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You're squawking like a pink monkey bird and I'm busting up my brain for the words.

Laura



Last Updated: 6/28/2009

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Gender: Female
Age: 41
Sign: Scorpio

State: Illinois

Blog Archive
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009 
  I love everybody.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008 

I got a pumpkin facial today.  It was like having pumpkin pie massaged into my face, but in a good way.  Apparently the enzymes in the pumpkin eat the dead skin cells.  I had pumpkin eating my face.

I made my first over-$100 contribution to a cause today too.  I feel like such a grown-up.

I'd like to finish going through my aunt's stuff by the end of the week.  I'm soooo tired of dealing with my step-cousins, and I think they feel the same about me.

I want to take my stepsister Denise out for ink, but I still don't know what I want.  I may just add an Animal Liberation banner to the bird on my ankle.  I like Ida's tat - I wish I had the balls to do something like that.

Tomorrow in emo group we're talking about self-injury.  I'm tempted to blow it off.

Freddy wants to start talking about an exit strategy since he'll be getting his PsyD and leaving me in two months.  I said "Oh - normally I just ditch my therapists...".  He laughed and said good to know.

Francisco was not mad that I took myself off Lamictal.  He agrees less is more, and the Abilify seems to be keeping me stable.

I bought hot pink bedsheets and a tiger print comforter.  Grrrawr.

I keep wanting to call my aunt to tell her things.

Boxes of Boca products are 3 for $8 at Jewel.  I'm totally stocking up.  I'm going to try making veggie beer brats as soon as I get my sister-in-law's recipe.  If any of y'all have a beer brat recipe please share.

My little girl's turning 20 on Friday.

I think that's basically all the news that's fit to print.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007 

Category: Writing and Poetry

I Am Vertical
by Sylvia Plath

But I would rather be horizontal.
I am not a tree with my root in the soil
Sucking up minerals and motherly love
So that each March I may gleam into leaf,
Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed
Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal.
Compared with me, a tree is immortal
And a flower-head not tall, but more startling,
And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.

Tonight, in the infinitesimallight of the stars,
The trees and the flowers have been strewing their cool odors.
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping
I must most perfectly resemble them--
Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.