Usually the internet calms me at night when I can't sleep. I'll watch QVC or HSN like I used to do at my dad's house when I was worried about my brother coming home sober (or at all). Tonight it just seems sad, like the whole world is just gone insanely wrong somehow. For every picture that I find of someone saving kittens or a puppy rescued from a ( Read more... )

 themonicabird.com/post/3273155431/date-a-girl-who-reads-date-a-girl-who-spends-her

I didn't write that, but I think it's lovely. Speaking of lovely, it's lovely to be writing again- I haven't written anything of any length in fiction yet, but I'm writing poetry and trying to keep a daily journal. Which is why I'm here, incidentally. MY paper ( Read more... )

Tell the world ( Read more... )

 With my eyes closed, I can smell the dewy grass and taste the onion bagel with cream cheese that I had an hour ago. It's a little salty, a little sweet, and a whole lot of bad breath. Everything my fingers touch  is wet and even though the sun is warm, it's chilly outside. I would be shivering without my sweatshirt. There are people talking around ( Read more... )

 Everyone has bad days and good days. On my bad days, I'm jealous and sad; I talk down to myself and think things that aren't completely true. I make mountains out of molehills and I forget that people are basically good. In the winter and especially in the city it seems like it's harder to be myself- my boss had to lecture me about saying no to ( Read more... )

 I've started to write again thanks to John, a friend from home. I've always been a writer, whether it's here or in a paper journal...whatever. It's not always personal stuff, but sometimes it is. Sometimes it's short stories or ideas that I have that I find important enough to write down ( Read more... )

There's a little box that I keep on the furthest corner of my bookshelf. To most, it looks like a plain cardboard box covered in magazine clippings, because that's exactly what it is. The clippings are  from rowing and sports magazines, and they say inspirational things that make me smile. The box itself is special to me because Megan carefully cut ( Read more... )

I'm starting to feel a little as though I've lost my voice. Not that I'm sick, but that the inner monologue that used to run on constant overdrive has somehow been silenced. Squashed ( Read more... )

 What would I do if I knew I could not fail?

I'd quit my job and open a bakery.

I'd also open the national rowing museum.

And try out for the national women's rowing team.

In approximately that order. 

The Rainy Day ( Read more... )