Today on my bike ride I feasted on at least 30 bugs. Good thing too...'cause that power bar just wasn't holding me over. I literally had to wipe the smooshed insects off of my arms and legs when I got home. Now I know how poor Cracker Jack must feel after a long road trip. I need to hook myself up with one of those funeral face veils or something like unto one. What do you think....I could pull this off with a helmet, no?
March 29, 2008
mmmm.....delish
Today on my bike ride I feasted on at least 30 bugs. Good thing too...'cause that power bar just wasn't holding me over. I literally had to wipe the smooshed insects off of my arms and legs when I got home. Now I know how poor Cracker Jack must feel after a long road trip. I need to hook myself up with one of those funeral face veils or something like unto one. What do you think....I could pull this off with a helmet, no?
March 27, 2008
sparkling spelunking
When rad meets radder...you know glow-in-the-dark rainbow paint, the middle of the night, and a miles deep volcanic cave have to be involved. I'm putting last night's underground, razzle-dazzle-y, paint- yourself-and-a-cave-with-glowstick-goop game of sardines in my top 5 favorite things i have ever done. Like ever.
March 26, 2008
dear gwen, amen.
"Sometimes it’s so hard to find what it is I’m trying to say.
People might think you can turn creativity on and off,
but it’s not like that. It just kinda comes out,
a mash-up of all these things you collect in your mind.
You never know when it’s gonna happen, but when it does…
it’s like MAGIC.
It’s just that simple, and it’s just that hard."
-G.S.
March 19, 2008
isteal wednesday
Here's to Angie for finding this rad video, and then not killing me when I just plop it right off her blog into this post. In case you didn't get the memo, frozen people are way radder than moving people. Obviously. And my new favorite human is the guy on the cart. "I can't move! There's frozen people everywhere! Nevermind..."
March 18, 2008
itunes tuesday
(be forewarned, I cut out all the parts that when this song comes on in the car and I don't know the words, tends to cause frustration and anger and leads to the cutting them out of my blog.)
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
All I wanna do is
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Bicycle race
Bicycle! Bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
and I do. It is WARM.
March 17, 2008
chickety china, the chinese chicken
Sam and Ella's Chicken Palace. Sam and Ella's Chicken Palace. Nope....not getting any better. Palace or not (although it is a nice touch), I still never want to visit you. But maybe that's just because I'm so in love with Mr. Edmond Coli's Beef Bistro. Mmmmmmmmm......
Also, before I close up the discussion on the news I'd like to throw in my two cents about the one exception to my usual loathing of good ole' fashioned gossip, and that is when these entertainment shows do stories about the "stupid-need-to-back-off paparazzi"...who are they. Or to say it more plainly...who they are. They are them. They are they. This seems to happen frequently and each time it does I want to yell at the screen, "Hey people! You doing this story is like me doing a story about how awesome people should stop being so awesome all the time!" Or to say it more plainly...I am awesome.
Peace.
March 15, 2008
Bub
My mom turns the big five-oh today. I was gonna crack some joke about how she looks 27, but let's be honest...when you have 50 years of wisdom under your belt, you should shout it from the rooftops. You should make sure EVERYONE knows that you are fifty and be proud like Simba of it. No? I'll let you know for sure in 30 years....
Also in the plan for today was to list 50 things I love about this lady, one for every year she's lived. But due to a lack of power cord, I am paying per minute for internet access and so due to lack of funding, not lack of loves....here are 16 reasons I lalalalove Ms. Barbara Nelson Muirhead, one for every year I lived before getting a brain:
1. The way she hums songs throughout the day.
2. When she says, "Don't should on yourself"
3. Her piano skills...ahoy Mozart.
4. Her love of gardening, which incidentally leads to my love of our garden.
5. This woman can read a book in like 7 minutes. She pretty much owns the library.
6. "The look" Well, I love it when it is directed at someone other than myself.
7. She lets me make up my own religion, guilt free...and even contributes speculatory doctrines on occasion.
8. She'll play Memory with me even though she HATES it (but just cause I win every time.)
9. She cuts her own hair.
10. She can type approximately 400 wpm. We made her take an official speed test this week and I quote, "Wait! I ran out of words!"
11. She is always in attendance at my pity parties.
12. She lets you be a sore loser when she whips your pants at Scrabble.
13. She gives free therapy to anyone who wants it. All day long.
14. She is saving the world one person at a time....aka her African children, all the letters she writes, Amnesty International, the neighbors, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.
