lipsoflove

You were born an original. Don't die a copy.
~John Mason

Things you need to know (not really):

• Thanksgiving is today!! Woot!
  
• The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is coming on! (I will definitely be up for that).
  
• While watching, you bet your ass I'll have my cup of joe (hot chocolate) in my new, one-of-a-kind, hand-spun mug that I got from the Brookhaven Arts Festival, and a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oat. Mmmhmm.
  
• Cat and I put up our second podcast.
  
• iTunes likes us!!
  
• Every hour of my Thanksgiving is planned. This excites me because it is going to be awesome!
  
• Now that the holidays are here, it's time to break out my holiday-themed icons. Sweet! I'm a dork.
  
• I'm thankful for breathing, my health, happiness, nail polish, friends, family, and love in the purest form. It's breathtaking.

Happy Thanksgiving, lovelies!
Remember to love.

Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.
~Kurt Cobain

Remember to love.

So I suck at this daily posting thing this year, apparently. I got into a serious funk and lost interest in several things. However, I've found that the thing that does bring me out of a hole is a new project!

( Dude )

Muah!
Remember to love.

LOVE this photo.

( By Malone Co )

Remember to love.

The weekend was pretty good, for the most part. Had lunch with Kate at Hudson's on Saturday afternoon, went to a volleyball game, which was okay. Today was spent indoors. It was nice. More weekends like this need to occur.

Remember to love.

Boo.
That's all you're getting from me.

Remember to love.

Man, I'm getting it in under the wire today.

I had a Spanish test this morning, which went pretty well. I don't think I got a 105 on it, like usual, but a 95 won't be so bad. I sacrificed my studying my vocab notecards over and over and over again to my studying with Josh. It. Was. Totally. Worth. It. The boy makes me laugh like no other; I'll definitely take a memorable evening over studying that notecard one. More. Time.
We have so many inside jokes now, it's ridiculous; I think our Spanish professor thinks we're crazy. I'm okay with that. That whole laughing thing (which I feel like I haven't done sincerely in weeks) is totally worth my professor thinking I'm off my rocker.

I probably am anyway.
Remember to love.

Favorite thing about the fall season?

Well, I would give the cliched answer of "fall colors" or "I love the weather," but really it's not about that for me. Fall usually makes me sad since I know the winter season is coming. However, what I do love most about Fall are the festivals!! Book festivals, art festivals, food and culture festivals - all of them!! Gloriousness. Yes, you end up spending money you didn't mean to, and most of the time it's bristly or rainy, but man, you still fall asleep with a smile on your face.
Kate and I went to the Brookhaven Arts Festival a few weeks ago, and boy was I like a kid in a candy shop! Gorgeous art, photography, and jewelry were everywhere! Everyone was so nice, and you got to meet the artists who created the things that excited you. There's nothing like them.

If I were in Texas, I would say the most exciting thing would be the State Fair. Fried everything and Strawberry Chills; silly carnival games and semi-scary rides. It's amazing. Granted, I am not a fan of the screaming children and cocky teenagers that crowd the place, but it's too amazing to pass up when I'm there.

Good job, Fall. You rock.
Remember to love.

I have two lovely prompts for you today, my faithful reader.
First and foremost:
( List Ten Noteworthy Events (to you, anyway) of the Last 24 Hours )

Would you rather tall the truth or take a dare?

I think this question is a great way to display certain personality traits (which I guess is the reason for all journal prompts in the end). The game Truth or Dare has consistently freaked me out since I knew of its existence. And that's because I always saw sensationalized versions of it on television and the such. On kids' shows and sitcoms people would continually make their friends complete some insane or somewhat illegal (if not downright so) dare.

"Run around the building naked three times!"
"I dare you to steal Mrs. Kiefer's grandma undies from next door!"
"Go and flash that cop over there, and then scream that you're horny for Jesus!"

Well, maybe not that last one, but you get the gist of it. So in lieu of that, I was always wary to play this game. I don't want to get naked; I'm physically self-conscious, and it may be cold outside. I don't want to steal Mrs. Kiefer's underwear because she may need them, and what if they're not clean? I definitely am not going to flash that police officer because he is going to cart me off to jail, and he has a gun. Also, I have never been horny for Jesus, thank you very much. I'm a good Christian and not a character in The Exorcist.

