How about that?
2006-03-15 17:09:53 ET

You're upbeat, insightful, effervescent and imaginative.

Sometimes a little too imaginative... You're all about the subtext, about what's going on between the lines. You very rarely take anything at face-value.

You also have a tendancy to be a little neurotic and self-absorbed, and fall for guys who are either (for the most part) emotionally unattainable or completely wrong for you.

That's okay, though, everyone loves you anyway. You're very well-liked. You always have a shoulder for your friends to cry on or an ear for them to gossip in. High-profile and fun, you're the life of the party.

Carrie quotes:
"You can't make friends with a squirrel. Squirrels are just rats with cuter outfits."

"I'm thinking balls are to men, what purses are to women. It's just a little bag but we'd feel naked in public without it."

"The only thing I've ever successfully made in the kitchen is a mess. And several small fires."



Which Sex and the City Player Are You? Find out @ She's Crafty
3 comments

Checking the Situation...
2006-03-15 10:05:48 ET

Anyone else going to Montclair on the 25th to see Westbound Train?

Just wondering...

Tango Shoes ~ Bif Naked

When we're together,
I am alone.
I dawdle down the street, shuffle my feet,
Don't wanna go home.
There's an antique store.
I go inside.
All I got on me
Is only twenty bucks and my pride.
(That's when I see them!)

My new tango shoes,
They are my treasure, they are so cool!
My new tango shoes,
They are my ticket, my tools.
My new tango shoes,
Are gonna help me dance away from you.
My new tango shoes.

Like Cinderella, I am transformed.
Suddenly I'm taller
You're smaller
I am reborn.
With new courage,
I go downtown.
To find you sitting at our table,
girls all around.
(and they see my...)

My new tango shoes,
They are my treasure, they are so cool!
My new tango shoes,
They are my ticket, my tools.
My new tango shoes,
Are gonna help me dance away from you.
My new tango shoes.

...see my sexy metamorphosis
right before your angry eyes...
I stick a red rose in between my lips,
Turn on my heel,
Dance out of your life.

You told me you love me.
That was untrue.
Now that we're over,
this dance is for you.
Tango!

My new tango shoes,
They are my treasure, they are so cool!
My new tango shoes,
They are my ticket, my tools.
My new tango shoes,
Are gonna help me dance away from you.
My new tango shoes.

Huh...something like that
2006-03-15 10:04:47 ET

I'm really digging in the garbage trying to find something that matters.
~Joan of Arcadia

What a beautiful letter!
2006-03-14 16:18:26 ET

I got this perfectly lovely letter in my email today. I had to post it here for posterity. Everyone say "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww"...

"I was thinking this morning about last night. When I
came to pick you up, your father was working on a
puzzle of a lighthouse (I personally feel it is much
better to see one in person than to look at a picture,
but I digress.) Connect edge pieces first, then
lighthouse pieces, then the sand pieces. Match these
segments to the picture on the box, and complete the
picture.

You are my puzzle. I am trying to make the pieces fit
one another, but I do not have the picture on the box
as a guide. Everyday, every time we talk, I seem to
find a new piece that I have to attach to the others,
(or at least think I do, but I sometimes seem to be
looking at the same pieces from different angles.)

Even though it is harder when you do not know how the
pieces fit, I look forward to finding the new pieces,
and trying to figure out their relation to the others.
The swings, the beach, giraffes, tiger lillies. Your
hazel eyes, red hair, cute little nose, your firm
lips. Chick lit, horror movies, karaoke, ska.

What will the final picture look like? Will I ever be
able to complete the picture? Part of me wants to
know NOW. That part is wrong. The excitement and the
passion come from discovering the new. They come from
examining every facet from every angle. They come
from taking joy in the emerging picture, hopefully a
picture with no edge pieces. For I would hate to
discover that your beauty, physically and
intellectually and spiritually, was bound, could not
increase, forever trapped in a form not created by
you.

This is how I feel..."



obligatory lyrics

Must Be Dreaming- Frou Frou

"Pay close attention
Don't listen to me from now
George'll be flying this one
And it's anyones guess how he does
This is the right turn, wrong universe
Taking me in full bloom
Fireball careful with that there
See what you made me do?

