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PLEASE
Bloggers -- PLEASE ADD NAME/URL TO YOUR COMMENT OPTIONS.
If I comment on your site, LiveJournal is often my only viable choice and I'M NOT HERE. It makes me not want to leave a comment, honestly.
My home is http://truthfully.ca.
Lecture over. -
blogging again
Hey Friends,
I hope to be back in the blogging groove now. I'll use this place when I need some privacy, for sure. But I started a public blog here. I wanted to let you know, in case you're interested. I'm pretty excited about it. Steve actually made it for me two years ago, and I just got around to using it now.
xoxoxo -
everything is unfinished
I was going through the file named "writing" on my Mac, looking for inspiration. I came across some things that made me laugh, some that made me tingle with pride, and many, unfinished, abandoned pieces that made me cross-eyed. Like this one:
She said thank you to the stranger holding the door for her as she left the building with her post-office ( Read more... ) -
what do you wish you did everyday?
I'm stealing this from ( Read more... ) -
maybe this one should be called "where I'm found"
Where I’m From (present)
By Shannon Fisher
I am from hoodies in every colour, from iEverything and LiveJournal.
I am from one half of the brown, white-trimmed duplex in Henner’s Landing with a fenceless backyard testament to the wide-open boundaries of two families in love, loud, early-morning noises of new development.
I am from the young trees ( Read more... ) -
I feel about my writing the way Jess feels about his drawing
"You should draw a picture of Terabithia for us to hang in the castle," Leslie said.
"I can't." How could he explain it in a way Leslie would understand, how he yearned to reach out and capture the quivering life about him and how when he tried, it slipped past his fingertips, leaving a dry fossil upon the page? "I just can't get the poetry ( Read more... ) -
fly me high
I ran down through the houses and up to the trails where the path carved out reminds me of Keats. The setting sun was flirting with its own reflection in the lake and flashing me brilliant between trees as I moved forward. My legs felt strong and I wove my way through the canvas of greens and browns. I breathed in the goodness of joy. Happiness ( Read more... ) -
Happily Ever After
Emma has this box set of Disney Princess stories that she got for her birthday last September. Every night she begs me to read them and every night I groan, "No! Not the princess ones, Em. There is no such thing as happily ever after. Seriously. These books drive Mommy bonkers. Pick another." And she retorts, "Yes, there is, Mommy. Don't say that ( Read more... ) -
once upon a good hair day
When I was a little girl in elementary school my classmates used to make fun of my hair. I don't know how I knew this, I just know that I did. My mom was big into tight buns on top of my head and banana clips (there is nothing good about a banana clip and never was). One boy, James Callahan, used to look at my buns and make a comment about ( Read more... )
