First off, before we do anything else, I think we need to sing a nice Birthday Celebration song for a Sweet Potato Queen. You know who you are, so slip into some Civil Era finery and go out on the town to celebrate. I'd offer to join you if I weren't so far away (but then I would need some finery of my own to wear, and I don't have the green velvet curtains to spare).

As any trade wind will tell you, few things are more amusing that convincing other people to play with your toys. If you are a little girl with older brothers who played with your dolls and ponies, you know what I am talking about. Irony is the most amusing entertainment in the world. For instance, my roomie playing with my pilates ball--very amusing. Not as amusing as him thinking I could hold his feet while he does sit-ups, but that is dependent on what sort of humor you like.

The real highlights of the day came from my ladies, of course. I forgot about the basketball game until I was driving past the Coliseum in the general direction of a dessert-oriented food place of choice. This is fortunate or I would have missed spending time with a friend that I haven't got to spend much real life time with in a long time. We filled ourselves with sugar and reminisced while our ice turned to water (oh, come on, you knew I was going to mention water). Then we swept ourselves off to our homes through fascinating traffic conditions. My wife decided to add to my overall happiness by sending me a random link. Perhaps, someday soon, I will have some more of her fabulous artwork inspired bu this and my own obsessions to decorate my world. The collage of my cube gets better and better with each passing day.

Be happy in that which you do. Cultivate a spirit of gladness in your homes. Subdue and overcome all elements of anger, impatience, and unbecoming talk one to another. ~Gordon B. Hinckley

I call them nails, but they were long claws
For digging the earth, and I know she gnaws
Holes through the pews of some groundhog lair
Remembering me and all that we used to share
From scaring the neighbors to annoying the cats,
Making the most of capers and our little spats
Where she'd nibble her nails, frustrated with me
And wish she were dating the fame of Punxutawney

Ah, it is February the 2nd and we celebrate the splendor of the pride of Pennsylvania again. A little scamp in a salt and pepper coat of fur has taken the hearts of millions over the years, and then dashed their hopes of an early spring. For those uneducated in Bella-speak, I once lived with a pet groundhog, so this day usually elicits some weird ranting from me.

I have not had the pleasure of playing with any abnormal fuzzy creatures today though. I had my standard fight with Ziggy and Rodney concerning my wakefulness and then trundled off to work. All these fiche are eventually going to go away and then I will have to find a new form of entertainment. In the meantime, my boss will have to carry a shield and earplugs to ward off my random rants about the inefficiency and annoyance of the GPO. Go ahead, feel bad for the guy.

So what else do I have to report? I have a minor truffle addiction. Okay, it's a major truffle addiction. I have been experimenting with making my own. I knew this was a bad idea, but now my mouth and tummy know it, too. They shall reach new heights of addiction and overdoses on sugar and chocolate. Oh, but what a way to spend a day. I might be single for the Hallmark Holiday, but I will definitely have the tastiest box of candy on the block. Mmmmm...chocolate.

It amazes me how many times I can repeat myself and not be heard. Not that it matters, right? Eventually, I am going to lose all my Christian goodness and stop being nice to people. In a world where people take each other for granted and figure they don't need to follow simple directions, I am tossed about on waves of mild annoyance on a regular basis. Why do I even try? I should hand out paper bags, pots and pans, and tell them to make their own fun.

After that, I should sign them up for rudimentary English. I am not sure that will help. Can you actually teach people to understand? Can you teach them that when you say you will do something or will be somewhere that you should be there or do that thing? I don't think so. So few people in the world feel at all obligated to do what they say they will, but they often expect you to keep your part of an agreement, anyway. They also are more than free in expecting you to make them look good. I am no beautician. I am just a hobbit on her way from the door to the cave. Yeah, I don't expect you to get that. Nope, hon, not even you.

Somewhere in my clouds are a silver lining. I just have to go find them. Perhaps, with the help of a black sheep. Here, lil' sheepie. Come to Bella!

