the Pinocchio in me

I’m going to tell you a lie. I know you’re disappointed that I would break the trust that we have worked so hard to establish. I know and I’m sorry, but this lie has to be told. It’s quite unavoidable. And it is the first time that I have so certainly lied to you. Oh, I’ve straightened out some curves before. I’ve made things a bit rosier when really they were just pink, but flat out lie? Me? Never. Until today. And so, I’ll tell you that I took out my Christmas tree weeks ago and that it is not in fact still in my living room where it’s dry rotting corpse is so dead that the breeze made by me walking through the room exerts such force that needles fall and those needles have to be vacuumed up every other day. There now, that’s better. My first lie is out of the way. I hope this will not evoke our first fight where you tell me that your trust is broken and that you are not sure that this relationship will last. In my defense, I warned you. I warned you about the lie and I’m certain that being in my head for as long as you have, you are bound to know that these things will happen, that Christmas trees may linger. It’s nothing really. It’s just the Pinocchio in me.



happy birthday d.h.

D. H. is a friend of a friend who is a great friend. She lived with my best friend Pretty K in college and because D. herself is so not normal, she became part of the Pretty Club. We call her Pretty D.

She is fabulous and brilliant. She works with children who speak Enlgish as a second language and I know she does a hell of a job. She's so smart that even the state of Virginia has even asked for her services.

She's well traveled. Because she is so brilliant she has taken part in classes that travel throughout the Spanish speaking world. She's gone places and seen things I only wish I could. And I'm sure she's made a lasting impression with the people she meets everywhere she goes. She's so freindly that she's met friends on the subway. NO ONE else in D.C. does this. It's taboo to talk to strangers on the subway, but somehow, with D.'s unassuming way, she brings people into her world so easily.

She has an AMAZING voice. She's sung since college and continues now in the Choral Arts Society in Washington, D.C. This too has helped her travel the world. She's so talented, her voice is like a songbird. It can make you cry. I'm jealous of this too.

Her spirit matches everything else about her that is wonderful. She is kind and generous and senstive and passionate. She deserves some much kindness and gentleness in return. She certainly gives it. She makes you feel like you are the only person in the room when you're talking to her. She makes you feel important. I hope she knows how important she is to all her friends and family. And what an amazing family as well. She is so blessed to have such passion all around her.

I wish her the happiest of birthdays. Happy Birthday Pretty D.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



happy birthday j.d.

She’s newly engaged and I am so excited for her. Her boy took her to New York City to the diamond district to pick out her own ring. How awesome is that?!? He seems like a sweetheart and she totally deserves a good man and a good life.

I met J. my first year in college because she lived in my suite. We became fast friends because we both had eccentric, strange roommates and we needed to get away from them. I experienced a lot of my first parties and college craziness with her. I remember her late night laugh the best and I have a picture of all of our good 1st year friends and we are all laughing and J. is there with her mouth wide open in hysterics. I can hear her laugh in that picture and it makes me miss her.

There is another picture of her on my refrigerator. It is a group of girls in our 2nd year in my apartment. We are standing beside each other with Boones Farm in our hands. We are happy in that picture and totally loving our nasty cheap wine. I miss the carefree days of parties with friends every weekend, but sadly even then we were all a bit stressed. J. and I have both learned to take life less seriously since then and I love our long conversations about life and balance even though they are few and far between.

J. is a great friend because you can go weeks and months without talking and when you do talk to her, it’s like you had seen her yesterday. She understands the sadness in life and the happiness and because of this she is a true person. Her heart is always open to her friends.

We’ve been through trials and tribulations of boys and lack of boys and friends getting married and now having babies. She’s been on my side of things and we’ve understood each other so well. It’s her turn to have it all and I wish her the best birthday, the best wedding and the best life.

Happy Birthday J.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




A blinking light on my phone means a message, love, information, a long lost friend, something unexpected until, I CAN’T GET INTO MY VOICEMAIL!

I’d had issues with my phone for about a month. Automatic online bill payment got messed up and therefore I was behind and so my issues with my phone service began. I cleared all that up a few weeks ago, but then yesterday, I couldn’t get into my voicemail. So, I called my phone service for help. I called close to their closing hour and instead of helping me get into my voicemail the guy helped me find a cheaper package. “OK,” I said and went through the whole thing. I still couldn’t get into my voicemail when I finished with him and so the guy gave me a repair number to call which upon calling said it was a non working number. I’d have to wait another day to get those messages blinking on my phone. The anticipation was getting to me, but I was able to sleep through it.

