cats with large eyes, dogs that smile, and turtles that sun bathe.
I can smell Christmas by walking outside at night.
Baking cookies makes the world seem better.
I believe that the Earth is putting a blanket on when daylight savings time ends and winter approaches. And when the Earth yawns, the blanket comes off, revealing new life and peace.
I was on top of the world when my fiance popped the question.
I used to know how to write and somehow, it got lost along the way.
I had two friends whom I loved and they moved away. But we weren't friends before they moved.
I procrastinate because it feels so good.
I am afraid of death.
I think when a candle is lit and left in the other room, flickering, that it is one of life's treasures.
Garlic is a gift and onions, too.
My fiance and I call each other Bub.
I miss my Nana.
I'm still procrastinating.
I love the heated seats in my car.
I feel better when surrounded by lots of colors.
I miss college.
Anything having to do with a noodle rocks.
I want to learn more about wine.
I feel connected with writing, especially The Time Traveler's Wife. I want someone to search for me when I'm 82.
I'm having a quarter-century dilemma: kids sooner rather than later or law school? Someone decide for me, please.
I love all animals, especially gray cats with large eyes, dogs that smile, and turtles that sun bathe.
I can smell Christmas by walking outside at night.
Baking cookies makes the world seem better.
I believe that the Earth is putting a blanket on when daylight savings time ends and winter approaches. And when the Earth yawns, the blanket comes off, revealing new life and peace.
I was on top of the world when my fiance popped the question.
I used to know how to write and somehow, it got lost along the way.
I had two friends whom I loved and they moved away. But we weren't friends before they moved.
I procrastinate because it feels so good.
I am afraid of death.
I think when a candle is lit and left in the other room, flickering, that it is one of life's treasures.
Garlic is a gift and onions, too.
My fiance and I call each other Bub.
I miss my Nana.
I'm still procrastinating.
25 November 2005
Will I get into law school?
That's the million dollar question. I thought people respected others who are well-educated, well-versed, well-rounded, well-everything. But the thing is, your past clings to you with every breathing moment when you apply for admissions to an academic program: what were your SAT scores? What's the internship you completed--you know the one, the one that mom's friend's dad's brother helped you to get that had to do with typing up something on a computer to show that you have office skills? Yeah, that one.
So I'm trying to polish up my personal statement. That thing that you have to write that tells EVERYTHING about you in like 50 words or less and if it's not good, you're doomed, yet you're also told that if your test scores and GPA suck, well then, your personal statement can suck too since they'll probably never read it!
With this application process there's stress, failure-attacks, screaming, slamming of doors, many tears, and around the corner: relief. Relief that the process is almost over. I take the LSAT again (God help me) next week, I need to write out a couple optional items pleaing for admission into schools that will cause me to go bankrupt, and finish that lovely personal statement which doesn't seem very personal. All so that I can receive a letter of welcome. Welcome, ______! You DON'T suck, after all.
So please pray for me. I really need it. I'm no academic, I'm just a regular person who wants to learn something. But unfortunately, my past is what it is. And it's for everyone to see just as soon as I give them the key to unleash it all: scores, papers, and any other baggage I have. I hope they find something half-entertaining so that the process isn't a waste for everyone.
That's the million dollar question. I thought people respected others who are well-educated, well-versed, well-rounded, well-everything. But the thing is, your past clings to you with every breathing moment when you apply for admissions to an academic program: what were your SAT scores? What's the internship you completed--you know the one, the one that mom's friend's dad's brother helped you to get that had to do with typing up something on a computer to show that you have office skills? Yeah, that one.
So I'm trying to polish up my personal statement. That thing that you have to write that tells EVERYTHING about you in like 50 words or less and if it's not good, you're doomed, yet you're also told that if your test scores and GPA suck, well then, your personal statement can suck too since they'll probably never read it!
With this application process there's stress, failure-attacks, screaming, slamming of doors, many tears, and around the corner: relief. Relief that the process is almost over. I take the LSAT again (God help me) next week, I need to write out a couple optional items pleaing for admission into schools that will cause me to go bankrupt, and finish that lovely personal statement which doesn't seem very personal. All so that I can receive a letter of welcome. Welcome, ______! You DON'T suck, after all.
So please pray for me. I really need it. I'm no academic, I'm just a regular person who wants to learn something. But unfortunately, my past is what it is. And it's for everyone to see just as soon as I give them the key to unleash it all: scores, papers, and any other baggage I have. I hope they find something half-entertaining so that the process isn't a waste for everyone.
20 November 2005
19 November 2005
09 November 2005
I found it. My dress. My very own lovely "I feel like a princess" dress. I can't describe it here for fear of my bub reading this, but know that it helped spring tears of joy to my eyes when I had it on at the store last night. I felt heavenly, gorgeous, a queen. And now I must wait, wait a very long time, to wear it. Make it my own. Adore the feeling of lightweight bliss. The day cannot come soon enough.
