All the reasons I love you.

All the reasons I love you.

Darling, let me count the ways, like how the sparks fly when my skin you graze.

The way your name tastes, so sweet on my lips; or the way when you're near, a beat my heart skips.

How minutes fly by whenever we're alone and seconds are like hours the moment you're gone.

With the warmth of an embrace you can right any wrong, the way memories of you can put life in a song.

How you make even the smallest dreams come true, you've opened me up to parts of myself I never knew.

The look in your eyes when you gaze at me, the way it never alters even when I pretend to not see. 

You bring me to life like no one before, I may doubt a lot, but when it comes to loving you I've never been more sure.

You Just got Taylor Swift-ed.

So, I haven’t had coffee, I’m tired, I had to drive in Houston traffic this morning and it’s Monday. I would say it’s pretty safe to assume I’m cranky. On top of all of this, I am stewing thoughts in my head. I would like to say I am the kind of person who can let things go, but occasionally I am the total opposite. I hold on to shit like it’s a rope and I am dangling above a pit full of conspiracists….I’m practically holding on for dear life. So, I am about to go all Taylor Swift.

That’s right. This one is for you.

People never cease to amaze me. I’m just going into full disclosure mode here: I am a woman, ergo I am allowed crazy woman moments. I can over react and I can get mad about stupid things. Why you may ask? Because I have a vagina, that’s why. If I want to spend an hour crying because for some ungodly reason no one offers just a normal fruit smoothie, then I reserve that right. Not everyone is on a diet or needs crack mixed with their strawberries, Thirstys! If you don’t know this about me I suppose I will go ahead and put it out here….I am bad at break ups. I am mean, and I cold, and generally I regret it a whopping 5 minutes later. But, sometimes shit just has to end. Now, I am in no way perfect but if anything I would like to think I am a good friend. I am the kind of person who would give the clothes off of my back to help someone else, and realistically I hate that. I would much rather be a heartless bitch, but you know…here I am…crying about other people’s problems and what-not. It happens. What I do however get tired of is friendships that are fairly one sided. I know I shouldn’t expect things from people - but I do. If I am going to put 100% into a relationship, I would like it back….or at least some of it. I am very much a girl who needs a best friend. Pathetic? Possibly…but none the less, it is known. So imagine how distraught I am to have gone through not two, but THREE best friends in a matter of a few years. The best part? Aside from the most recent I am at a total loss as to what happened with them, so I wrote it off as people grow up and change. Oh change…currently my favorite little chapter in the book of “What to do after no longer being Kayla’s Best friend”. I don’t even know where to begin with this…or what to keep to myself. I am walking on thin ice here…alas, I am doing what I swore I wouldn’t do and blogging. Meh. That’s all I have to say about that. I know I will get a slap on the wrist but occasionally I like a little spanking, add some hair pulling and I’m in Heaven!

Facebook. Ye Olde Booke O’ Faces. Dramabook. You’reasuperwhore book. Cuntbook. Scroll Scroll Scroll….biblicalquotesoyoumustbeChristianBook. ILovemyhusbandBook. Ihateeveryonebook. IdontknowhowImadeitoutofkindergartenwithoutlearningthedifferencebetweenlettersandnumbersBook.

Such a versatile little thing. You know, I would like more people if I didn’t know them on Facebook. Because as much as I respect people’s opinions, occasionally reading them really pisses me off. Generally I back away slowly and just forget it because I am certain not all people agree with me and mine. But when you are being blatantly stupid, I am going to say something. Even if it’s condescending and indirect, it’s going to happen. I would like to personally thank Facebook for my most recent break up. Me and another girl, who was rather fucking stupid might I add, had a disagreement which bothered my..partner…so low and behold she got mad at me, blah blah blah, and decided that not being a good friend would be the appropriate way to handle that. So, when I was at a point where I really needed a friend she left me high and dry. Something for the record, that I have never done to her…or ANY of my friends. So pretty much, yes, Fuck you. Sadly I still stand by that…I’m sure one day I’ll get over it but it is definitely still a Fuck you. Even if I miss her. So, I will just put that behind me now and move on. There are plenty of other girls who also enjoy  shopping, gossip, dinners, social events and being gay. Oh yeah…being gay…that’s what started all of this! I forgot to mention that, apparently, and you didn’t hear this from me, but God hates gays. At least that’s what I heard through the grapevine….and suddenly, certain people really love God…and Chic Fil A…which is fine, except a month ago, I think that would have gone a different direction. So yeah. All of that hatred, very holy of you and all. Please, tell me more about how “Christian” you are…because as we know, gay marriage, God hates that but premarital sex? I am certain he will make an exception for you! After all, the lord does forgive. Unless you’re gay, in which case, clearly you will be joining me in hell, since I don’t hate gays. Well…that was a run on. But I feel better getting that off my chest and on to the internet where everyone can read it and talk about what a horrible person I am for being tolerant. Disclosure number 2 of this blog: If you don’t agree with my beliefs, don’t read them. This is my personal blog so If I want to write a porn on here, I can do that! Yay for freedom of speech. And for the record, I completely understand and support peoples conservative Christian views, its not those that bother me….I have friends who really do not care for Homosexual folk at all, and I know that and we just avoid the subject, we’re still friends. But, when you suddenly start humping a bible to prove some kind of point, hell yes I am going to call your bluff. Anyway…that’s enough of that….soooooooo someday I’ll be living in a big ol’ city and all you’re ever gonna be Is mean….