Coming home today, the blinking light beckoned so I quickly called my phone service and the first person I talked to gave me a number to call. I couldn’t understand why that didn’t happen yesterday. I set up my voicemail so that when you call this is what you hear, “This is Anna. You are fabulous for calling me, but I’m not fabulous enough to talk to you right now. Leave a message. Bye.” I know it’s cheesy. After going through the setup I was able to finally get to my messages and what waited for me, what was blinking for 3 straight days was disappointment. There was a friend who I’d already spoken to, a hang up, and then a computer message from my phone service. I tell ya, sometimes, the anticipation, the absence of the thing makes the heart beat louder and faster with anticipation when really, it's nothing but imagination.



i can pick ‘em

While I’m not nominated for a damn thing (that’s ok, I didn’t expect my little-blog-that-could to be nominated), I’d like to point out that a good amount of the links on the right were. Go to the bloggies to get the whole list. And vote because these bloggers deserve it. They certainly entertain me.



happy birthday kusa

Kusa is my cousin. Her family nickname comes from our Aunt A. who was sitting beside B. when she was a baby and her family drove over the Coosa River in Alabama. Aunt A. looked at the precious baby beside her and called her her little Coosa Jane. When B. grew up she adopted the name, but chose to misspell it. We love her anyway.

The girl is gorgeous. She’s got curly dirty blond hair and a size 4 body. She does Pilates everyday and it shows. She’s beautiful, but it’s not her outside that counts. She beautiful on the inside too.

She loves people and new places. She’ll talk to you for hours and make you feel better when you’re down. She’s a cheerleader and supporter and all around good friend. She thinks real hard, but lives real easy. She’s seems light hearted and easy going, but deep down she’s thinking about what this world really means and what the hell we are all doing here and how she can make her and your day a better one.

She’s creative as hell and gets this from her mother. She makes presents instead of buying them because she knows this is how real love is shown. She signs her pictures with “Kusa.” I am proud to own an original.

Boys fall hard for her. Why wouldn’t they? She’s the whole package and then some. She’s not sure about the whole commitment thing either, but she’s a good long-termer. We love the boys she picks too; they’re kind and fun and always compliment her. I hope she finds the best one yet. She deserves roses everyday and kind words and chill music and road trips and a craft room. But, she’ll make all that happen for herself anyway.

She’s committed to her work with trouble youth and I know they are so freaking lucky to have her in their lives. She’ll make a huge difference for them and be a great role model. She’s certainly done that for me and I love the hell out of her. I wish I lived closer to her and I wish I were at her party right now.

Happy Birthday Kusa Jane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



virginia is for lovers

It is snowing outside. The second day of snow which calms and warms me. That’s a strange thing, that snow warms me, but it does. It promises things like down comforters, days off of work, slowing down, hot chocolate, soup, knitting, and movies.

It’s one of the reasons why I love Virginia, the weather. Virginia provides the variety of four full seasons. Summer is hot and muggy with frequent thunderstorms. Fall is crisp with many colored leaves crunching underfoot. Spring warms the air and bursts forth its life with brilliant, bright colors. But winter, my favorite, brings cold nights and snow.

There hasn’t been a time when I didn’t love snow. It isn’t a nuisance, it doesn’t scare me to drive in, it’s a great thing to play in, and great thing to eat. When I was child, we made snow cream. We’d get a big bowl, go outside and scoop up fresh snow then run inside quickly to add milk, sugar and vanilla. We’d eat it until it turned to soup, which happened pretty quickly. This was before we understood about acid rain and we trusted that our snow was clean and healthy. Now, I wouldn’t eat snow if you paid me. And yes, I know not to eat the yellow snow, thanks.

For two straight nights, I had dinner with my nieces and nephew because the weather brings on comfort food and there is no better food to share. Tonight, I gave the girls a bath, my favorite thing to do because when a 2 year-old trusts you to wash her hair without fuss, you know you have accomplished something. I even put the 2 year-old to bed, with her mother in the next room. It was amazing that there was no crying for her mother, but I’m sure she was just exhausted. Sometimes, on days like these, days with snow and happy children and good food, I wish for a family of my own. One day maybe, one day.



happy birthday b.c.

B. is a long time friend from college. I met her through another roommate who ended up being an evil person. B., however, is an angel, a saint. When we lived together we had our own wing of an apartment. There were many days when I would go looking for B. and there she was, in her room, up in her study loft, a book in her lap, fast asleep.

