Wow, 365 days ago I decided to begin a journey on this website that included making time each day to journal, rant, gush, or just talk through the happenings of my life.  Originally the goal was to write every day for the month of November, and once that ended I just couldn’t stop.  As I’ve read back over the past fews days at the highlights and struggles of this last year, I realize just how blessed I am to have an outlet for processing and documenting my little moments.

I’m sure to many the concept of blogging must be a lot like the musical encore, a desperate cry for attention and affirmation.  (Seriously, why do we even scream for the encore.  We know it’s gonna happen.)  Yet, for me even if everyone stopped reading my words on their computer screen, I don’t think I could cease writing.  Some of hardest days and saddest moments have been laid to rest here.  I’ve taken verbal snapshots of the best times of my life, so that they will never be forgotten.  Most importantly, I’ve found a home for me.  So as a new November begins this morning, I’m not going to make a huge pledge to post every day.  There’s just no need. Instead, I’m going to keep on expressing me and hope that a few of you might be touched, entertained or inspired along the way.

One of the rules in my house growing up was that we were required to write thank you notes for all of our birthday and Christmas gifts before we could fully enjoy them.  It was a simple lesson in gratitude and etiquette that I’ve tried to continue even in my adult life.  “When people do nice things for you, the appropriate response is a heart-felt thank you.” Mom couldn’t have been more right not that I’m surprised by that.

After I finally dragged my butt out of my big comfy bed on Sunday morning, I (like a kid on Christmas morning) couldn’t wait to open my gifts and read what my guest bloggers had written for me while I was away.  Four of my closest friends in their own way and voice presented me (and all of you) with the simple gift of a different perspective than you get to see around here. Yet, what amazed me was that somehow each of them had missed the memo that they were doing me a favor.  Here I am asking for their time… for their words and thoughts… and they’re the honored ones?  The ones who are panicked?  Who feel privileged?  I’m the one who was overwhelmed with your generosity.  Who was moved by your willingness to put your lives on hold to help me out.  Who needs to be screamin’ from the rooftops, “THANK YOU!!!”  I truly adore each of you.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, and a special thank you for keeping this place pink.

Cory, as usual, made me laugh as he confessed his epic failures to the ‘Pink Nation’. (I have a feeling his panic at forgetting to post was what caused the extreme amount of WoW jargon.) Lauren, of course, was Lauren.  So lovable and genuine that you want to sip cups of coffee with her and see how she brightens your day.  HeatherBee, my musical soulmate, let’s take another road trip together.  We could load up our iPods and open our souls to one another with each rhythm and rhymes.  What do you say?  Eric, well you did spice things up about with your willingness to touch a subject I’ve left alone for months, but to be honest, I never expected to be called out on my own blog.

Over and over for the past few months I’ve been reciting the line to Mr. Blues and others that I’m ‘waiting’ for the debates to decide who gets my vote.  Honestly, that was BS; he was right.  My mind’s been made up for quite sometime, but I’ve been subconsciously holding out for a miracle.  I’ve never once had an issue believing what I believe, and for any of you who know me, I never hesitate to let my voice be heard.  But lately, I’ve felt like the lone kid on the block who knows that Santa Claus isn’t real.  I’ve been begging to be swept away and be a part of the excitement that has infected so many of my generation, and that’s just not going to happen.

It’s time for me to be honest with myself and quit hoping the rulebook will be rewritten and I’ll wind up at the popular kids’ table. Despite our differences, the teenage-like peer pressure to hang with the cool kids, and our preconceived notions of what red and blue voters look like, I have to hope for a middle ground that allows excitement to pair up with wise decisions where stiff Conservatives dance with spry Liberals even if I won’t be sitting on Santa’s lap this November.  So, while I’ll never be a political pundit, I will stop being a liar when it comes to my choices and beliefs. Who knew that a simple guest blogging task could unearth such hidden revelations.  Thanks, EB, and thanks to each and every one of you for being so kind to these four who mean so much to me (now I’m sounding like JM.)

Greetings Pink Nation,
I have been given the honor and the privilege of being the first guest blogger that Laurel allowed to post on the site. How do I repay the generosity of the person who not only allowed me to post on her beloved website, but is hosting mine nearly-free of charge? By completely forgetting to do it. Ha HA!!…Epic Fail.
I could lie to you can say that I was doing something worthwhile. I could say that I was doing homework, or volunteering down at an animal shelter, or I could tell you that I was rescuing a child from a storm drain ala George Clooney in ER. Sadly I was doing none of those things; I was playing WoW and watching Monday Night Football. Honestly, it wasn’t really my fault…This guildmate of mine needed some help with quests in Hellfire, so I went over there and there was an Alliance Rogue in our area so he decided to kill her. After that she called in her friends, I called in my friends…and eventually it escalated into a full-scale war across the entire zone!! I HAD to defend the honor of the Horde and protect the weak lowbies! It was for a worthy and righteous cause; this Alliance aggression cannot stand. I lost you at “guildmate” didn’t I? Crap…But the Football game was really good too. T.O. may be a total thug, but he can sure play some Football. Ohh well, suffice it to say that I’m sorry and don’t blame Laurel for my forgetfulness (I’m sure the next bloggers will be better than me anyway).
So, enjoy the rest of the week with the other guest bloggers. Maybe if Laurel has forgiven me and texts me back I’ll figure out how to make a post appear to be posted yesterday. Until then, good luck dear readers, try to suffer through the week as best you can, Laurel will be back soon enough.
Cory