Just saying. Rant. Over.

Someone Woke up on the Wrong Side of the Bed...

You know how you shouldn't drink and drive? Well I probably shouldn't PMS and blog...but, hey, shit happens. I've actually been kind of avoiding this guy right here because it offends some people and what not...but today, I need to vent about oh, so much. I would like to start by thanking three specific people, the car from New Mexico that was on West Lake this morning going 10 miles under the speed limit, The Cadillac that pulled out in front of me on the feeder to the belt and proceeded to not only pull all the way over into my lane while the other 2 lanes that he could have pulled in were empty but to slow down and practically stop when he realized what an idiot he was, and lastly the honda civic on the bridge that was in the left lane going 30. Can I get a round of applause for these winners? I can only assume most folks out this time of the morning are on their way to work...so I expect increased speed levels and some fucking consideration. I don't even know what they're thinking, at what point is someone like "Hey, I know I should stop before a right turn on red but I think I'm just going to Dukes of Hazard this shit and pull out in front of the only vehicle thats passing right now!" Clearly thats a terrific idea. He's lucky I don't have a grill guard because I tell you what I would have tore that Cadillac's ass up like a prostitute on prom night had I not risked damaging my pretty grill. So yeah...maybe I'm a little cranky now. This is month 2 of PMS = homicidal rage. I know I will feel better when I'm more awake and start listening to some nice soft relaxing music but as for right now...I'm just going to spill some inner thoughts..ready?


Now, I would like to think I keep my southern lady-like composure most of the time..occasionally, like now, I could probably be a little more classy but over all I have learned to keep my thoughts to myself along with my foul opinions. Its just more socially acceptable that way. But, girls, some of you need a wake up call. For starters lets work on vocabulary, if you can't spell perhaps you should avoid typing until you can pass a grade school composition class and for gods sake, do not have children until you have the mentality of someone older than 12. Also, do not call yourself a Mother if you spend more time partying than with your child and do not call yourself classy if you carry yourself like a bar whore. Offended by any of this? Perhaps you should take a second look at your lifestyle. Get your act together, seriously. Unless you realize what you're doing in which case...all right...proceed. There is a middle ground with being a young parent, you don't have to give up life, but, you do need to remember that you did decide to have a kid and those things do need to be taken care of; like a puppy or a house plant. Or theres always the other option....do whatever the hell you want but lets just not post it on facebook...now THATS an idea. Because like it or not everyone is constantly judging everyone else based on social networking. Its like watching daytime television, you just sit back and watch the drama unfold. I'm guilty of it on both ends...but at least I realize it I suppose. I somewhat hate the internet. I couldn't live without it but I really wish my generation had more snap than to expose the things we do for the public eye. I do remember reading a study a few weeks back on how "over sharing" stimulated the same parts of the brain as sexual arousal. How interesting...but, that explains why some girls are more prone to it, ifyouknowwhatImean.

It just occurred to me that I have practically no idea who reads this. I mean, I know people do....but I just don't really know who. So, I will take a moment to apologize for my language, if it offended you. This blog was always meant to be rather rough and tumble and was for things I didn't want to "over share" on facebook. I am well aware my grandmother would not approve. But, other people eat it up and, golly, someone has to say it!