The world today speaks a great deal about love, and it is sought for by many. But the pure love of Christ differs greatly from what the world thinks of love. Charity never seeks selfish gratification. The pure love of Christ seeks only the eternal growth and joy of others. ~Ezra Taft Benson

We all want our little places of peace. We have our one place we try to keep clean and orderly. Yes, even the goddess of love, with the tangles woven into her heart and the pile of unfinished projects waiting for her to stop and breath and then tackle them, wants a place of peace, a place of order. Of course, my place of order has been disrupted. It's a triumvirate of leadership that just doesn't work, especially when Cesar and Brutus and Julius are not all working with one purpose, let alone (in two cases) the right purpose no matter how good their intentions may be. Yet I have spent a while trying to keep everyone happy (going out of my way and wasting my precious time--precious because I don't have as much of it as my week desires--even now after all this time of not crunching the numbers). Shall I crunch the numbers again?

The average work week is 40 hours, I spend at least 12 hours a week at the church for activities (52), the average person should sleep 8 hours a night (108), now if I went for ideal I would take at least a half hour for each of my 3 meals a day (119), then I have travel time which if I want a nice average would be about 20 minutes to and from for my approximate 9 trips a week (121). So I have a total of 121 hours covered right there, which leaves me with 47 free hours. Of course, anyone who has driven in this town knows that even the shortest round trip takes longer than 20 minutes, especially in the hobbitmobile. And anyone who has paid any attention to me knows that I spend more than the average of 12 hours doing church-related things (and I am not talking about when I hang out with my friends). Oh, I forgot to calculate in an average of an hour a day trying to keep in touch with friends or console the ones who have trauma (128). This brings me down to 40 hours. I could get another job (except for the inexact measurement of my time allotment). I spend at least half an hour a day trying to explain to someone whether it be here or through some other medium that I am busy and can't be their beck-and-call girl, especially since they can't afford me. (I'm worth at least $4,500. I got an estimate on that recently. *snickers*) But that is neither here nor there. I am just busy, let it be and quit trying to explain me because from what's getting back to me, you missed half of what I said, anyway.

I did find my silver lining for yesterday, btw. I like to call her Mrs. Bella. My wife let me steal her newspaper so I could complete the crossword. With some help from my daughter-in-law and brother-in-law, I filled in every space. I double-checked and they looked correct. Also, my friend Micah did plan out a fun evening. The idea of whacking balls with paddles, sticks, and little foos men doesn't really do much for me, but listening to their trash talk does.

Today's silver lining, however was more intriguing. A girl was kind enough to propose to me on behalf of a boy. He was a bit too overwhelmed by brownie goodness to instantly deny the offer. Too bad I didn't have a ring pop handy? Or lucky for the boys of the world? Who knows? I'm too tired to know. Sweet dreams.

I for one feel much safer due to some random events I witnessed today. I will overlook for a moment that the cop didn't appear to be using his signals. I will try to forget that he had a cigar dangling from two fingers and thus only two on the wheel. I do find it hard to believe that on top of that he was talking on a cell phone and still felt it was safe to drive. Makes me feel safe, warm, and fuzzy when I am walking down the streets of this wonderful town at night with it's abundance of drunk people and wild infernos. Thank goodness the Steelers won the Superbowl or we'd probably still be burning.

Then I got more confirmations that the reading comprehension of the average college student is far below what mine was in first grade. I may just be a reading prodigy, but I still find this trend rather disheartening. You can't be more blunt than I am at most times and yet people fail to grasp the obvious. Or, perhaps, despite my best attempts to be a nasty person, I am just too nice. They just assume I can't possible mean it or be disappointed with their behavior. Not that people notice much of me. I am amazed at the secrets I keep that I actually wear right out there in the open.

So what exciting news plagued me today? Aside from being plagued by idiots (my roomie likes that turn of a phrase--I think he understands), that cop was about the pinnacle of interest for me today. I wasn't even wearing a t-shirt for commentary, but luckily, I brought up Skittles and those caused many random distractions during class. I'm so talented. Anyway, off to explore other talents like teeth brushing and hobbit love procurement for cats. Don't read too much into that.

We must not lose hope. Hope is an anchor to the souls of men. Satan would have us cast away that anchor. In this way he can bring discouragement and surrender. But we must not lose hope. The Lord is pleased with every effort, even the tiny, daily ones in which we strive to be more like Him. Though we may see that we have far to go on the road to perfection, we must not give up hope. ~ Ezra Taft Benson

Never get in a battle of wits without ammunition. ~American Proverb

Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it. ~Robert Frost (does this ever apply to my day?)