She is a nurse and an amazing one at that. She was honored in college by all sorts of organizations, even secret ones. She is modest in her achievements, but she works her ass off. She is committed to doing her job well. And now, after more schooling, she is a nurse practitioner and can prescribe drugs. She’s my new best friend!

She loves “I Love Lucy” and every time I see a show I think of B. I think of sharing a bathroom area with her and all the hairspray residue that landed on my sink. I remember the line of guys calling and sending her presents from Tiffany’s. And I remember a story about a cop in an elevator. And I remember how she loved Captain Morgan’s.

She’s married now and on her way to making a family. T. is a great guy who loves her dearly. He asked her to marry him through a letter that she read while they walked together on the beach. He’s amazing and a great-designated driver when B. and I have had too much to drink at wedding we never attended. He’ll even stop at 7-11 on the way home to buy us more booze and munchies. He’s a winner and so is B.

I’m happy to know her and I’m happy she’s slightly older than me. Every week counts! Happy Birthday B.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



i'm sorry 2005

M., I'm sorry for not being nice. Just email me.



i have no idea what is wrong with me

I was fine all day until around 6:35pm. Maybe I was coming down from the sugar high induced by the 2nd piece of chocolate ice cream cake from my nieces 4 year-old birthday party. But, something just snapped. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment all weekend, by choice. Sometimes, I just need to get away and hide so this weekend was the weekend that that got done. It all sounds fabulous and relaxing in the beginning. Friday night was “spa night” where I used products on my body, face, and hair that are reserved for once a month detailing. Saturday I was going to go to the gym to do some yoga, but when my nap interfered with that plan I decided to have a complete veg. out day. I watched TV for like 12 hours straight. That is no good, especially since there were no veg. out movies on. What is wrong with people who plan weekend television? Don’t they know that single girls need a channel devoted to chick flicks 24-7? And if not a channel, then for hells sake, give us a weekend!!!!!! Today was interrupted by the birthday party then dinner at my sister-in-laws parents’ house. After dinner I decided I would go see Phantom of the Opera. Yes, by myself. I do this. It makes me powerful and fabulous. I was psyched cause it’s one of my favorite musicals and seeing it on the big screen was getting me all anxious. I even brought my knitting. That’s right, I knit in the movie theatre. More fabulousness, now shut it! But, when I walked up to the ticket counter 15 minutes early I saw that the movie had already started, the listing on the internet had the wrong time. I was miffed, then I saw the word “sold.” I was crushed. I scanned the other movies, but they were buddy movies, ones you go see with friends. Phantom was a loner movie and I was sad. I drove down Broad toward home knowing that I would pass another movie theatre and check their time. No Phantom was listed, crushed again. So, I decided to go Barnes and Noble, one of my favorite places and to which I even have a gift card. But, after perusing the isles of cheap books and the chick lit and the bestsellers, I found nothing. In fact, this wave of hopelessness came over me and in the middle of Barnes and Noble with Allison Krauss lulling in the background, I had the urge to fall to my knees, hands raised and scream “I have no idea what is wrong with me.” Then I went home, dissatisfied and still a little confused. Maybe I’m just lonely. Maybe a weekend of shutting out the world is not a good thing. Maybe I’m just pre-menstrual. If so, watch out!



i resolve not to resolve

In the year 2005 I resolve to:
Sell myself on ebay.

Get your resolution here.



the great sellout

Yeah, it's happened, I've caved. I just couldn't trust Amazon wishlist to keep my ananimity, but Google is always good to me, just look around here. Google is the king. And they use Macs. Love those guys. So, for the sellout portion of the evening just look to the right you'll see something that wasn't there before and this something might just help me buy an iPod because I refuse to use my own money to do that. Want to help me? Just wander through the internet via those precious words down there. And do that alot. And thanks.



a bridge too far

I cross a bridge every morning to work. On one side is a gorgeous view of the river and based on whether I can see rocks peeking out I can tell the river’s level. On the other side is a beautiful train bridge, made of grey concrete with these amazing arches that support the flat surface for the rails. Every morning I look to the right and check the river level then look to the left and marvel at the manmade creation. Every afternoon I do the opposite.

When I started working in Richmond I was coming from a very stressful teaching situation, one in which I would throw up before school. I knew that Richmond would be better for me, and it has been tenfold, but when I got my school placements and charted my daily path I gave myself an ultimatum that I would never be so stressed out that I could not look left and right and enjoy the view on my way in. I have never missed a view, partly because it has become habit. Even when I cross the bridge at night to go visit friends, I look right then left. I have never missed a view, until today.

