A poem for my brother, the Doodlebug.

I'm a doodle doodlebug
And I doodle everyday
The teacher says to stop
But my pen will not obey
I need to pay attention,
I know this is the case
But if I can't doodle on my paper,
I might just doodle on my face.
And that would be distracting
To see my face covered in ink.
So please be understanding
And look past my doodling.


I wrote this for my little brother. He has a very unfortunate habit of doodling in class. Thank goodness he has the talent to justify it.

The season of sunroofs, sneakers, and splendor

I officially broke out my A Fine Frenzy cd/ Pandora station yesterday and so it must be Spring!  I love this time of year. Everything is all robin's egg blue and cloud white. It smells like the earth before the rain, and sunsets are at their most golden yellow until fall. Spring also means to arrival of all the most beautiful clothes in the shops I dare not enter lest I am forced to file for bankruptcy. Thoughts of sail boats ( a superfluous thought for a landlocked girl from the Midwest), lilacs, long walks out of doors with my walking buddy, Taki, or my faithful iPhone and earbuds, cute sneakers with rolled up jeans, driving with my sunroof open, God's blanket of sunny warmth against my skin, and opening the windows in my room to let the sunshine and its friend, spring breeze, in to play.
I also get those familiar annual yearnings to spend the Spring in the English countryside.  And pretend I'm Elizabeth Bennet or some such other beautiful nonsense.
All of this to say HAPPY SPRING!!! Do yourself a favor and walk out of your beckoning doors and breathe in the scent of this most gorgeous of God's season...it will make you feel better. If you feel so led, do a little dance...it will make you feel silly, outlandish, young, carefree, and brilliant, even if  only for a moment.
At the very least, put on some happy music, open your front door, and let in the beauty of this season of beginnings. And don't forget to thank the One who spoke such breathtaking splendor into being.

Uncomfortable Verbiage

I've heard it said that writers thrive on their own. I'm inclined to agree. I love to be alone. That's not to say that I do not enjoy being with people, but I only enjoy it if there's a few. And as long as they are someone I'm comfortable with. If I don't really know you, or there are a lot of people that I'm not familiar with...well, then we have a problem. You see, I am a girl, and as such I am obsessively insecure and I feel the need to be perceived in a certain way(i.e, pretty, smart, funny, nice-smelling, not an idiot). So naturally, I think that if I tell you as much about myself as is physically possible inside of a 1 minute, 45 second time frame you will now have the requisite information needed in order to judge me correctly. Yep, I'm an "over-sharer".  If you have been on the receiving end of this...I apologize. I can't stop it. It just happens. I will be sitting there, growing more and more insecure by the second until...BAM! My brain shuts down and my mouth takes over. Some of you know this by experience. If you are one of the lucky ones who have been spared this fate, let me break it down for you in this week's episode of Adventures in Uncomfortable Verbal Overflow.
    I was asked, this past week, a simple question that required, at maximum, a two-sentence reply. I was desperately trying to control my You-Need-To-Know-This impulse, but I could feel my ears going red and I knew the moment of verbal-abundance was imminent. Sure enough, for some reason, my mouth had the idea that I should fill this nice person in on the last five years of my life. Why, you ask? I honestly have no earthly idea. The worst part is that I can see that look on their face that says "I don't remember asking for this information. Why is she telling me this? Wait...what did I ask her?" I then realize that my brain is dozing and frantically try to find the off-button for my jaw while attempting to shut down the flow of data. The problem being, I'm in the middle of a story, and when I just stop talking they become even more confused because now, I've become completely silent and more awkward, and they probably think they've missed a part of the conversation, but they really haven't, and now everyone is uncomfortable and unsure of what to say and it's just a mess.
The kicker is that when I determine to just shut up and let everyone else do the talking, I walk away feeling so much less of an idiot. I like feeling like a non-idiot. It's re-affirming.
And to anyone who would like to piously quote the verse stating, "A fool uttereth his whole mind", or point out that, yes, this post is in fact another example of my humiliating disorder...Please don't.  I would inevitably become insecure and be forced to correct your assumption by telling you about my first pet fish, Wilbur, or something else you really don't need to know.

Just a little something I found...

So, I found this recently. I wrote it about a year ago I think...It's me. In a nutshell. A wordy nutshell.

To travel far and far away
Has longtime been my dream

To see the lights in yonder skies
And bask in foreign moonlight's gleam.

To run through verdant pastures in
A land awash in colors bright

To step into the ocean and feel
it's pull and never-ceasing might.

To feel the sun, warm and quickening
On some forgotten sand-filled shore,

And fall in love in a cafe where
hundreds have done the same before.

To feel the rush of wind
Against my face turned to the storm.

And walk in paths that, through the years,
Sojourner's weary feet have formed.

To live, and see, and not just know,
That surely is my heart.

Yet dreaming will not take me there
And so I must depart.