How do you know someone loves you? Well, if you keep stabbing her in the back and she lets you live to do it again, she cares. I am, however, running a little low on blood (to the point of anemia), so put your knives away and quit assuming that you have any right to tell people what I think, feel, believe, or have planned. You don't. (I don't care who you are or think you are--which is more the point). It's amazing how that happens, isn't it.

So we had this meeting today. It was this big mystery meeting. I had an indication about its content when I heard it was called "Put Your Best Foot Forward." It was not, sadly, about great footwear. I may be in recovery for months to come. As a hobbit, you know that I have a deep interest in feet, the hairier the better. Well, only on male hobbits with the bravery and wisdom to rescue damsels from the prison they create by caring to make other people happy.

So this meeting was teaching us about the joy and wonder that is respecting the people you work with. They explained about the fact that you are not the only person who sees what you post in your magic cubicle. They advised us to not snoop into the lives of others (some things really aren't your business regardless of who you think you are). They cautioned us to think before we send angry e-mails. Then someone got offended that we were forced to spend two hours talking about all of this. *shakes head* I just had to hold back my budding sarcasm. Sarcasm blooms so well in adversity. Not many things do though. Squeeze too hard and they are gone before you can breath. Sad thought, isn't it.

I also got some key phrases to practice using on my coworkers. Oh, they are choice, very choice. I'd share them with you, but some of you are my coworkers and I want to surprise you. Anyway, my cat and some thick rope call. Off to the gallows or is it the shallows. It is hard to tell with bathtub kitty.

So the fabulous Valentine's Day Dinner and Dance finally went down last night. I showed up in hobbit green (bare feet and all). I brought along some cuddly, stuffed friends, dumped confetti on some tables, pushed chairs into submission, and waited for my playmates to arrive for our play date. We started with about ten people, but ended up with at least forty to fifty people. I didn't count them, just greeted them.

A few people felt conspicuous in their prom gowns and other finery until they realized other people had taken that brave leap as well. My posse and I were all appropriately dressed for a wild night of eating, dancing, and random fun (my definition pretty much involves critiquing music and playful fighting over veils or stuffed animals). Tux had not only the right name and the right attire (natural born prom king that he is), but also the right attitude. His attempts to be aloof made him the beau of the ball. At least three guys mentioned wanting to take him home, and at least two couples used him to help gage whether or not they were sitting too close (or he jumped between then to garner even more affection). Needless to say, if I felt the need to be envious, I could envy my sexy penguin. Not feeling that need these days.

I, of course, danced with those brave enough to ask, asked a few myself to keep that old skill active, danced with any inanimate object that became available, danced for a few friends sitting on the sidelines, and even made some inappropriate Tina Turner song references to one of them.

In my dreams, my friends never betray me. They never cast me aside for foolish reasons. They don't feel they are competing with me for some prize I have yet to identify. They don't feel they need to control me. They don't lie to me. They always have a moment to say "hi". They notice if I am not quite myself. In reality, none of this is the case, but as I mentioned to another friend of mine, "You can tell how much I care by the fact that they hurt me and I didn't remove their head." I have a Highlander fixation some days. You'll just have to let it go.

I received more fabulous forwards telling me to send it to all the people I love or I will have horrible luck. *shakes head* My luck could not possibly be affected by such e-mails or I would have been married my freshman year when I was still bored enough to pass those things along. If people haven't caught on that I care, it's too late for them. And even if they did, is it still too late for them?

The University is encouraging us to participate in random acts of kindness. Kindness can be interpreted many ways. It can be as simple as giving a penguin a hug or as complicated as putting up with constant, unwarranted criticism. It can even be so subtle that the person doesn't notice you were being kind until years down the road when they stop and say to themselves, "Wow, (s)he didn't have to do that at all, despite who I thought I was at the time." So, here is my act of kindness for the week, I am going to continue to treat people with the respect that they do not offer me in return. Trust me, that takes a lot more energy than giving them a Valentine's Day card or offering to do something for them and not meaning it at all. (You never know when someone is going to take you up on those offers, so don't make them unless you mean it.)

I spent much of the morning shuffling fiche. My office computer was offline, so I couldn't add line after line of informative text. Instead, I got to sort through my fiche in preparation for doing that later. I love the nice mix of computer and non-computer work that I keep handy for occasions such as these. I think our fabulous SysAdmin was shocked that I could work without a computer. Someone should let tech people know that some parts of the world still use and love paper (and fiche). By the end of the work day, I still felt that I had done an incredible amount of work. I need to learn to goof off more or the fiche might get the wrong idea, which would be that I want to be rid of them and their slender little rectangular bodies.