15. I'm pretty sure you would do anything, and I'm pretty sure I mean anything for a bite of her chocolate chip cookies.
16. She is one of maybe 2 people I know who truly NEVER places judgements or expectations of any kind on anyone.
17. She's just all kinds of awesomeness....one cool chick. :) heh heh. Palm Tree.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMA!
March 14, 2008
update
Shannon just called to say she borrowed my shoes one day in Jr. High and spent a Sunday afternoon looking for a kitten at the church. Ha ha ha ha! Laughing out loud.
March 12, 2008
call me Sydney Bristow part 2
a) I am on Spring Break
b) I am bored out of my mind
c) I am in pain
d) I just want to and it's my blog so I'll do what I want
Today I went to the dentist. I hate the dentist. Not so much in a "strawberry milk....not my favorite" kind of way, but more of like a "Renee Zellwegger in anything...slit my wrists and do push-ups" kind of a way. That much plus about 12. Because of my emotional allergies to all things dentistry, and my dislove of things that go "bzzweeeeeeeeyyyeee
aaaaakkkkkiieeeeebzzaaahhhhhhhhhhkkkaaaaaayyyyaaahhhaaaaaahhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!!!!!!!!!!".... a few years ago I devised a strategem which enables me to make it through an appointment with no deaths involved...my own or of evil (but nonetheless innocent...sort of) hygenisists...or as I call them, Satan's minions of darkness.
I don't know how many of you are fans of Alias, but I for one certainly am. Being such has schooled me in the ways and means of torture. It's sad, but it's true. I know torture. And when it comes to such circumstances, if you are to be Sydney Anne Bristow, the best agent in the CIA, the cream of the crop, the creme de la creme, you must be fearless. You must not show your anxiety when they send in the masked and gloved interrigators! You must prevail!
As I am lead to the dungeon, I keep an expression of stone upon my face. I am not afraid, I will not speak. We enter the room...a single chair stands solitary in the center. The enemy's tools are layed out an orderly fashion...no doubt a tactical ploy to evoke fear in the hearts of the less Bristow-ish. I am seated and a bib of sorts is strapped around my neck...I can only imagine to catch the blood.
"Okay, Open up" a minion cackles.
"I won't tell you anything! Do you hear me?! I'm not speaking!"
She whirls on some sort of spinning, screaming contraption.
"You'll have to kill me first! Die! Gaaghh!!"
Suddenly, I wake up and realize I have been gassed! How dare they! Did I speak? What did I tell them? Have they used Veritaserum? Am I cross-fantasizing here? And more importantly....what flavor did they use? The anger settles in...one cannot prove their bravery if gas masked! Oooohhhh the injustice.
Okay, so maybe they never gassed me, and maybe all the screaming occurred only in my head...but it DID occur, and that's my point. It works people... and if you happen to get a little carried away, your dentist might hate you and ban you, but you'll feel way more bad and rad, and better than all those narcissists who chose to inflict pain on lesser souls for a living.
c) I am in pain
d) I just want to and it's my blog so I'll do what I want
Today I went to the dentist. I hate the dentist. Not so much in a "strawberry milk....not my favorite" kind of way, but more of like a "Renee Zellwegger in anything...slit my wrists and do push-ups" kind of a way. That much plus about 12. Because of my emotional allergies to all things dentistry, and my dislove of things that go "bzzweeeeeeeeyyyeee
aaaaakkkkkiieeeeebzzaaahhhhhhhhhhkkkaaaaaayyyyaaahhhaaaaaahhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!!!!!!!!!!".... a few years ago I devised a strategem which enables me to make it through an appointment with no deaths involved...my own or of evil (but nonetheless innocent...sort of) hygenisists...or as I call them, Satan's minions of darkness.
I don't know how many of you are fans of Alias, but I for one certainly am. Being such has schooled me in the ways and means of torture. It's sad, but it's true. I know torture. And when it comes to such circumstances, if you are to be Sydney Anne Bristow, the best agent in the CIA, the cream of the crop, the creme de la creme, you must be fearless. You must not show your anxiety when they send in the masked and gloved interrigators! You must prevail!