04 November 2005
I have great news!
I'm almost fully recovered from my sickness. And when I was feeling especially gross (two days ago), we managed to keep our appointment with a priest to see if he would marry me and Peter this summer. And he can! I am ecstatic. I just wanted to say so b/c now everything is official. With my reception site and church set, I can now go dress shopping, which I'll start looking for tomorrow.
Yay! :)
I'm almost fully recovered from my sickness. And when I was feeling especially gross (two days ago), we managed to keep our appointment with a priest to see if he would marry me and Peter this summer. And he can! I am ecstatic. I just wanted to say so b/c now everything is official. With my reception site and church set, I can now go dress shopping, which I'll start looking for tomorrow.
Yay! :)
02 November 2005
01 November 2005
Dear Bub,
That sparkly thing on my hand is not for me.
It is for you.
You are the one who believes in us truly, deeply. Although I have known for a while. For a long while. It was you who I waited for: to approach me, but then to decide that you loved me enough to spend each day in one another's thoughts, dreams, fears--in person--and in heart.
I'm so glad you finally chose me, Bub.
Love, the one.
That sparkly thing on my hand is not for me.
It is for you.
You are the one who believes in us truly, deeply. Although I have known for a while. For a long while. It was you who I waited for: to approach me, but then to decide that you loved me enough to spend each day in one another's thoughts, dreams, fears--in person--and in heart.
I'm so glad you finally chose me, Bub.
Love, the one.
I'm really out of practice, so I hope my posts will improve.
There's so much to ramble on about, but I am at work trying to do this again b/c my mind wants to stretch in a million directions, and yet, I always leave feeling like the day escapes me too quickly. Maybe if I was more productive and focused, I wouldn't feel that way.
I've been listening to "Sorta Fairytale" many times lately. You know, the one by Tori Amos. The song is so smooth, so melodic, that I haven't yet been sick of hearing it yet. I'm sure that will change. I like change, I do.
I don't like when posters exploit their lives online so that they can garner attention. Ahem, you know who you are. I mean, really, do you think you're going to get a book deal that way? Or a fan club? Get over yourself.
There's so much to ramble on about, but I am at work trying to do this again b/c my mind wants to stretch in a million directions, and yet, I always leave feeling like the day escapes me too quickly. Maybe if I was more productive and focused, I wouldn't feel that way.
I've been listening to "Sorta Fairytale" many times lately. You know, the one by Tori Amos. The song is so smooth, so melodic, that I haven't yet been sick of hearing it yet. I'm sure that will change. I like change, I do.
I don't like when posters exploit their lives online so that they can garner attention. Ahem, you know who you are. I mean, really, do you think you're going to get a book deal that way? Or a fan club? Get over yourself.
31 October 2005
I feel like a bad wife and I'm not even a wife yet.
I'm totally getting sick and know that I have tons of cleaning ahead of me.
This is how I think.
I'm at work with another zillion and one things to do. You see I'm just drowning in life. Law school applications and a low LSAT score, wedding plans, and a growing gut. It's hard being me today. And yet I decided to try my best to start and keep writing in this thing b/c I used to write and then it all disappeared like the Halloween candy we once had. I just want to know what it is to be an organized and prioritized person b/c I used to know and now I don't.
And I want to know what happened to my friends; the ones that were once my best, absolute, most lovely friends--and then they fizzled out. It's like I dated them or something and I have to go through the breakups. My old roommate can't even come to terms with whatever it is I did to upset her 4 years ago. My other friend and I were so close and then she decided designer jeans, a short haircut, and a pasty thin body were much cooler than me and my words. So I just want to tell them both something: SCREW YOU. I don't have to care any more, but I do.
-ripe
I'm totally getting sick and know that I have tons of cleaning ahead of me.
This is how I think.
I'm at work with another zillion and one things to do. You see I'm just drowning in life. Law school applications and a low LSAT score, wedding plans, and a growing gut. It's hard being me today. And yet I decided to try my best to start and keep writing in this thing b/c I used to write and then it all disappeared like the Halloween candy we once had. I just want to know what it is to be an organized and prioritized person b/c I used to know and now I don't.
And I want to know what happened to my friends; the ones that were once my best, absolute, most lovely friends--and then they fizzled out. It's like I dated them or something and I have to go through the breakups. My old roommate can't even come to terms with whatever it is I did to upset her 4 years ago. My other friend and I were so close and then she decided designer jeans, a short haircut, and a pasty thin body were much cooler than me and my words. So I just want to tell them both something: SCREW YOU. I don't have to care any more, but I do.
-ripe
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