And to end off a wonderful day, my roomie went wild and made Ziggy her own little house. It was made from a Dell box, so she is a high-tech princess. Lil' Guy has been entertaining me by attempting to invade her space. This always results in angry words and a free show for the rest of us. Ah, to be a spoiled and scrawny little princess, eh?

Thank goodness for the single-hearted
Those who'd wait for love, not be parted
From principles for the need to be
Bound to someone for a single day or three
Just to not be alone when red and pink
Lead the heart down the path, make one think
It's a sin to not have found a lover to take
Someone to claim, to hold, someone to break
Just so they can say, "I loved him so"
I'd pretend I care, but I have to go.

Seems like people are forever lost in the horrible circle of being commanded by this world. That is the people who aren't trying to feel like they are in constant control. You know these people. They tell you how it is when they haven't lived yet (let alone died thrice). They feel compelled to explain you to people, run interference in your business, and deign to tell you how to live your life when they are so busy preening that they have no idea what has been going on in your life. This is not love, my friends. It's something sick, but it's not love. I could tell you more about the happenings of my alleged enemies than some of my "friends" could tell you about me despite their "concern" for my well-being or assertions otherwise. ("Love is a positive active force. It helps the loved one. If there is need, love tries to supply it. If there is weakness, love supplants it with strength. . Love that does not help is a faked or transient love." ~John A. Widtsoe) *shrug* C'est la guerre ou c'est la vie. Je ne vois pas une difference ces jours.

I prefer Halloween. If I must get dressed up in a costume to win the hearts of men, I would rather it make me happy at the same time. Of course, half of my wardrobe is a costume. I like to dress up as your average college student, trudge through the greasy grimy streets of this town, and just watch them. You can see a million things in their faces. I am fond of that miffed happiness of the young and truly in love and, of course, utter confusion of beholding a hobbit in hideous pants or the cloak (which it was too cold out there to wear today).

Every Halloween finds me, unsurprisingly, in the Halloween store, looking at the wings. I wish I had a pair of my very own, so I could fly away from this ungraceful world. An airplane is a nice substitute, and, heaven knows, if I could afford it, I would be on one right now, seeking out a vacation, but I am bound to the earth. Ironic, isn't it? Luckily, I have other ways to escape. My Neesa, my Leda, my Schizo, and my Boston wife have seen it, but they've all been unattainable lately. Maybe they'll surprise me with something cooler than paper hearts and roses--their presence.

Enough existentialism. It's time for me to ask how my day went. No one else is going to ask, and I might read this in twenty years and think, "Bella, baby, I wish you had written something besides how much you hate Hallmark Holidays." One of my co-workers brought in cinnamon rolls. Every one needs some cinnamony goodness to brighten their Tuesday. That gave me the energy to do what I do best. If I have to tell you what that is, your reading comprehension is a big fat zero.

I think my friends are all secretly health food addicts. Aside from the fact that they are all slender and athletic, they all seem to have spinach salad envy. I try to eat in blissful peace, but they just sit and gaze at me as if I hold ambrosia before them to tantalize them. Aside from that, I didn't get too much entertainment out of the day. Despite still having stuffed animals riding around in the back of my car, my driving experience was rather uneventful. Ah well, to tomorrow and single-hearts everywhere.

Every hobbit has their ups and downs, but mine seem to be closer to down than I want them to be most days. Having my time wasted does not help. Being stuck behind people who are chatting and refuse to let me pass in the hallway wastes my time. Long, unending conversations about movie stars wastes my time. *ring ring ring* Hello? *click click click* 'Is this Bella Ordena?' *suspicious intonation* Yes. *click click click* 'This is blah blah blah calling about something you have no interest in'. wastes my time. I am seriously thinking of charging people for my time. Perhaps, then they will think twice about wasting it when I have mentioned I am busy. Despite the fact that I don't post a detailed list of everything I want/need/must accomplish doesn't mean these things do not exist. Just because someone has some spare time during commercials doesn't mean I want to hold on the line until that spare time comes about and keep it down so as not to disturb them. It's why I like instant messenger, I can ignore people until my convenience. It is also rare to get obnoxious text messages from people you don't even know.