I must be dreaming or
We're onto something
I must be dreaming for
I don't fall in love lawlessly
I must be dreaming or
Pinch me to waking
So undeniably yours
As long as I'm losing it so completely

Incendiary glance
Become and collide in me
Soon and in hearts, oh
While I go helplessly sky high
Magic eye sugar rushing
Don't stop

I must be dreaming or we're onto something
Hey just watcha make me for
I don't fall in love lawlessly
I must be dreaming or
Pinch me to waking so undeniably yours
As long as I'm loosing it so completely
Euphoria
Oh, can't take any more of ya
I'm losing it

I must be dreaming or we're onto something
Hey just watcha make me for
I don't fall in love lawlessly
I must be dreaming or
Pinch me to waking so undeniably yours
As long as I'm loosing it so completely"



2 comments

Biblical Connections
2006-03-14 16:11:09 ET

This must be how the prodigal son's father felt. This has to be the exact same feeling...huh...weird.

Obligatory Lyrics:

What Hurts the Most ~ Rascal Flatts

"I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That donít bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
Iím not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend Iím ok
But thatís not what gets me

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryiní to do

Itís hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But Iím doiní It
Itís hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and Iím alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, liviní with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

Not seeing that loving you
Thatís what I was trying to do"

Denile
2006-03-14 03:10:28 ET

I'm beginning to think that I'd rather not talk about the trauma.
If we don't acknowledge it maybe it will go away.
Let's just talk like old friends.
Maybe go dancing.
Maybe see a movie.
Better yet, let's be entirely swallowed up by denile.
Let's pretend it never happened.
The fire never occured.
Take a card from the best of psychos and block it entirely from our minds.
Maybe let's not even talk. We've done far too much of that already.
Let's just sit in the silence.
Better yet, let's just get in the car and drive until we fall into the Californian ocean.
We won't wave goodbye to the hills and mountains until we're too far to be stopped.
The west coast sun is waiting to devour us and the Pacific breezes are whispering their siren song.
Forget this.
Forget this miserable east coast existence.
Drive.
1 comment

Strike a deal
2006-03-14 03:02:52 ET

Each morning I cross my fingers and toes.
I hold my breath until I turn blue.
Each morning I bargain with God.
Each morning the tears slide down the steering wheel.
Even He is silent.

Plea for salvation
2006-03-12 20:15:18 ET

Silently, you sit watching me. I know you're there, watching. I can hear you breathing. Perhaps trying to think of what to say? Say anything. You don't have to fix it all in one word. Say anything. Say that you miss me. Say that you're trying. Yell out "stop!". Force me to turn around. Force me. Force me to wait. Save me from what I might do. You don't have to fix it all at once. Step forward from the crowd, gather me into your arms, kiss my forhead and whisper in my ear that you still love me. Stop me. Stop me for your own sake, stop me for my own sake. Stop me dead in my tracks. Stop me, stop me from turning my back on you. Turn me around. Say anything. Mumble for God-sake. Say anything. Say what you feel, what you think, what you want? I'd take what you want. That would be good. Saying anything has the power to save me. Grab me by the shoulders and turn me around. Sit side by side with me, like so many years ago, and let's dig through all the crap on the table. Say anything. Move God-damn you, move. Breathe. Wake up and save me.

Guess how much. Go ahead, guess.
*******
It's more than that.

A good little woman waiting at home
2006-03-12 20:04:14 ET

On our first year anniversary, you gave me a list of all the things we had done together in that year and you tied it with a note that said "preserve your memories. They're all that's left you."

Before that you wrote in your personal diary: "This is a last ditch effort to right the past and kill the lonely." I wonder what that meant.

It's not the same...he hasn't earned the right to take me onto dark, back roads. He hasn't earned the right to delve into the places you once walked in so surefootedly.

He holds my hand but it's not you.
We have late night conversations, but it's not your voice.
We travel, but the stop lights where we used to wait for the green are double edged swords that pierce with amazing accuracy.
He says he loves to see my hair blow back when I ride the swing, but the fire in his eyes isn't the same.
The scenery is all the same as our car speeds by but when I turn and the seat beside me is void of your warmth, I could cry.
I go, but I'm incomplete.
I move and talk and function but it's all autopilot.
I remember how I used to stand on my porch and wave with both hands high above my head until you were well out of sight. I loved you so.
I even loved the curve beside your lip and crinkles near your eyes.
I'd kiss them now if given the chance. Then I'd pull you up close to my heart, curl beside you with my hand on your chest and sleep. I'd sleep the peaceful sleep of someone in their comfort zone. I'd sleep the sleep of someone who knows they are safe.
I remember holding on before you left. You'd come back safe from "the war". But now, I just don't don't know...I wait and I watch. Every day I hope for word. Every day the silence grows ever deeper the divide ever wider. The fierce loyalty of my heart cries out: How long, how long? How long until I am whole again? How long must I wait? How long must I endure? How long must the silence divide us? How long? **weeps**

Ya mon!
2006-03-09 15:56:30 ET

Shout out to all the rudebwoys and girls in the states - I'm home!