As I am lead to the dungeon, I keep an expression of stone upon my face. I am not afraid, I will not speak. We enter the room...a single chair stands solitary in the center. The enemy's tools are layed out an orderly fashion...no doubt a tactical ploy to evoke fear in the hearts of the less Bristow-ish. I am seated and a bib of sorts is strapped around my neck...I can only imagine to catch the blood.
"Okay, Open up" a minion cackles.
"I won't tell you anything! Do you hear me?! I'm not speaking!"
She whirls on some sort of spinning, screaming contraption.
"You'll have to kill me first! Die! Gaaghh!!"
Suddenly, I wake up and realize I have been gassed! How dare they! Did I speak? What did I tell them? Have they used Veritaserum? Am I cross-fantasizing here? And more importantly....what flavor did they use? The anger settles in...one cannot prove their bravery if gas masked! Oooohhhh the injustice.
Okay, so maybe they never gassed me, and maybe all the screaming occurred only in my head...but it DID occur, and that's my point. It works people... and if you happen to get a little carried away, your dentist might hate you and ban you, but you'll feel way more bad and rad, and better than all those narcissists who chose to inflict pain on lesser souls for a living.
March 11, 2008
one time...
One time I joined the tennis team having never played before and won 2nd place at regionals.
One time Ryan gave his friend's mom a couple of framed photos he had taken and she started taking them out of the frame so she could put her own in because she thought they were the demos that came with the frames.
One time Shannon and I spent the night in a HOLE, "Big T", for $23, narrowly escaping death so as to not miss an episode of Alias. If I recall correctly there were a number of deadbolts on the door.
One time I saved two fish from imminent death in science class and then forgot to feed them and they died.
One time I missed a much anticipated party looking for a kitten that was stuck in the bushes in my front yard. I would hear it, kneel down to find it and then it would stop meowing. But every time I would give up and start to leave it would meow again! It took me 3 entire hours to discover that my left shoe squeaked just like a kitty when i took a step.
One time I was stretching before a dance class and my hand slipped and I rammed my chin into the floor. It was hilarious and painful. Painfully hilarious.
One time I invented this really awesome flipping trick on my aunt's swingset.
One time I knocked out my two front teeth on a swingset.
One time I dyed my hair the exact color of a lemon drop. And it just so happened to be the same day I met Anthony Hopkins.
One time I had braces. Ohohoho....wait. That was more than one time.
One time I spent the night hauling left over popcorn from all the movie theaters in town and dumping it into my friend's backyard so we could jump off his roof into it.
One time it took 4 days to get all of the butter out of my hair.
One time Shannon broke her butt. I just love saying that. In fact, I am laughing right now. She had to carry around a blue donut cushion everywhere she went.
One time I gave my buddy Garrett the greatest dose of revenge of his life. It involved a non-existent moped, a quiet Sunday morning, and a brilliant post on craigslist by yours truly.
One time I found a fish on the bottom shelf of a bookcase that hadn't been fed for 3 months and revived it. And one time Shannon left her fish (in a bottle) in her car overnight in winter and it froze. She thawed it out with a blow dryer and it lived!
One time fish were pretty much all kinds of awesomeness.
One time Judy Richards thought it would be a great idea to paint "THS" on everyone on the drill team's head with acrylic paint for a football game, and one time we all went to homecoming the next day with green hair.
One time I was ranked 3rd in the world on a minesweeper high scores website. The two people above me were high school kids from Slovakia.
One time Jared told us how stupid we were because we couldn't spell
L-O-V-E-R.
One time my dad was a pilot, and a carpenter, and a camera man, and an editor, and a truck driver, and a computer program instructor, and a landscaper, and about 6 other things. And he can play any sport, and fix anything.
One time I was a super hero offspring.
One time I sort of ran away without telling anyone I was moving to the middle of the Pacific. One time that took a while to blow over.
One time I escaped 6th grade math class with my friend Kirtley by crawling out of the back of the room, and we chased janitors for the good part of an hour, and one time I was dared to shoot a piece of candy off my candy necklace at the whiteboard and one time it hit the teacher, and one time I sprayed silly string all over the vice principal's office and one time I spent most of 6th grade in that office.
One time I got pulled over for breaking about 8 driving laws and still got off the hook. But one time I got a ticket because I had the license plates I had just picked up from the courthouse 10 minutes earlier, IN my car, instead of already ON my car.