Now, for my next topic of business: Bitches be hatin'. With the over sharing on facebook comes the ability to post these fantastic statuses which is cool when you're like "Aw, my kids is so cute" but when you're like "No one cares that your kid is cute", its not cool. That is what we on planet earth call "passive-aggressive". While occasionally its acceptable, if everything you post is passive aggressive we've got a whole other boat of problems; one of them clearly being that you need to grow some balls. More over, people aren't stupid a majority of the time I'm sure who your talking about know you're referring you them. I for instance am well aware that if I post a status saying how much I like Tiffany's new jewelry line and then 5 minutes later you post a status saying "really T&co? (insert  unnecessary comment)" clearly I know you were trolling and then hating on me..for having taste of all things. Oh, another kind I like, the "thats not a status" status. If I post how happy I am about something and then 2 minutes later a bitch posts "if I read one more of those" clearly, I can tell you be hatin'. Yes I got ghetto. And to top it off...thats not even a status...thats like a response. "eating a sandwich" now that is a status, "no one cares" is not a status. Go stand in a corner with the illiterate girls who make me think that schools are just handing out diplomas.

Well, I think thats enough for now. Oh yes, and shout out to my friends! They had my back this week!!! To a very extreme point...but, it definitely made me realize how lucky I am to have such wonderful people in my life. I love you guys, seriously!  I don't say that as much as I should. And for anyone looking for a pick-me-up today, I am sorry...I hope I at least got you to crack a smile at my frustrations.

I Tasted Perfection, if only for a Moment.

Sitting on the edge of the tub I run my hand beneath the warm water pouring out of the faucet and let it run so smoothly over my fingers. I can feel the cold tile beneath my bare feet and passivly note my shadow dancing on the wall with every flicker of the candles. The room is dim save the flames. Words are pouring out of speakers flowing softly and calmly and the rush of the water is like static against it. The air around me is becoming welcoming as the heat comes off of the rising water in the tub. I stand up carefully taking in the cold shocks as my feet press firmly against the all but frozen floor then shiver with relaxation when the air around me warms me to the bone. I turn the knobs to off and the room is suddenly more silent, the kind of silent you can taste and the music graces it just perfectly. I step to the mirror and pull my hair up in a neat bun and pay little attention the sound of the gentle splash in the tub behind me. I examine myself carefully, my eyes, my nose, my lips, the way my robe falls in a deep "V" upon my chest. It has been a long day, a long month at that and I had often worried it had started to take its toll. In the pale light the exhaustion doesn't seem to show as much. I turn the corners of my lips into a gentle smile, I can't help but grin at my own frustrations. I untie the black bow that is fastened snuggly around my belly and let the robe slide off of my back and on to the floor, slowly and gracefully. In that moment I am smitten with the chill of skin being kissed by air a bit cooler than desired. I shiver and then step back towards the tub. I greet the bath with a smile, a genuine one. I carefully place one foot in and sigh as the warmth surounds my ankle. I work my other foot in and eventually my lower body, I allow myself to lean back. The skin of my back is greeted by the warmth of a chest. I lean into it, its as warm as the water, but its a different kind of warmth. Its the kind of warm that can take every tensed muscle in your body and relax it. Suddenly I am surrounded by arms, holding me tightly, I feel lips gently brush the back of my neck. I let out a breath that I was unaware I was holding. My shoulders are being gently covered with kisses and my upper body is being kept warm by the heat of skin. In this moment I close my eyes. I can not breathe. I can not think. I can only feel. I can feel the warmth of his breath as he whispers "I love you" in my ear. I can feel his hands moving slowly up and down my arms, relaxing me with every stroke as if wiping away every ounce of worry I had been carrying around.  I open my eyes and glance at the words carefully painted upon the wall in front of me, "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." This was one of those moments. In this moment, I could take my last breath and I would go out simply in bliss. In this moment my heart aches, my eyes water with the intense shocks I feel in my chest, I want to save this moment and live in it forever. I want to put it in a bottle, and place it as a trophy upon a shelf, every time I glanced at it, it would be a reminder that no matter how hard things get that there will always be another moment like this just waiting to be made and lived in. Right here in this moment, I am living and breathing perfection. I am drowing in love. In this moment every wrong in the world is suddenly right...even if only for the moment.

I am Woman, hear me purr.

