A Public Service Annoucement
Dear All,
I love you dearly but PLEASE, unless you are a compassionate and loving individual, keep your disgusting, hairy, all-too-pointy noses out of my business. It is not your job to regulate what I do, I do a good job on my own.
Please, again, for the love of all things holy and good, understand that I am a rational and mature being and thus do not need your help with these simple tasks. My love life might be screwed up right now, but this is my issue.
kthnxnoluv,
Caitlin
PS.
Pina Coladas
I love the song, "If you like pina coladas, and dancing in the rain, if you're not into yoga, if you've got half a brain." While I am totally into healthful food and yoga, I sort of want to marry a person and have a relationship like the one described in that song. I want to make love at midnight on the sand dunes on a beach, not caring about the fact that sand is getting everywhere, like it always does when you go to the beach. I want to have a beautiful and open and vivacious relationship, where my husband loves everything about me, from the two little shadows on the tip of my nose to my groggy early morning speech. (aka, the morning voice) My first memory of a pina colada is on the beach in Hawaii, laying on a lawn chair on the black sand, too hot to put your feet on it. We had spent the first few days running in and out of the bath-temperature water, cooling our burning feet, but after a few days, I was tired. I love coconut, so I ordered a pina colada, and reclining on this chair, the plastic straps pressing into my back, I sipped this coconut pineapple concotion, loving it. When I was a vegan, I made vegan pina coladas when I craved sugar. I learned how to use a power drill with a coconut, I'd drill into it then, sticking a straw into the hole, and suck the milk out. Pineapples are one of my favorite fruits. They are sweet and acidic and it burns my tongue in a good way, like that partially good feeling. In a way, that partial feeling makes the true feeling more sweet: the burst of flavor and sugar to begin with, then the sour that comes afterwards almost makes you appreciate it more. I'm told, sometimes, we have to learn from the acid to love the sweetness, because without the yin there would be no yang, it would all blend into one labyrinth of emotion, not being able to categorize anything as good or bad, or reach an ultimate anything, just being one apathetic, single emotion, blob, with nobody knowing about good or bad. Though you would be saved from the horrors of life, you'd sacrifice those moment of ecstasy... The head back in pleasure, eyes closed, heart rushing moments that truly define our lives.
I love you dearly but PLEASE, unless you are a compassionate and loving individual, keep your disgusting, hairy, all-too-pointy noses out of my business. It is not your job to regulate what I do, I do a good job on my own.
Please, again, for the love of all things holy and good, understand that I am a rational and mature being and thus do not need your help with these simple tasks. My love life might be screwed up right now, but this is my issue.
kthnxnoluv,
Caitlin
PS.
Pina Coladas
I love the song, "If you like pina coladas, and dancing in the rain, if you're not into yoga, if you've got half a brain." While I am totally into healthful food and yoga, I sort of want to marry a person and have a relationship like the one described in that song. I want to make love at midnight on the sand dunes on a beach, not caring about the fact that sand is getting everywhere, like it always does when you go to the beach. I want to have a beautiful and open and vivacious relationship, where my husband loves everything about me, from the two little shadows on the tip of my nose to my groggy early morning speech. (aka, the morning voice) My first memory of a pina colada is on the beach in Hawaii, laying on a lawn chair on the black sand, too hot to put your feet on it. We had spent the first few days running in and out of the bath-temperature water, cooling our burning feet, but after a few days, I was tired. I love coconut, so I ordered a pina colada, and reclining on this chair, the plastic straps pressing into my back, I sipped this coconut pineapple concotion, loving it. When I was a vegan, I made vegan pina coladas when I craved sugar. I learned how to use a power drill with a coconut, I'd drill into it then, sticking a straw into the hole, and suck the milk out. Pineapples are one of my favorite fruits. They are sweet and acidic and it burns my tongue in a good way, like that partially good feeling. In a way, that partial feeling makes the true feeling more sweet: the burst of flavor and sugar to begin with, then the sour that comes afterwards almost makes you appreciate it more. I'm told, sometimes, we have to learn from the acid to love the sweetness, because without the yin there would be no yang, it would all blend into one labyrinth of emotion, not being able to categorize anything as good or bad, or reach an ultimate anything, just being one apathetic, single emotion, blob, with nobody knowing about good or bad. Though you would be saved from the horrors of life, you'd sacrifice those moment of ecstasy... The head back in pleasure, eyes closed, heart rushing moments that truly define our lives.