Today is a day for celebrating a time when the first month of the year changed from April to January. Some people forgot and tried to celebrate on April and thus were jeered and mocked by their funloving friends and family. How shall we celebrate such a day?

I am not the best at April Fool's Day jokes. I am usually too busy trying to make sure I remember to put shoes on to concern myself with such things. I have a friend, however, who is a an April Fool's Day prankster extraordinaire. I expect to see pictures posted on the book face sometime today that prove that my compliment has not been misplaced.

The pictures arrived and they were very amusing, so kudos to the prankster. Another friend decided to join the festivities, but I fear her attempt at humor may have made many of us sad when she revealed it was a joke. I am not alone in wishing the best for my dear friend, yet she still hasn't caught the break we are all hoping for. A part of me knows that this is because something can be learned from her experiences, but another part of me wants her not to have to struggle any more. I fear that my attempts to cheer her up didn't do much good. My worry wasn't soothed as much by the sleeve of Oreos as I had hoped, so perhaps tomorrow will bring less snow and more sunshine for the people that I love no matter many thousands of miles away they may be.

A hint of life, a breath of air
I take this plunge on a dare
Feel the earth spinning away
Forgot to listen, forgot to stay
Now I plummet, seek the ground
What I seek can't be found
Outside of me, outside my time
I lose the space, find the rhyme
And others grasp, hope to catch
What I have, but each wretch
Comes up empty, not clutching gold
You can't be warmed until you're cold
And see such sights as I have seen
Lived in dives where I have been
So be yourself, you can't be me
Maybe, one day, you'll see

It is national poetry month, so I thought I'd spice this up a little. I've spent a rather uneventful but fulfilling day. My husband was nice enough to take me shopping, so we have even more paper goods in the house. Somehow, I can't resist journals and post-it notes. Someone who is more brave than I would seek counselling for such obvious signs of dementia, but I just keep buying more and piling them on the shelves. I did write in one of them today as it is time for General Conference.

Sadly, while writing down as much of the advice of those who are wiser than me gives me much spiritual exercise, my body does not get as much benefit. After eating pizza and ice cream and some bridge mix, I decided to pretend I care about the size of my rearend. I popped WiiSports into the console and treated myself to some rousing games of tennis. As I have attempted to play tennis in the real world, I felt compelled to bounce back and forth and take nice big swings. This may not have been the best method but it certainly got my heartrate up and made me sweat. I even managed to win a few matches.

I suppose I should eventually decide to make myself get a little more motion in my days. A part of me wants to have the dice help me decide. I may be missing the days of D&D though I confess that it has been so long that I may have imagined that I had that much geekiness in me. Perhaps, I shall have more for the world tomorrow. For now, my typing fingers are slowly powering down for the evening.

Shutting the door, you don't need to hear
The world is much better when no one is near
But those who tell you all you do is grand
Those others who don't see, you cannot stand
Why do they doubt you when you clearly see
You are everything they could want to be
Why should you be humble, ask for advice
You know for more than even the wise
You won't bow your head, you won't hit your knees
You fear no man, no weapon, no disease
Because you have your pride to rock you to sleep
You have your pride and no need to weep
For in your own mind you are greater than all
All the fools fearing pride before the fall
Need not warn you or offer you a hand
You've got it covered, every second planned

Everything in reach or sight
Must be yours, only right
That everything belong to you
But you would cringe if you knew
What greed denies those it owns
How softly, darkly, its power hones
On the softness of living flesh
That wants gold to be its best
So take your greed and pile it deep
That which you cover, you cannot keep
For the need itself is all you hold
As your mind goes dim, your heart cold
For want of all there is an more
But keep wanting and soon you'll be sure
Who the master is who owns it all
When your illusions crumble and fall

Another Monday has come to battle against me. I have tried to conquer it by accomplishing a few things around the house, but I can feel my Monday ennui weighing on me now that I have sat down in the hopes of writing something the world could adore. Instead, I have opened emacs and begun typing away in an attempt to fulfill my own own goal of a poem a day. I realize that I missed April Fool's Day, but I did jot down lyrics to two songs this morning, so maybe it all balances out in the long run.

