“Rise and rise again, until the lambs become lions”

Working for my mother’s boss this summer is going exactly as I expected. Hundreds of copies, packets, mailings to be put together in a short amount of time. I wake up at 5 a.m., work is from 7-5, then mom and I walk. I usually get home around 7 p.m. Nothing like a 12 hour day to make you feel like a grownup. I guess.
The other day, I gave into the marriage urges and convinced Michael to go to Barnes and Noble with me to look at books about tying the knot. I was under the impression that he would enjoy going just to be with me, but be miserable because there typically isn’t much for a groom to do in the ways of wedding planning. (I would like to make it clear that he is extremely excited by the mere thought of marrying me, just in case I let him appear negative about the subject) But wait! Can it be!? Why, yes, it is! Books for the men to look at! Thus he dove right into it, reciting occasional lines and tips from the man manual to contribute to the research. Apparently, the best man originated from  the time when a man had to be able to rely completely on his best friend to fend of his woman’s parents because he had taken her against their wishes for them to be married. The best man had to be able to punch out her parents if need be. What a pal indeed. I need to remind myself, yet again, that he and I are not engaged right now, so all of this talk and excitement really shouldn’t be happening. I tried on my sister’s ring last week on mother’s day. It felt yucky. I couldn’t stand the feeling of having something touch my fingers constantly. I suppose I will be forced to get over this discomfort for the sake of having an awesome ring on my finger…

 

Anywho, Friday night Michael and I went with his brother and his girlfriend to dinner and to see Robin Hood. I will spare you the details of dinner, mostly because if I talked about it the way I wanted to, there’s a chance I would make an enemy or two. Let me just be clear that from now on I plan on speaking my mind and not holding back what I have to say.
The most important part of this evening was the movie. Now, I am the type of girl that cannot stand epics. Take Troy, for example, this is Michael’s favorite movie. I can’t stand it. Robin Hood had enough humor and Russell Crowe being handsome to keep me interested.
Why, hello there.

                                                                                                       
This is one man both 
myself and mother agree is goofy-smile-on-your-face-when-you-look-at-him handsome.

 

 

 

The moral of this post is that if you’re a man, this movie is quite action-y, and if you’re a woman, this movie is quite russel-crowe-partially-nudey. Michael is probably going to have a fit when he reads this…haha!

Happily Ever After, Until She Comes Home

Something I thought about the other day. A question I asked myself:

A girl met a boy, and a boy met a girl. They knew it was meant to be.
Ice cream dates and talking all night. They knew it was meant to be.

But deep down, they knew it couldn’t last forever. They knew they couldn’t stay together.
Their love was secret, beautiful, real, but that didn’t mean a thing.

He was called back to home, a sorrowful parting, and she kept her sadness a secret.

He returns with a ring on his hand, but this isn’t his choice nor hers.
What happens then? Is there much of a point?

Why you continue to pursue what you know is true. The point is love, of course. I’m not talking love on paper, the signing of a contract. I’m talking true love here.

But, I thought she said she’d never be the other woman? You’d be surprised at what you would do if you know that their love isn’t there and theirs is true.

It’s a terrible secret to have to carry around. Sometimes she may wonder if she will find someone else that she can be with. Sometimes she may wonder if He, who knows best, will make it all work out in the end; happily ever after.

It must kill her inside to love him so much. It must kill him inside to know he loves her and not the once he shares his life with. Love shouldn’t hurt, right? Love knows no bounds, right? That’s what we were always taught as children. Grow up, find our one true love, and live happily ever after. Happily ever after. It sounds like such an easy thing to do.

What would you do if you met the person you knew you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, but knew it wasn’t ever going to happen?

 

AMZ

The Pickles Show!

Friday, after gorging ourselves on all you can eat barbequed pork and other southern classics, We arrived home to hear this sound. It was an odd sound, like a little girl saying “Ow, ow, ow.” Mom said its the kitten she tried to save the other day, but got away from her.
After meowing at it for ten minutes, and it meowing back, I discovered it was inside of my neighbor’s shed. What a good time to meet my neighbor for the first time! Michael and I managed to grab it and bring it inside.
  Her name is Pickles. Though my friend Sjaan never got to meet Pickles, she decided this awesome name.
Pickles cries like a baby, probably because she still is a baby. Apparently her voice box is messed up, because her cute kitten meow is silent, though she still tries. And her scared, abandoned meow is loud and sad. You can’t leave her alone, or she will cry. In the short 24 hours that I had Pickles in my home, she went from deathly scared of people, to loving us dearly. She went from starving and skinny to fat and happy. She went from orphan to adopted. She followed us around the house and the yard because she knew we were her family. She would climb up my shirt and nuzzle me, and I’d nuzzle back as a good mom should. It is a sign of love.
Pickles left us, the foster family, to live with Leslie and Mona. Leslie is a dear friend of the family, and Mona is her kitty. It was kitty love at first sight when Leslie came to get Pickles. I knew she was going to a good home and a good family.
 
Even now, two days after Pickles “moved,” I am sad that she is gone. I know she would have been lonely in our house during the day. I know we would have a hard time with buying food and such, but boy is she a great kitty. She learned to use a litter box in two days! I guess I feel this way because I don’t have any pets other than my Betta Fish, Sgt. Pepper. You can’t hold a fish, and they’re just using you for food. Fish are jerks.
I know I want a cat when I have my own place, I just want to make sure it’s special. Not some mean cat. That’s what I liked about Pickles. She was rescued, and she was thankful.
I am happy because Pickles is happy in her new home, and Leslie is happy to have her. My own special kitty is out there when I am ready for it.

Peace, Love, and Pudd’n Pops,
AMZ