One time I got payed $6,000 to take a mystery red pill for 2 months and let them take my blood 56 times.
One time we kneeled in our family room for the most ridiculous amount of time (hours?) waiting for someone to calm down enough to say a prayer without laughing. I don't think we ever got there.
One time my mom payed me $1 for swearing in front of me. Okay, maybe that was like a few hundred times. :)
One time I broke a federal law, but didn't know it. Hope no cops are reading this.
One time at the beginning of the year one of my teachers gave me a CD with all the answers to the tests on it. I still don't know why...but I am the only student who got an A.
One time I counted up how many jobs I have had since I was 16. It was 15.
One time I sat in Borders for 10 hours straight just reading books.
One time my friend Ang and I had a kid convinced we were identical twins. We did look alike in 7th grade and the poor boy sincerely could not tell us apart.
One time I was almost killed up the canyon by a pack of wild horses. I'm not joking. I was alone, and they can run very very fast. Almost faster than me.
One time we had Family Home Evening.
That one time for FHE, we sat around for hours and made Michelle (age 2?) say "sandwich" over and over again because it sounded like "dammit." Things like, "Go get me some food, Sandwich!" were a big hit.
One time someone beat me at Memory. But only once.
One time in 3rd grade a kid I had a crush on used my chapstick. I threw it away 2 months ago. *sigh*
One time I bowled a 39. Okay, so it was last Saturday. One time the employee told me I couldn't have bumpers because I wasn't 10 years old. One time I put them up anyway....so there. Too bad I still got a 39.
One time I got bored of writing this blog.
One time Ryan gave his friend's mom a couple of framed photos he had taken and she started taking them out of the frame so she could put her own in because she thought they were the demos that came with the frames.
One time Shannon and I spent the night in a HOLE, "Big T", for $23, narrowly escaping death so as to not miss an episode of Alias. If I recall correctly there were a number of deadbolts on the door.
One time I saved two fish from imminent death in science class and then forgot to feed them and they died.
One time I missed a much anticipated party looking for a kitten that was stuck in the bushes in my front yard. I would hear it, kneel down to find it and then it would stop meowing. But every time I would give up and start to leave it would meow again! It took me 3 entire hours to discover that my left shoe squeaked just like a kitty when i took a step.
One time I was stretching before a dance class and my hand slipped and I rammed my chin into the floor. It was hilarious and painful. Painfully hilarious.
One time I invented this really awesome flipping trick on my aunt's swingset.
One time I knocked out my two front teeth on a swingset.
One time I dyed my hair the exact color of a lemon drop. And it just so happened to be the same day I met Anthony Hopkins.
One time I had braces. Ohohoho....wait. That was more than one time.
One time I spent the night hauling left over popcorn from all the movie theaters in town and dumping it into my friend's backyard so we could jump off his roof into it.
One time it took 4 days to get all of the butter out of my hair.
One time Shannon broke her butt. I just love saying that. In fact, I am laughing right now. She had to carry around a blue donut cushion everywhere she went.
One time I gave my buddy Garrett the greatest dose of revenge of his life. It involved a non-existent moped, a quiet Sunday morning, and a brilliant post on craigslist by yours truly.
One time I found a fish on the bottom shelf of a bookcase that hadn't been fed for 3 months and revived it. And one time Shannon left her fish (in a bottle) in her car overnight in winter and it froze. She thawed it out with a blow dryer and it lived!
One time fish were pretty much all kinds of awesomeness.
One time Judy Richards thought it would be a great idea to paint "THS" on everyone on the drill team's head with acrylic paint for a football game, and one time we all went to homecoming the next day with green hair.
One time I was ranked 3rd in the world on a minesweeper high scores website. The two people above me were high school kids from Slovakia.
One time Jared told us how stupid we were because we couldn't spell
L-O-V-E-R.
One time my dad was a pilot, and a carpenter, and a camera man, and an editor, and a truck driver, and a computer program instructor, and a landscaper, and about 6 other things. And he can play any sport, and fix anything.
One time I was a super hero offspring.
One time I sort of ran away without telling anyone I was moving to the middle of the Pacific. One time that took a while to blow over.
One time I escaped 6th grade math class with my friend Kirtley by crawling out of the back of the room, and we chased janitors for the good part of an hour, and one time I was dared to shoot a piece of candy off my candy necklace at the whiteboard and one time it hit the teacher, and one time I sprayed silly string all over the vice principal's office and one time I spent most of 6th grade in that office.