In moments of weakness I remember that strength is within me. I take to heart that there is not one challenge in life that I will be confronted with that I cannot both defeat and learn from. When I feel a cloud of sadness above my head I will not drown in the fact that I am hurting, I will instead embrace the fact that I was blessed with the ability to feel such strong emotions and I will know in my heart that a smile will once again grace my lips. As a woman I will be aware of my abilities to brighten the lives of others, be it through friendship, love or motherhood and I will do my best every single day to do so. In times when things feel as if they are too much to take and everything in life is going wrong I will hold my head high and keep in mind that the only person who controls me is in fact me and I will push on and eventually will once again come out on top. I will embrace the moments that love makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world and I will hold them in my heart for times when I need a little encouragement. In moments when a man may make me feel like I am not worthy I will look back to a time when I was all he ever wanted and I will smile because I know I will have that again and that he is little but a stepping stone. It is all too true that if someone can not appreciate you at your worst they do not in fact deserve you at your best. I will do my best to do right by others, even when done wrong to. I will remember that the world is not perfect just as I am not and that each set back will eventually be accompanied by a moment of happiness and accomplishment. I will accept that regrets are part of life and a vital tool for learning and although I cannot change the past I can keep myself from making the same mistakes in the future. Every day  I will remind myself of this:

I am strong. I am in control. I am happy. I am smart. I am beautiful. I will do all the things in life I want, no one is holding me back. I am a woman.

If These Walls Could Talk.

I place little stock in walls which will one day talk,

My faith lies not in the hope of the future but in the patterns of the past.

Stories that are told of a distant time may put a smile on my face and bring a tear to my eye,

But stories of tomorrow as happy as they may be are little but promises, that we hope to one day see.

To touch it, to feel it, to taste it; that’s real. To wish it and dream it is little but ideals.

I plan not to live in the past but to embrace today, and hope for tomorrow, although happen not, it may.

Love For Sale.

You can say things a million times, “I’m a winner, I’m a winner, I’m a winner” but words are not the same as feeling the actual emotion. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” It’s so easy to say. Just rolls right off the tongue. It was even easy to do at first…to take a step out of the door. I stayed a close distance and enjoyed the breeze and hearing the birds sing. A taste of freedom and a breath of fresh air. As long as that door was cracked, I was okay. I pondered returning inside a few times, after all there is no place like home but each time I was reminded that beyond the manicured dusted blinds and beautifully carved door that there was much more than the Better Homes and Gardens image let on. The paint had begun to chip off the walls, the furniture was in need of shampooing, the carpets had seen better days and the old pictures that had once been so amiable were now dusty and lacked all but nostalgia. From the outside, it’s worth a million bucks but beyond the doorstep it was barely worth renovating. Time had taken its toll on the structure, the lack of caring and neglect for maintaining quality was almost painful to look at. In its prime it was beautiful, it was worth envying but now it was worth little more than a sympathetic nod. To think that things can be so beautiful and then end up being so broken is incredibly painful. In the end when people walk past it they note its fading glamour then shake their heads and walk away. People don’t realize it was once so glorious; no one thinks back to the past.Sometimes I can’t help but live there. In my head at times it’s still the wondrous mansion it once was, ready for guests, begging to be admired but then as the fog clears I can see the over grown grass and cracks trailing up the bricks from the foundation. Letting go is never easy. There’s the urge to do it all over, to paint the dining room red, to pull up the carpet and lay down fresh hardwood floors. That won’t fix the foundation though. It may hide the cracks but in the end the floors still creak and the walls are still shifting. An outsider may say, “Why sell it? It has so much potential.” But I suppose that’s easier said than done, they are not putting out the cash to have the house leveled, to have the floors redone. There is a point where it’s just not worth working on because in the end no one wins, you just get further in debt. Then what would I have to show? A pretty exterior? If the house is still unlevel and the foundation is still cracked then all I’m living in is a lie. Something that is pretty for people to look at from the outside but they’re not having to live in it. They are not having to hear the constant creaking or having to slam doors because the frame is now off. It’s not fair to expect someone to live somewhere when they’re unhappy, where no matter how much work they do there is just one problem followed by another. You can replace a door knob and then turn around and the basement is flooded. Along the road there are a many for sale signs, the occasional foreclosure and then there are houses being renovated and flooding with happiness, with graciousness for being offered a second chance. I’ve made my improvements over the years; I have brought up the property value. I have poured blood and sweat into making things picture perfect. But now all I have is defeat. I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m leaving. As I glance behind me I see the blackness that falls between the door and the door frame get smaller as the door is being closed completely, I jump a little as I hear it finally slam shut. I can feel my heart ache as I try to take one last mental picture of the home I am leaving behind. I walk out in the yard, hammer and sign in hand and with every ounce of energy I have left I help the picketed sign break the dry ground. For sale is stamped in bold letters. Perhaps what had once made me so happy would eventually make someone else the same way. There was just nothing left there for me. So down the sidewalk I stroll, enjoying the air, enjoying the calm. Coming to terms with the ache, knowing that I would once again find a beautiful house that would welcome me and this homelessness wouldn’t last forever.