I always went for "truth' of course. It was easier, less savage-like, and quicker to get over with. However, as time went on, I realized that not all dares were completely insane, and sometimes truth-telling was harder to do than some random act of crazy. Now that I'm 24, I'm trying to be more spontaneous and have more fun with dares because they are quite memorable.

But don't get your hopes up. That cop is never going to see my boobs.

Remember to love.

What smell/sight/tactile experience means "the holidays have begun" to you?

I would say hot chocolate, but I drink that stuff year-round. However, I do have a Lorelei sense of smell, a la Gilmore Girls. She could always tell when the first snow of the season was going to hit, down to the hour. I can't do that because, one, I live in the south, and two, when it's cold, it's just freakin' cold. But I am able to tell when the last heat of the year is leaving us. It's a bittersweet day for me, but a lovely one. That day is usually the beginning of the holiday season.

I'm such a summer baby; I miss the warmth during the winter, but it's always such a blessing to get it back in the spring. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and boy is my heart fond of the summer.

Remember to love.

I'm Dallas. If you need more of an official intro, click here. It's from my NaBloPoMo introduction last year, and everything still holds true from it (just update it by a year).

Today was an unexpected mental health day. Didn't leave my room once I got back from Spanish this morning. It was nice. Tried to knock down the number of unread posts in my Google Reader, which was almost pointless since I keep finding cool new blogs to add to said Reader. lol. Ordered in Chinese food, and actually received the food at my front door instead of having to go outside and wait for the delivery man to show. It's the small things in life, people.

On a personal note, I had quite a tough Halloween weekend. Disappointments in friendships have reared their heads, and I'm not quite sure how to handle these situations. It's not over one friendship, but several, and well... I'm not sure if anything can be done. So, I'm just taking it one day at a time and trying to gain some perspective within my own heart.
How vague can I be, right? lol.

On a positive note, my nails are a gorgeous Emerald City green, and I have been letting them shimmer in the light all day. Again, sometimes the small things can pull you out of the biggest holes. I love that about life.

Remember to love.

As we all know, I am a huge supporter of creativity in all aspects. (Well, you might not have known that, but I am.)
Today, or if you're reading this on Monday - yesterday, was the start of the annual NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I don't think I have the concentration to write 50,000 words on one subject during a 30-day period, however, I am immensely proud of my friends who do rack their brains for. Just. The. Right. Word.
So to support you all, a la last year, I will participate in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). It's not as purely awesome as NaNoWriMo, but it's the best I can do. lol.



So for the next thirty days, hopefully I can bring you guys some wit, pep, and a little love via the good ole eljay that I have neglected so. I hope to post some pictures, create some voice posts, and basically try to intertwine my virtual friends into the life of Dallas.
Wish me luck.

Remember to love.

Epic day my friends.
I won a free autographed book from my favorite author, Miss Sandra Brown. She's a romance-thriller novelist, and I've been reading her books since the eighth grade. The contest I won was called the "Get Caught Reading Sandra" contest. You had to send in a picture of you reading one of her books in a cool or creative way. Here's the winning picture. I don't think it's creative so much as adorable, but who cares? I won! hehe.

I posted it on Twitter, but here's all the loot she sent. The book (with a signed page on the inside), a note thanking me for participating in the contest (thank you, Sandra!), three of her bookmarks, and a Kleenex pack promoting her new book Rainwater that's coming out next week (which of course I'm buying). The note was the most surprising because, hi, it's a personal note from a lady that I basically worship, and it's on her own personal expensive stationary. It's so getting framed.

Enough talk! Time for a picture!!



The book I requested ('cause you know, she emailed me to ask what book I wanted from the seventy books she has released - yeah, I have now communicated with Sandra. We're on a first name basis.) is called Breakfast in Bed. It's the book that started the whole love affair. Most of the novel is already etched in my mind, but it's quite awesome to have a signed copy of the book that basically changed my literary life. It's sappy and very 1980s, but oh how I love it.

I'm pretty sure the authors that I read through high school, like Sandra Brown, saved me from severe depression. Everyone went through identity crises during their teen years, and mine weren't any different. I felt mine was a bit tougher because of the mental wear-and-tear that occurred from me having to raise a child (my sister) while going through high school. Being able to escape through the whirlwind love affairs in the world of books definitely kept me from straying to the dark side of the moon, like suicide, etc. They made me realize that there is a brighter side to life; it doesn't have to always be like this. You can learn to love yourself and love others through that self-love, and if you let it, it can cleanse you whole.