I know I am terrible, but the longer I wait to resolve things, the more buildup I get (of plaque, projects, and frustration). And yet I still find time to update this journal. You'd think that would be restful, getting things off my chest. I don't bare much here, though. Just imagine what lies beneath the surface that you'd never understand in a thousand years. Keep flying...

The big thing these days is sending out e-mails about "sensitivity training". Some colleagues and I attended a seminar that seems to have happened so long ago that it is barely worth mentioning (last week). I had actually forgotten about it. In fact, with how much I have been trying to accomplish lately, I am not even sure I remembered to mention it here in my lovely journal. Anyway, I feel compelled, as a silent response to e-mails on the subject, to share my thoughts on what I learned from the meeting with my lucky readers.

As always, I maintain that you get what you want out of something. This means that what I got out of this meeting may not be exactly what was said. I tend to reinterpret, usually with a happy, shiny twist in the case of meetings like this. Anyway, points to ponder:

1. When you are told to go to a meeting and paid to go to it, just make the most of it.

2. Do not smile and giggle or the person talking will assume you wish to contribute even when you feel your sarcastic humor will not be appreciated.

3. When you feel the need to send angry, spiteful, or malicious e-mails, just say "Ohm!" This word not only sounds amusing, but it saves you the effort of deflecting the flame war that ensues and saves the intended recipient the effort of having to delete the stupid thing (as well as all responses if it is on a list serve).

4. Be respectful of your co-workers' privacy. Try to ignore them no matter what personal business they feel compelled to carry on at work (especially, since you really don't want to know if they wax their eyebrows.)

5. Try to keep your personal life at home. As much as you feel justified in yelling at someone on the phone, it usually results in a cluster of disturbed looking people in the hallway staring at your office door and trying to figure out how to calm you down, so they can go back to work.

6. Don't post things in your work space that you don't want people to see. If you are trying to keep your affection for the green M&M a secret, don't plaster newly created magnets of her all over your cubicle.

7. Keep in mind that not every one thinks the way you do. Consider this a blessing.

8. Don't lend your co-workers money. Heck, don't lend anyone money. Just trust me on this one. However, if you want to give me money, please feel free. I am not feeling too proud to ask right now. (As a side note, paypal charges me about 4 bucks for each transaction, last time I checked, but you can buy a spiffy t-shirt and I'll get a few bucks, and you get a shirt designed by a healthier, more lovable web diva).

9. Don't fight with the trainer for over a half hour about things they weren't even discussing ("Would you like some cheese with that whine?"). Someone in the room probably drank too much water and needs to go to the bathroom, and they may be armed with a hefty green bottle full of water.

10. Listen to the prophet: "There needs to be a new emphasis on honesty, character, and integrity in our time. Only as we build again into the fiber of our lives the virtues that are the essence of true civilization will the pattern of our times change." ~Gordon B. Hinckley~ Ummm, okay, so my mind probably wandered during this training session.

Of course, wandering on, my thoughts seem to be nothing but scattered these days. I try to do things and people feel they must interrupt. It is all for my benefit though, isn't it? Because I need to lighten up? Yes, that must be it. It has nothing to do with their needs and the fifty things they are going to ask me to do whether I say I am busy, dying, bleeding, or trapped under a tree. I feel like I am being bled dry. Emotional anemia is not what I need right now. I need some peace. I need a vacation. I need people to not drag me into their power plays and other such contrived drama. No one sees that though. Anyway, I have some more water to drink and some things to accomplish before one of my masters tries to make more demands on what is supposed to be my free time.

I am always amazed by people's perceptions of themselves. I find myself faced with those who wrongly think they are an absolute paragon of perfection and those who wrongly think they are of no worth. Depends on my mood as to which of them I am. I realize I can suffer from either. That's why I feel okay bringing up the topic. Today, I realized that my wife doesn't realize how truly fabulous she is, so I feel like extolling her here.

Wonderful Qualities of My Hobbit Wife:

1. Has a great memory (useful for storing away trivia to answer all my burning Stargate questions).
2. Always quick to offer assistance, a smile, a hug, or a word of encouragement (trust me, that takes talent in this crazy, depressing world).
3. She is a fabulous artist (even makes caricatures of me look good ;)).
4. She is gentle and patient.
5. She shares my ability to enjoy pistachio pudding.
6. She can be quite the motivating muse (was helping me muddle through something just last night).