One time I got pulled over for breaking about 8 driving laws and still got off the hook. But one time I got a ticket because I had the license plates I had just picked up from the courthouse 10 minutes earlier, IN my car, instead of already ON my car.
One time I got payed $6,000 to take a mystery red pill for 2 months and let them take my blood 56 times.
One time we kneeled in our family room for the most ridiculous amount of time (hours?) waiting for someone to calm down enough to say a prayer without laughing. I don't think we ever got there.
One time my mom payed me $1 for swearing in front of me. Okay, maybe that was like a few hundred times. :)
One time I broke a federal law, but didn't know it. Hope no cops are reading this.
One time at the beginning of the year one of my teachers gave me a CD with all the answers to the tests on it. I still don't know why...but I am the only student who got an A.
One time I counted up how many jobs I have had since I was 16. It was 15.
One time I sat in Borders for 10 hours straight just reading books.
One time my friend Ang and I had a kid convinced we were identical twins. We did look alike in 7th grade and the poor boy sincerely could not tell us apart.
One time I was almost killed up the canyon by a pack of wild horses. I'm not joking. I was alone, and they can run very very fast. Almost faster than me.
One time we had Family Home Evening.
That one time for FHE, we sat around for hours and made Michelle (age 2?) say "sandwich" over and over again because it sounded like "dammit." Things like, "Go get me some food, Sandwich!" were a big hit.
One time someone beat me at Memory. But only once.
One time in 3rd grade a kid I had a crush on used my chapstick. I threw it away 2 months ago. *sigh*
One time I bowled a 39. Okay, so it was last Saturday. One time the employee told me I couldn't have bumpers because I wasn't 10 years old. One time I put them up anyway....so there. Too bad I still got a 39.
One time I got bored of writing this blog.
for h. brown
Once upon a time in a land called Timp Anogo-sigh Park Heenglot, there lived a big friendly giant (with a luscious head of hair I might add) named...well, we'll just call him "Jaron"...for his own protection of identity. Here's his picture: 
Handsome, no?
So, one blistery morning this big friendly giant with great hair (and did I mention he is brilliant? well...you'll see soon enough, carry on) was slightly late for first period (I believe it was Economics 19,000 or no wait! AP Honors Special Smarty Pants Exhalted Beings Chemistry, yes that was it). After speeding his '92 Gold Park Avenue Buick with reckless abandon into his specially reserved "smart kid" stall, he threw it into 'park', grabbed his pack of texts, slammed the door...double checked to make sure it was securely locked (safety first, kids), and took off at a run towards Knowledge Landia.
Here's the part of the movie where we see a montage of Jaron sitting front and center in each of his 14 classes, studiously studying, interspersed with shots of the clock's hands spinning at a rapid rate, all whilst a lovely tune such as say a beetles-like variation of, "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better" plays in the background. Suddenly, we realized that Whoa! It's 2:15 and school is over!, and we find ourselves wishing we could live in montages once in a while...sorry boys and girls, it's just for the Einstein's I guess. Jaron has successfully completed yet another day of learning and walks out to his car while reviewing a returned test, and wondering how it could be possible to only receive 101%. What had he done wrong?
As he approaches the "Golden Dragon," he reaches into his pocket to retrieve the keys. Not there. He tries the outer zipper of his backpack. Nope. The big compartment? Huh-uh. The box in the side pocket labeled "car keys"? Of course not...he'd lost the key to that box ages ago. Where could those blasted things be? As he heaved his load onto the gargantuan hood of the vehicle, he wished he had listened to his mother when she told him to buy a key clapper. But it was too late for second guesses....too late to go back to sleep....it's time to trust my instintcts....sorry. Tangent.
As Jaron stood, hands on hips, pondering...he glanced up at his bag and noticed something strange. It was vibrating. "Well," he said, "I'm no rocket scientist, but I pretty much am and I think I know why my bag would be vibrating in such a manner and I don't think it has to do with any kind of small rodent being trapped inside." "By Golly!" he exclaimed with vigor, "My keys are still in the car! And they are in the ignition! And my car IS STILL RUNNING! From this morning! And I've locked the door! (safety first, kids)"
He quickly catches a ride home with an amigo, and runs through the front door where he finds his beautiful, talented, intelligent, practically-perfect-in-every-way, and HUMBLE sister...we'll just call her Kristen for her own protection...sitting in the family room. Jaron spews out his tale of horror and asks his beautiful, talented, etc. etc. sister where the extra set of keys are. She's intelligent and talented, but she may or may not have lost those keys months earlier.