Hello, intarweb.  I’ve been missing you.  It seems like such a long time since we’ve spent time together back before that thing called moving happened.  ‘Moving’ what a vile word.  A word that has meant countless bruises on my body… long nights of unpacking and rearranging… and friends weary of my requests for assitance. Since we’ve last spoken, Zac and Cory (with the help of a few friends) have taken the great leap to administering their own little place within you, and I’m positive you’ll treat them kindly. I, on the otherhand, have neglected you due in large to a certain company that will go nameless (QWEST) and their complete incompetence.  There is really no way that after confirming my order three times they should have disconnected you from my life instead of transferring you to my new address.  I should not have been forced to live without you for seven days waiting, hoping, and eventually raging at customer service agents so that we could be reunited.

The move is not only going well but almost finished.  Thanks for asking.  My parents are currently enjoying the luxury of my new apartment as my mom sews curtains for the spare bedroom and my dad watches the Sci-Fi channel.  Zac is suppsed to drive up this way in the next few days to spend time in the cool air of Flagstaff and excape the heat of the desert. I think the main reason he’s driving here is so that he can finally see The Dark Knight, but I won’t complain about getting to see it again. Tomorrow we should finish cleaning the old apartment so that I can turn my keys in and start the week off living in once place and not two.  Won’t that be awesome!  As for now, though, I should get back to spending time with dad before he decides that he should retire and move in with me to be my newest roommate.  But, let’s be honest.  There’s probably way too much pink and way too few animals for his taste.  PTL!

Notice something wrong with this picture?  Oh, yeah.  The Internet light is off on my DSL modem.  Still.  Qwest somehow didn’t transfer my service but instead disconnected it.  To add insult to injury, the normal time to reconnect a disconnect service is 7-10 days.  Even after raging at four supervisers, I’m still not able to be connected until Thurs or Fri.

So for now I’m blogging and connecting on 52Kbps dial-up.  Thank you free university dial-up.  I remember a time not too long ago when I could only dial-up from my parents house at less than 19.2Kbps.  Yet, somehow that seemed worlds faster than this speed.  I’m definitely learning to appreciate high-speed connections.  At least until I have DSL again, I have Bravo and the new joys of Shear Genius and Project Runway.  Talk about addictive.

Consider this my official SOS. Day #2 with no internet. Thanks, Qwest. You’re the best. You can pay my hospital bills from the damage caused to my thumbs from posting from my phone.

My dating relationship history is one of the favorite joking points of my family.  From the one who loved buttons and collared shirts to the one who almost killed a whole church by feeding them undercooked fried chicken, there is good reason that this is my Achilles’ heel in family roasting sessions.  In recent years, I knew a guy who found a few quirks in my personality that annoyed the heck out of him and strongly recommended that I change.  (As you can guess, this relationship never really got off the ground.)  First of all, he hated sports and believed that sports fans were less intelligent.  Of course, I am a sports junkie who sees no issue with screamin’ at the television or honoring a period of mourning when my favorite team loses.  Next, he called me melodramatic because I happen to like certain tv shows that might have sad moments in them that may or may not make me cry.  He felt the need to remind me that those shows aren’t real and too many ‘girls’ sit around waiting for McDreamy to show up on their doorstep which never happens and so they grow old with cats.  Did I want to grow old with cats??? Because the enjoyment of fictional story lines = me living alone forever.

Yet, the biggest issue he had with me was my relationship with music.  He couldn’t understand the way I identified moods and happenings in my life with certain songs.  He would hulk-rage when I jokingly quoted lyrics at him that fit the moment.  I believe his exact words were, “Adults use their own words and not some pansy song.  Why don’t you listen to real music… heavy metal.”  (Hmmm let me think.  Because I’d rather shove a chopstick in my ear.  That’s why.)  He considered music as background noise and not a extension of who you are.   To me, music has always been the ability to express emotions with words I’d never be brave to say on my own.  It has been my wingman, confidante, and consoler when things are tough, and he just couldn’t grasp that.

So why am I exposing the dating skeletons in my closet?  Because it’s been a weird week here in Laurelland and where usually I would use music to unclog my small bout of writer’s/gusher’s block, I’ve found myself struggling to find the right music to quench my thirst. For the first time in a long time, I haven’t had a go-to song that told the world and silently affirmed within me how I was feeling.  That is until this song popped up on the shuffle feature of my iPod as I was getting ready for bed tonight. Knowing that you are much more accepting of me than a certain unnamed music hater, I present to you my Thursday music post. Even if this song does nothing for you, I hope somewhere in the next few days you find something that describes how you feel this perfectly.

Casting Crowns - “Your Love Is Extravagant”