I spent a splendid weekend with my husband this weekend. We watched eight whole hours of General Conference. I even managed to fill thirteen whole pages in one of my little notebooks with notes. I always get little phrases and thoughts stuck in my head after Conference. This isn't a complaint. In fact, I don't think anyone would complain if I took some of these phrases to heart:

"believing hearts, full of faith, first to love, quick to forgive" ~Jean A. Stevens

"our church can add to the good things they already have" ~Walter F. Gonzalez

"I love this work and it is work!" ~Ezra Taft Benson

"desires dictate our priorities, priorities dictate our choices, choices determine our actions" ~Dallin H. Oaks

My quotes may not be exact, but I think I got the general idea behind them correct. I need as much guidance as I can get and I feel no shame in admitting that. I think we all need help from time to time, so why not look for it from people who have experienced life? And, of course, I must remind some readers that I do not follow blindly. I have to prove the veracity of what I hear before it can shape my life. That would probably explain why I continue to struggle to maintain friendships with some people who never have time for me but expect me to always have time for them. I don't think they read this journal. I'm not even certain they read messages that I send to them and them alone. Anyway, that isn't really important, is it? Keep smiling, dear readers, and hoping that I eat a lot of chocolate before my next post so it will be peppy and interesting ;)

I don't need to move, nothing needs done today
It doesn't matter that I start every day this way
Waiting for nothing to happen with nothing to do
I don't even have time to listen to you
Too busy doing nothing to rise from my bed
I barely even let a thought enter my head
They say that I'm slothful and I'll grow fat
But I don't even have energy to believe that
So maybe you'll join me or maybe you won't
Ask me to do something, be sure that I don't

That one is definitely not an autobiography. I've already accomplished a couple of things today. The most important accomplishment is baking a couple dozen peanut butter cookies. I have only eaten two of them so far, but the day is young and gluttony is my weakness. Maybe I should write a poem about that tomorrow. The trick will be to write it without using the word "cookie".

All my pain fades away with one touch
You are the one who means so very much
That the caress of your fingers brings out
Something inside me no one dreamed about
Until love suffused them in every pore
And lifted them up, gave so much more
Than the touch of a friend or a mother
Replacement for love? There is no other
Man like you to establish my dreams
Turn moonlight into brightest sunbeams
So touch me again, hold my trembling hand
I know you feel it, I know you understand

I realize I missed updating yesterday. Poetry on demand isn't one of my skills. If it was, I could start my own greeting card company. Who wouldn't want love letters that always rhyme rose with nose and lookie with cookie?

I decided I needed to amuse myself yesterday by inflating my big blue exercise ball of doom. I still giggle hysterically when I try to do the exercises detailed in the book. Those of us who lack inner grace tend to spend more time on the floor than on the ball. At least I get some of the best medicine, laughter, when I motivate myself to attempt this fitness craze. This reminds me that I need to find out of shake weights come in blue. I have noted that all my exercise eq is blue for some reason, so if it isn't blue, it will feel like it doesn't belong. I mention this on the off chance that one of my dear readers is suddenly inspired to buy me random exercise items in the hopes I will comment on them here.

I have also been moonlighting as a baby and child entertainment center. When little children have even greater affection for hobbits, cookies, books, and penguins, I will probably be somewhat to blame. I made a game for last night's cub scout meeting that seemed to go over pretty well with the boys. The lesson called for me to ask the kids questions and I thought it would be more interesting if instead of firing off questions, I used the game board to give them a chance to have more fun with the lesson. They may have just enjoyed the tiny candy bars they got as a prize for reaching the finish line. I may even be able to use it again in the future.

My darling husband took me out to eat this evening, so I am contentedly full. He even patiently watched me eating my way through a banana split. I somehow feel compelled to try them at every place that offers them. I should probably just stay home and eat bananas instead, but we know that isn't going to happen. That would be healthy, and I fail at healthy.

My poetry muse is hiding. I may have to flush her out by baking her a cake. I wonder what sort of cake would appeal to a muse. A quick internet search tells me that muses like funfetti cake. I bought a funfetti cake mix just last week. It may be fate! I also bought a chocolate cake mix, which is recommended for fiction muses according to my unprofessional net search. Maybe, I should make a layer cake with a layer of each. It sounds yummy, even if it doesn't cure my writer's block. I have a goal for tomorrow.

My goals for today are to meet up with my writers group and hear critiques of my last submission. It wasn't my finer work, but I did submit which is a good thing for me. Hopefully, they aren't nearly as critical as I am. I have noted that I am nicer about other people's creative efforts. I suppose it is all a matter of perception, of course. They may find my many commentaries as highly critical. We do need some perspective that is outside of our heads if we hope to improve. That's what I learned when I was in school, anyway. I hear it is different these days, but that is not a topic that I should ramble about.

Teach me of things I could never understand
If you didn't step forward to take my hand
Teach of daylight, kisses, and dreams
And how gold can be as it seems
When it glitters in your eyes as we touch
Learning has never ever meant so much

Teach me of heartbreaks that never reveal
The love that my heart is learning to feel
Teach me of diamonds and all they mean
When they are meant as an emblem not to be seen
As symbols of wealth or how love is measured
If it were from you, a chip would be treasured

Teach me to sway under the breeze of your breath
That can bring from anywhere, even from death
To learn of this love and tell all who will hear
That it is a heart that must be held dear
A heart and a soul can teach me of love
That others defy because they didn't learn of
A love such as this by taking the chance
That a husband, alone, deserves their every dance

I still haven't fed my muses, so my poetry is still not at its peak. I also haven't written a single word of fabulous fiction today. I should work on that rather assiduously this week so that I have something to submit for the writing group in May. My last submission got mixed reviews that reminded me of some of my favorite facts--just because you or an established author didn't write something doesn't mean it is crap and people who are not satisfied with their own lives really shouldn't try to advise other people. No one really appreciates a grumpy pants. Know what I mean?