Thank you, Sandra, for making me anew.
Remember to love.

Labor Day weekend.
What a beautiful thing.

Remember to love.

Seeing romance through the lens of another has been a part of my life for a very long time. Reading it, watching it, and trying to create it are the focal points of my my most memorable life stories. When I was five, my favorite movie was When Harry Met Sally. Don't ask me how a five-year-old could understand the concepts of a movie like that because I can not answer that. All I know is that I knew I wanted something like that for myself before I could even conceive what it truly was.

My kindergarten boyfriend-for-a-day, Jeffrey, and I had a whirlwind affair. I called him sugarpie and honeybun; we held hands for thirty seconds; a peck on the cheek was also in order. For five-year-olds, we loved PDA. In fifth grade, a boy named Kevin walked me home three times, and I thought "This is the epitome of romance." It ended swiftly when my mother came outside on the third day and told him never to come back.

I discovered romance novels in the eighth grade. I'm pretty sure this was one of the more significant moments in my life. I could not read them fast enough. After a few months, I was going to the library every Saturday and checking out six books at a time, all from the same section. I wanted to experience this quickening of the pulse, the nervousness, and the slight queasiness of the stomach. Feeling lighter than air, how does one do that?

Eventually, the question changed from "what is romance?" to "what is love?"
Then I met Phillip. The answer came pretty quickly after that.

During some point in high school and continuing into college, the questions became deeper. How does one keep love? What if my love is greater than yours? How do we cope? What if there is love and nothing else? And the big one - "Where is it?"

As these questions have progressed in difficulty, my view of romance has changed. Well, maybe not the view, but the way I process it when it is shown to me. Last night, my boss Heidi and I went to see the indie film Adam. It follows the romantic entanglements of a man with Asperger's Syndrome. During the movie, I wanted to cry for several reasons - none of which had to do with his disease. It was the sweet parts - a kiss here, a private smile there - that had me in tears.

Romance, the thing that makes your feet quicker, has begun to sadden me. It is now more depressing to me than watching a bloody war movie. I realized halfway into the film that I am losing hope in love. Believe me, never in a million years did I think that a hopeless romantic like myself would feel depressingly hopeless about love. I have written sad entries about my failed attempts in that department, but a glimmer of light was always somewhere in the depths of my soul. After watching a movie like Adam, that light is supposed to shine a bit brighter. Instead, I couldn't see a light at all.

Some of you may say, "Ah, give it time; it'll come for you." But me not having this light - one that I have had for twenty-something years... you might as well give me a uniform and put me in the frontline of a doomed battle.

Remember to love.

My sister started college two days ago. My little sister. My little sister who I still think is ten years old. My ten-year-old little sister who used to pummel boys into the ground when they got on her nerves or if she was just tired of them. My little sister who I used to watch Barney with and ride on the bus with to school because she was too young to do it alone.

She is in college now, striving to be a legit adult with a working mind.
Part of me is completely bewildered. I'm not old enough for my little sister to be doing the same thing I'm doing. She should be studying her long division and reading Huck Finn. Obviously, the other part of me, the majority of my brain and heart, is immensely proud. I know it hasn't been easy for her. She had to survive the many moods of my mother all by herself in that house for all the years that I have been away. That's one of the main reasons she liked going over to Grandma's house - it was her refuge. lol.

A few years ago I realized how hard it must have been for her to get through high school after I did. When I was there, I was a serious book lover and a dork about always doing my homework and learning as much as I could. I was an A student and ended up being Salutatorian. Following that could not have been easy. I'm pretty sure my mother reminded her more than once that if I could do it, so could she, which is completely ridiculous since we're not the same person at all. Thank goodness we didn't go to the same high school. Even I would have beat on the teachers who talked about my older sister in that sweet "you should be more like her" way. lol.

Just so you know, my family wasn't supposed to have this. Right now, all three of my mother's children are in college. All of us. Statistically, we are abnormal. We have been under the poverty line since the day I was born. In theory, one of us was supposed to drop out of school, another would have had a baby, and the third would be dead or in jail. Instead, we have been blessed beyond the stars, and we're all getting a higher education while my mom pays for none of it. We probably haven't lived half of our lives yet, and somehow I know that we have lived the American dream.