The reason is silly. Since winter break, my sleep schedule has been wacko. I am such a night person that staying up until 2am is natural for me, but it’s not good when you have to be up by 8am. So, last week I’d barely make it in to work then come home and take a nap then barely make it in then come home and take and nap and so on and so on. I was hoping the weekend would fix it, but I took naps then too. Yesterday was awful. I didn’t even realize I was that tired, but I napped for 4 1/2 hours. That’s bad. I then got up and had so much energy that I cleaned 2 rooms and did 3 loads of laundry. But of course, I couldn’t go back to sleep so this morning, after oversleeping by 10 minutes I raced out the door in a sleep filled haze and crossed the river with no looking to either side of me. At least I think I didn’t look, maybe I did, but I was so exhausted I can’t remember. All I was thinking about was the end of the day and coming home to take a nap.



another thousand words

So I haven’t felt like writing long things lately, actually in a long time. Today, I’m blessing you with pictures because they say more that I ever could.

My old dog who lives with my parents. I miss her.

My nephew’s drawing after his 2nd baby sister was born. Precious.

My favorite Christmas card I’ve ever eaten. Pure chocolate, baby!

My knitting sitting on the side of my armchair. Waiting.

Atlantic Beach, NC. Like no other.

My long lashes in a cool grimy photo.



i never had imaginary friends

There must be elves in my house, left over from Christmas. Santa must have dropped then off, even though he left nothing else behind here, especially presents. There just have to be elves here and they only come out at night when I’m sleeping or during the day when I’m at work. They must know exactly the moment I awake or open the door and they scatter, scatter like the wind. Why they are here I don’t know, but I know what they are doing. They are sewing the seams of my pants tighter. They are jumping on top of me when I stand on the scales. They are evil elves, defunct AWALs who couldn’t hack it with the big man at the pole. They suck. And I’m sure it’s elves, because it couldn’t possibly be the red velvet cake, mary alice cookies, noel nut balls, cheese ring and crackers, holiday wrapped candies, sausage, biscuits, eggs, pork tenderloin, grits, apple pie, wine, beer, potato salad, sausage gravy, more biscuits, peppermint mochas, eggnog lattes, eggnog ice cream and just plain eggnog that I ate during the month of December. I let December be a free month and now I live with elves. Elves stink and I’m hoping that January and the gym kicks their bottoms, but first, I think I have to get my bottom up. Darn it all to elves.



a wave of help

I want to blog about things that fill up my everyday, like the clothes I returned today that my poor Mom tried so hard to buy for me for Christmas, or that fact that I need to seriously be thinking about getting back to the gym (notice I said "thinking"), but then I realize that I filled my car up with gas today and a Nalgene bottle with filtered water and took a shower. These things are little foreign objects to those devastated by the Tsunami. So, in the American spirit, let's donate. You can do it right here. And thanks.



change of mind

Lips in the header, eyes in the sidebar. A girl is allowed to change her mind. The lips are just more apropo of "the gap." Don't you think?



a gift

A little picture in the header for you. I know what it's like to read and read and have no picture in your head. So, a glimpse of my eye and that's all folks.



dear sir,

I have a crush. It’s on you.

You’ve shown up on my New Year’s Eves for the last two years. I remember exactly the moment that I noticed you. It wasn’t anything spectacular. You weren’t saving a child from a burning building. You simply walked into the room and opened your mouth. My heart sat up and said,“who’s that” and the hairs on the back of my head stood on end. From then on it’s been hard getting you out of my head. I get better and better at forgetting you and then you show up again and there goes another few months of waiting until you are at the back of mind again. I wasn’t ready for this and honestly it quite sucks.

I normally run from boys, especially the single ones. If a single boy says “hello” to me then I usually do an about face and leave the room because the “hellos” lead to “how are you” and then “would you like to have a drink sometime” and then dating (and who has time for that) and then marriage (and who needs all that commitment) and then children (and while I love them I don’t want them in my house 24-7 under my care).

But, with you sir, I want all the “hellos” your breath can offer. I want the “how are you’s” every morning. I want to sit beside you and talk about everything. I want to know about your eyes and whether you mother doted on them when you were a child and told you they were the color of the sea. I want to run my fingers through your hair because no one should have such amazing hair devoid of fingers running through it. I want to listen to music with you for hours on end and decipher the undecipherable lyrics. I want to talk to you on the phone all through the night until the morning because you live a world away from me. I want to visit you and brighten up your home with girly things and I want you to move here and be here and let this happen and above all I want to tell you all these things, but I am so absolutely scared. You’ve shaken my unshakable world kind sir and I’d like to have it back on steady ground please.


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