Of course, even I can't list all of her talents. Those were just a few that I have seen manifested in the last twenty-four hours. You don't always notice everything that you have to offer, so don't sell yourself short (not that there is anything wrong with being short).

Anyway, aside from watching a cop follow someone with their lights on for a couple of miles, little brought excitement to my world. I am not sure what was up with this. The driver of the TazTacoma decided that the cop must know the person and was playing a joke on them. They didn't seem concerned and didn't pull over, so it seems reasonable. Now we see one of the hidden benefits of being a cop--harassing your friends.

I have other ways to harass my friends, but right now I have some projects and food calling out for my attention, so I shall have to dance for you again later. And, wifey, I wuv ya:)

Someone sent me to a website to get a slogan, so I had the following choices:

"The Incredible, Edible Bella." (That is what Ziggy thinks.)
"A Bella's Too Wet Without One." (Nice in that it must be speaking of a towel and thus makes me think of the Guide [What Guide? There is only one guide.])
"Obey Your Bella." (Yeah, this one wins. Hands down! Now send me money, love, and roses.)

Among other excitement today was my return from lunch. Can you even imagine how exciting that was? After wandering through the frozen expanse between the church and the library, I had to check to make sure I still had my nose. I am not sure how long it takes to get frostbite, but with the extreme cold, not only will my car not start, but when I am out, my nose will not stop running. That's not what made my return to my desk so exciting though.

Upon my return, I noticed a box on my desk. This is not unusual since my co-workers know I love garbage and drop random things on my desk all of the time. I wandered over and picked up the box. It was too heavy to be empty, so now I had a mystery in my hands. I could have prolonged it, but I decided to open it up and see what it was. It turns out that our raise this year (as declared by the Rooster, so I am offering to sell mine to the highest bidder and the bidding starts at 10 dollars) was a mug from Elixa's (I just type what we decided the signs and the coffee mug say).

"It's 3pm and it's time to get sober." That is my official slogan for Elixa's, the new coffee shop in the library. It is a fitting slogan in this town. So the library staff decided to mingle with the happy patrons who went to the grand opening. We mixed, we mingled, we observed the abundance of Gross/Belch shirts, and enjoyed some free fruit and cookies. You know I was just there for the cookies. I sometimes wonder as I eat the flying WVs if that is akin to burning the flag. It feels kind of scandalous devouring a symbol of our esteemed university.

The rest of the day has shaped up to be less exciting. Thus I will use my phenomenal amounts of allegedly spare time to work on some allegedly non-existent projects. Time to bake the kitten...No that's not it...Hmmm...

Were there no fools, there would be no wise men. ~German Proverb

Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of could not succeed. ~Mark Twain

To love is to take delight in the happiness of another, or, what amounts to the same thing, it is to account another's happiness one's own. ~Gottfried Leibniz

I think I caught the old flair that makes this journal so endearing for a second yesterday, but can I catch it again? It's not every day that something amusing and fabulous falls into your lap. Slaps in the face from a hungry cat, a high demand for water, and random sarcasm are a given, but truly humorous moments are treasures to be enjoyed. Of course, as I observed the wonder that is my cubicle this morning, I had to ask what isn't a treasure to be enjoyed. I added a few more items to what is turning into a museum of obscure library memorabilia. Some day I will have to start charging admission to observe the exhibits on display, so collect your pennies and prepare to drop them in my donation cup.

Welcome to the fabulous fabric follies where one young hobbit remembers and sometimes recounts how much she can do with a single square of fabric. She can bake with it, create with it, clean with it, entertain with it, and get free room and board with it (blatant reference to ensuing insanity). You'd be amazed with what a hobbit can do with fabric, but that is not really the point.

After finally conquering the C's today, I felt I could accomplish anything, so upon my arrival at my house, I tackled some of the various fabric mayhem that was piled around the house. My room mate not so secretly celebrated (prematurely, I fear, since there are boxes and boxes of more fabric hiding in the other room). Okay, maybe he didn't celebrate. I realize again and again that having the wrong fabric for a project or a missing triangle of fabric can both lead to all sorts of not pretty.

Thus is my free time eaten and devoured again by agreeing to do things without full disclosure. Full disclosure? Well, that is where I know what is wanted (in detail and not having to basically make my own pattern for it--if I make a pattern it is for something that I want or want to give someone). One of the things about my job (the real one) is that I know exactly what needs done. When I get there, all of the materials I need are awaiting me. Yes, that includes more than just fiche and barcodes. I have been basically using the same pencil for three or four years, but I have thrown away dozens of freebie pens.

