When you look into the mirror, think not upon how others perceive you; instead, think about how God sees you. To Him, you are the most beautiful thing on earth. And that's all that matters.
Please feel free to comment. I'd love to hear what you think of my feeble attempts to convey my thoughts, feelings, and imaginings.
You Are a Cappuccino
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You're fun, outgoing, and you love to try anything new.
However, you tend to have strong opinions on what you like.
You are a total girly girly at heart - and prefer your coffee with good conversation.
You're the type that seems complex to outsiders, but in reality, you are easy to please
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You Are a Mermaid
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You are a total daydreamer, and people tend to think you're flakier than you actually are.
While your head is often in the clouds, you'll always come back to earth to help someone in need.
Beyond being a caring person, you are also very intelligent and rational.
You understand the connections of the universe better than almost anyone else.
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Your Career Type: Artistic
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You are expressive, original, and independent.
Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art.
You would make an excellent:
Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor
Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer
Dancer - DJ - Graphic Designer
Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor
The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.
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Some people have a shoe fetish. Or a purse fetish. Maybe even a hat fetish. While I do quite enjoy the searching for, purchasing, and wearing of all these items, I'd have to say I have instead a journal fetish. That's right, I LOVE journals! I tend to use different journals for different things, and have at least two or three going at any one time. I'll think of any excuse to buy a cute journal that catches my eye, and have quite a few that I haven't started to write in yet. There's so much potential in an empty journal; blank pages waiting to be filled with hopes and dreams, heartbreaks, secrets, lists and general ramblings. I always have expectations when I start a new journal to create these eloquent works of art in my writing, but I usually end up with splotched pages, doodles, and even half-written entries. While this disappoints me slightly, it will never stop me from writing in and loving my journals. =:^)Bethie
I've been having this recurring daydream; I'm taking a walk down in the woods by the creek, when this guy comes up and asks if he can walk with me. He's cute, so of course I say 'sure'. We start chatting, and, long story short, we start hanging out, fall in love, and get married... down by the creek. Fat chance of that happening. But anyway, its a nice daydream; so much nicer in my head than in print.
It's absolutely gorgeous down by the creek right now; all the snow's melting/ed up in the mountains and the creek is rushing and roaring through the normally quiet wood. The atmosphere down there is enchanting; cool and damp on a hot day, and the wet cedar smell is one of my favourite fragrances! If only bottled cedar fragrance smelled a little more like that and a little less like chemicals... Anyway, can't wait to go for another walk down there!
Voices; from the left and the right, pushing their way through my thoughts.
A plethora of tones, styles, and words; the resonance an incessant drone, rising and falling in volume and intensity, punctuated by a laugh or exclamation.
Voices, male and female, blend together in harmony and dissonance. Voices happy and sad, loud and soft. No words to make out; just people talking, and talking endlessly.
A symphony performed by oblivious musicians. People unmindful of all but those with whom their voices connect.
I stand, bid farewell to the cafe, and leave the voices behind.
I saw this picture on
Doorways Around the World and really loved it because it totally made me think of the Josh Groban song 'Mi Morena'. Whenever I hear that song, I imagine a girl dancing in an Italian or Sicilian cobblestone courtyard, clothed in a beautiful white dress. She has long, flowing, dark hair, and a wreath of flowers on her head. She's dark-skinned, beautiful, barefoot, and is wearing bracelets and anklets. There's the faint sound of someone playing Spanish guitar coming from some open window, and she's dancing in the rain. Of course she thinks she's alone, but unbeknownst to her, the man who loves her is silently watching from his balcony, just drinking in the sight of her; the rain making her dress and hair cling to her body as she twirls with arms outstretched.
(Photographer: Melinda Brovelli of
Melinda Trips 2007. This doorway is in Sciacca, Sicily.)
I went on down to the bridges of life and met my Grandma there
She sprayed on too much perfume, and turned blue, and didn't know what to do
And her hair all fell out.
Eden Dyck, 4 years old