My sister isn't an academic per se, but she knows it well and believes that she can become a better person because of it. She wants to go to college and learn enough to become a successful and productive human being of society. And most importantly, she wants to help people with the knowledge that she captures.

To me, that's the purpose of learning. Because of this, slowly but surely, she has become my hero.

Remember to love.

I can be an incredibly selfish person at times. I like to have control of the TV remote. Picking what radio station is being played in the car gives me supreme satisfaction. Choosing which restaurants to eat at when some friends and I go out is most fulfilling. Having keys to half of the campus and knowing that I can get in anywhere at any time pleases me. Knowing that I can control the pace and path of a conversation keeps my mind calm.

This controlling trait that I have probably comes from the fact that I'm a leo. It's one part of a leader that makes him/her great - always being able to control the situation. Keeping things the way you want them to go. You know, one of the sexiest scenes in film history is in X: The Malcolm X Story with Denzel Washington. After he is released from prison and gathers a following, he walks down the street with his supporters and they stand in front of this building. When he is finished with his conversation, he raises his right hand, turns it to the left, and everyone turns - in sync - and begins to walk away. The power that man had!!

Don't get me wrong - there are several things that I know I am powerless over, and I know that every man wants to be in control of his own fate. However, some things I still try to wield my way just like everyone else. I have found that the number one thing that I am selfish about is friendship. Yet sometimes, the length of certain friendships cannot be manipulated by a leo's hand.

There are very few people in this world I trust. Over the years, I have formed a series of tests or moments that can lead a person into my very small circle of trusted friends. (It sounds silly and kind of non-emotional, but it's needed for a person who is use to trusting no one.) Once I have meshed with these people and we have become certain friends, I want them in my life for an indefinite amount of time. Period. If we became good friends this year, you should at least stay in my life until I'm fifty, and that's final.

However, Fate sometimes has a different plan (that of course She rarely ever tells us). There are a few of my compadres that have only been a part of my life for a chapter. They are like leaves on a tree - they're only there for a season. The logical side of me, after several months or years of analyzing why, sees that it was a good thing or necessary. But sometimes, I still want to fight Fate.

For example, Chelcie R. has been at Oglethorpe for four years, and for some unknown reason, we became immensely close over the past nine months. She became one of the good, trusted friends. Now, she has graduated and is heading to DC for the summer to take part in a wonderful internship that is suited perfectly for her. In August, she's heading to Philadelphia for a year-long job at Swarthmore College. She has this amazing year ahead of her, filled with Lord knows how many destiny-filled moments, and... I don't want her to go.

I mean, I want her to go - she's worked her butt off this year and deserves all of the glory that comes along with hard work, but I'm selfish and want her to stay. For me. I don't want her to grow or become a better woman. lol. I want her to find an apartment in Atlanta and be friends with me. Isn't that such a silly human reaction to change? "No, don't go. Stay here and keep everything the same."

This is how I am with a lot of chapter friendships (TM). Almost exactly one year ago I was thinking the same thing about Keith. 6 years ago, I thought the same thing about Oliver, except I was the one that was leaving and coming to Atlanta. And ten years ago, I was mad at the heavens for forcing me to leave Phillip. I wanted to turn my hand and make them walk my way and stay that way forever.

When I was younger, I used to hate the saying, "If you love someone, set them free." I always thought, "Gosh, why in the world would you ever let them go?! If you love them, hold on and nurture and keep them close." Now I'm older and, reluctantly, realized that I have to let them fly. I don't want to clip their wings. They would be miserable eventually, and so would I.

Sometimes, lol, most of the time, it is hard for me to think that some people are only chapter friends. You were here for me to help me through this, and I was there to help you through that, and that may be all we are. But hopefully, when I'm fifty and wondering where you are, I will think back on us fondly and say, "Thank God we didn't last longer than we did; we would have killed each other had we lasted 25 more years!" lol.
I hope.

Remember to love.

Dallas here again. 66 photos. April 24 - 25th. A night-to-day post! Then back to night. lol.
My great aunt died of cancer on April 23rd. On April 24 through the 25th, Relay for Life: Walk for the Cure was held on our campus. This post and that day is dedicated to her.


( Walk this waaay! )
Remember to love.