Mind you, I don't enjoy being dictated to, but if you tell me you want something and I produce it (game, dress, hobbit hole, party, snicker, whatever), I get a little irked when it is implied I should have known better. I try not to read minds, it is rude and leads to a loss of the ability to eat gummy bears. Anyway, the point of all of this is that at some point, I am going to have to let a lot of people down. If I don't, the Bella we all know and love is going to explode from stress and annoyance, and then who will make commentary on Elixa's, coke, and other university moments of mirth and joy?

"You don't have the power to make rainbows or waterfalls, sunsets or roses, but you do have the power to bless people by your words and smiles... You carry within you the power to make the world better..." ~Sharon G. Larsen

Ever notice how when you truly love something, you are most likely to squeeze it so hard that it dies. You criticize it, hold it to a higher standard, and clutch it so close that it suffocates. You don't want to share. You don't want to let it breathe. You don't want it to see the light. Eventually, you feel it slipping away, taking it completely out of your control. Now you must ask yourself am I talking about you or my unhealthy relationship with my cat? It could go either way, but Mr. Separation-Anxiety is not going anywhere fast (unless he is trying to get in the bathroom before I can close the door).

I am sure he thought I was trying to smother him last night though, since when I crawled into bed, he had already claimed two-thirds of the huge pillow of random dreams, half asleep prayers, and much reading. That cat has developed purring sprawl. No two cats could possibly claim as much bed as he can, not even Lil' Guy and Ziggy. He knows how to take up a bed and thus get lots of attention from the weary hobbit, which is probably his goal anyway.

A weary hobbit is a strange creature. It wants to confess its needs and ask for help. It wants to cry. It wants to write bizarre things in this journal to entertain only itself. It wants to hold onto its toes and stop them from wiggling away into madness. Not that my toes are mad, mind you. Every single one is completely sane--just like me. You are perched now on the edge of your seat, thinking, no doubt (my phrase of the moment--did you get close enough to notice?), for the confession of my desire. Find your own, darling. I learned long ago that borrowed dreams bring no one happiness.

Certainly, I have never gained joy from those who took a sudden interest in what they thought I desired. I have no intention of competing now with fools who think that imitating me or dismissing me will make them more of a whole person. Each person must find their own form of completion and I am tired of having people hack away at me. If you love me, leave me whole. Stop trying to "make me better" without any real knowledge of what is breaking me apart. No one person has all the pieces, and no group of people will be able to piece it together (particularly since I have been crawling into my shell for over a year now, seeking solace).

I will say, however, that what I want is more time. Sorry, I don't want it to give it to you. I have much to finish before dawn and barely the strength to keep my mind focused though it is not yet 8pm. And now my mind calls me down three different paths, but which can I accomplish to my own standards with my mind dancing between waves and cats racing around me like the Indy 500 of fur? Only I can say, and only I will know, on reading this again, to what I allude in these cryptic pages. Makes for a fascinating read, doesn't it?

"There are those who mock our beliefs in the most uncharitable ways. And we will bear what they do with long-suffering, for it does not change truth. And in their own way they move our work along a little faster." ~Boyd K. Packer

"If one concentrates on tossing the hair rather than the distinctive movements of the head, one can come off looking like a Muppet." ~Belinda

I love women who talk about muppets. They must be given notice on my website.

They get inside of you--these fears. They eat you up. They dig into the core of your soul. They eat away at the things you love most. Then you wake up one day and realize that all that you have is not what you were aiming to attain,. Diamonds, furs, money, delusions of admiration--all these still leave an empty pit in your world. Do you know what I mean? Having a cat wake one up at four in the morning makes one a philosopher.

I have many projects in progress even as I type. Most of them are gifts for other people. Charity is certainly one way I can clean up the overflowing piles of stuff in my house. Heh, if only I could invest as much time and energy into making things people are willing to pay for. I think people are too used to getting what they want from me for free though. *sigh* Not going to address that. It's just another random thought from my fingers to this fabulous journal.

We've started a new program at work where we try to get a certain number of points a day. I am not sure I am doing so well, but I would be doing better if I could find 1000% juice. Do you happen to have some? Would it be a powder like Tang?