To make a treacherous treasure hunting story short we'll just end by saying Sir Jaron eventually....and I do mean eventually found said keys in someone's room (we'll keep her annonymous for obvious reasons), and was able to get in and stop his engine. But he will never live it down so long as I shall live.
THE END
Handsome, no? So, one blistery morning this big friendly giant with great hair (and did I mention he is brilliant? well...you'll see soon enough, carry on) was slightly late for first period (I believe it was Economics 19,000 or no wait! AP Honors Special Smarty Pants Exhalted Beings Chemistry, yes that was it). After speeding his '92 Gold Park Avenue Buick with reckless abandon into his specially reserved "smart kid" stall, he threw it into 'park', grabbed his pack of texts, slammed the door...double checked to make sure it was securely locked (safety first, kids), and took off at a run towards Knowledge Landia.
Here's the part of the movie where we see a montage of Jaron sitting front and center in each of his 14 classes, studiously studying, interspersed with shots of the clock's hands spinning at a rapid rate, all whilst a lovely tune such as say a beetles-like variation of, "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better" plays in the background. Suddenly, we realized that Whoa! It's 2:15 and school is over!, and we find ourselves wishing we could live in montages once in a while...sorry boys and girls, it's just for the Einstein's I guess. Jaron has successfully completed yet another day of learning and walks out to his car while reviewing a returned test, and wondering how it could be possible to only receive 101%. What had he done wrong?
As he approaches the "Golden Dragon," he reaches into his pocket to retrieve the keys. Not there. He tries the outer zipper of his backpack. Nope. The big compartment? Huh-uh. The box in the side pocket labeled "car keys"? Of course not...he'd lost the key to that box ages ago. Where could those blasted things be? As he heaved his load onto the gargantuan hood of the vehicle, he wished he had listened to his mother when she told him to buy a key clapper. But it was too late for second guesses....too late to go back to sleep....it's time to trust my instintcts....sorry. Tangent.
As Jaron stood, hands on hips, pondering...he glanced up at his bag and noticed something strange. It was vibrating. "Well," he said, "I'm no rocket scientist, but I pretty much am and I think I know why my bag would be vibrating in such a manner and I don't think it has to do with any kind of small rodent being trapped inside." "By Golly!" he exclaimed with vigor, "My keys are still in the car! And they are in the ignition! And my car IS STILL RUNNING! From this morning! And I've locked the door! (safety first, kids)"
He quickly catches a ride home with an amigo, and runs through the front door where he finds his beautiful, talented, intelligent, practically-perfect-in-every-way, and HUMBLE sister...we'll just call her Kristen for her own protection...sitting in the family room. Jaron spews out his tale of horror and asks his beautiful, talented, etc. etc. sister where the extra set of keys are. She's intelligent and talented, but she may or may not have lost those keys months earlier.
To make a treacherous treasure hunting story short we'll just end by saying Sir Jaron eventually....and I do mean eventually found said keys in someone's room (we'll keep her annonymous for obvious reasons), and was able to get in and stop his engine. But he will never live it down so long as I shall live.
THE END
March 4, 2008
itunes tuesday
If No One Will Listen
KERI NOBLE
(if you click this link to listen...you MUST promise to not ruin your
experience by watching the lame-o video. Just down-arrow it or die.)
Maybe no one told you there is strength in your tears
And so you fight to keep from pouring out
But what if you unlock the gate that keeps your secret soul
Do you think there's enough that you would drown?
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still
No one can take you where you alone must go
There's no telling what you will find there
And, God, I know the fear that eats away at your bones
It's screaming every step, “Just stay here”
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still
If you find your fists are raw and red from beating yourself down
If your legs have given out under the weight
If you find you've been settling for a world of gray
So you wouldn't have to face down your own hate
If no one will listen
If you decide to speak
If no one's left standing after the bombs explode
If no one wants to look at you
For what you really are
I will be here still
I will be here still
I swear, this girl's unreal. I love love love ALL of her songs.
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