I'll post a rundown and pictures from Jamaica as soon as the pics. get developed. It was so beautiful - everything about it, really. And, dancing the Ska with an actual Jamaican is a thing of gorgeousness. They move like fluid motion...**sigh** I wish I was back there!
2 comments

Huzzah!
2006-02-28 14:49:39 ET

Jamaica here I come! YAY!

**claps hands and capers about**
6 comments

Illegitimi Non Carborundum
2006-02-28 03:05:25 ET

Don't Let the Bastards Grind You Down ~ The Toasters

"Each day I wake up in this gray old town
Each day the system tries to bring me down
With a minimum wage in the factory
I'm slaving in the Twentieth Century

And the whole damn world
Is gangin up to bring me to my knees

And now the neighbors make it loud and clear
That they want no ravers moving in around here
I wont play ball, wont do what i'm told
I'd rather be a square peg in a round hole

Don't let the bastards grind you down!
Don't let them grind you down!
Don't let the bastards grind you down!
Don't let them grind you down!

I'm living in a world where I don't really fit
Every day walking through the same old shit
I'm gonna get my gun, gonna get prepared
I'm not impressed and I'm not scared

Don't let the bastards grind you down!
Don't let them grind you down!
Don't let the bastards grind you down!
Don't let them grind you down!

Me say the war must stop
No one canna win
Ah we livin in da ghetto
On da streets of dis town
Ah da whole world
I said dis a one
...you a man
You stand up firm gotta stand up strong
Listen ghetto youth dis how we keep in da land

Don't let the bastards grind you down!
Don't let them grind you down!"

Inner Monologue...
2006-02-27 17:08:03 ET

"Ok, Shiny, you've got this really nice guy hanging on the line; the same guy who lets you know he's thinking about you during the day and has the potential to actually inspire some sort of romanticism in you. You are able to talk to him. He's educated. He wants to continue that education which means he's smart. And you can talk to him like an equal. You have a lot in common. He's self-sufficient. There's every possibility that he may actually like you more than you like him. You don't think he's actually in this to hurt you do you? You're not going to let what Chris did to you jade you are you? You're not going to become some scared, embittered woman are you? You're so much better than that. There's every possibility that this man may actually treat you like you deserve to be treated. If it isn't all that you think it could potentially be it's not like you're not marrying him. You don't know if he can support you but who cares because you don't even know if it's going in that direction. All you know is that there's every indication that your life could be filled with flowers and silver linings again. If you would just give the guy a chance he might actually start to try to woo you. There's every reason to believe that he's the old-fashioned romantic you've been waiting for and you're sitting here trying to contact a ghost. You're sitting around trying to reach through the abyss and turn back time. Snap out of it, you silly girl. If he loved you at all he wouldn't be shutting you out. If one word he had uttered in the throughs of death had been true he'd be falling over himself to stop this from happening. Once a liar, always a liar. My suggestion to you: stop it. You're being ridiculous. Move it on."

I should listen to me.
1 comment

Passion
2006-02-27 03:19:41 ET

"Passion... it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws... and howl. It speaks to us, guides us; passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead." -- the venerable Ty King

The Dead of Winter...
2006-02-25 19:11:14 ET

Into The West ~ Annie Lennox

"Lay down,
your sweet and weary head.
Night is falling.
You have come to journeyís end.

Sleep now,and dream
of ones who came before.
They are calling,
from across the distant shore.

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see.
All of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my arms,
youíre only sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
All souls pass.

Hope fades,
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.

Donít say,
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling.
You and I will meet again.
And youíll be here in my arms,
Just sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
Grey ships pass
Into the West."

I suppose it could go either way...

Jump to page: [Previous] 1 2 3 4 5 6 » 20 [Next]
Back to ShinyStar's page