My darling husband and I went on a shopping spree today. I got three more journals (one of which features a sparkly cupcake), some exercise DVDs to amuse myself, and some more fabric. You really can't get better than that when you are a hobbit with simple needs. He even let me pick up some treats south of the border, which means that I refilled my stock of fire sauce packets. I really should just try to find a big jar of that delicious elixir in the store, but my brain has trouble remembering the spicy since it is hooked on the sweet.

That was my day in a nutshell. I am currently avoiding returning to the kitchen where some delicious brownies are calling out to me. I wonder if my readers have noticed how something sweet is always summoning me to the kitchen...

Bring me this
Just one kiss
I call it bliss
When we touch
And this is such
A powerful act
So I react
Like I have to
To make you
See you must do
This again
Take my hand
Like we planned
Flames fanned
By just one kiss
Bring me this

Another day has fallen into my lap and begged to be used to make the world a better place. Like most people, I start making the world a better place by weeding my own garden. As everyone should be painfully aware, I don't actually have a real garden, but I do have other areas that need my attention. I have weeded through my recipe box this morning and discovered a couple dozen recipes that I haven't even tried yet. Guess who has a husband who is going to be looking at his food suspiciously this week.

I have also been trying to motivate myself to update more often. I need to stretch my creativity muscles before they atrophy. Today's goals include a few potential stories for the fiction blog and revising the piece that got critiqued on Friday. My brain has had some time to mellow out and absorb the best of the advice, so I should be able to produce something better by Sunday.

I fear that this new found interest in my creative muscles is an attempt to avoid activating the physical ones. The most exercise I seem to get is when I obsessively clean or play with the big blue exercise ball. My husband has started calling me Scrat since I keep throwing myself on the ball and bouncing around. I also have found it to be a very cooperative dance partner. I might need to stop eating so much sugar before the men in white coats are summoned to protect me from myself.

Pitter, patter of rain falling down
My desire to move can drown
In this sound as I fall back to sleep
And feel myself falling ever so deep
No dreams to taunt me or call me to wake
The rain keeps calling, my will to take
And as I snuggle closer, rain still sings
What apathy this rain brings

Obviously, yesterday's rain drowned my motivation. I am still hoping to add an entry to the fiction blog today, however. I went a whole month without contributing to my own grand design. I'm just not a very motivating boss, I guess.

I did do a little research on cookies the other day. Apparently, people will pay about a dollar a cookie (before adding shipping and handling) to have delicious cookies delivered to their door. I am not accepting orders, so feel free to send some requests (and money). I might actually want to run some numbers because I think I could still afford my chocolate chips if I sold my cookies for less than a dollar apiece. I'd still need to charge shipping though. Don't let that discourage you, place an order ;)

I also got to answer my door to yet another random stranger. I have no clue why people knock on my door so often. At least this one didn't try to hit on me in order to convince me to buy magazines. Such methods tend to creep me out rather than make me buy something though I had a roomie who bought some magazines once. I think he was afraid the guy wouldn't leave without selling something. I informed yesterday's unwanted visitor that I didn't want to be featured on hoarders, so I would save him some time by letting him know up front that I had no intention of buying anything for any reason. He did thank me "for being so cool" before wandering off to knock on his next door. I still question my coolness, but I am glad other people see it waving at them from time to time.

I believe we can change the world with desire
I believe pure hearts and souls set the fire
That can burn the world or keep it warm
And we have the right to assure it does no harm

I believe we make our mysteries
I believe we can cure any disease
That brings our world to its knees
By sinking to ours to offer pleas

I believe love is our reward when we give
I believe all of us have the right to live
In a world that inspires us to reach
For hopes and dreams, so we can teach

I believe our hearts inspire us to be
I believe in that which I cannot see
So listen a moment, listen with me
Our faith can sustain us into eternity

After months of discouraging myself, I finally added an entry to the fiction blog. Please feel free to comment. I love feedback, don't we all?

Anyway, I spent another delightful afternoon entertaining a little girl. My wrists may not be too happy about this experience despite her sweetness. I say this because my wrists are weak. With my limited knowledge of babies and airplanes, I shall make a top ten list. Feel free to send me an e-mail correcting my assumptions, so I can post a revision. Thanks.

TOP TEN REASONS WHY BABIES ARE LIKE AIRPLANES (PRE-CORRECTIONS)

10. You can tell the state of their engine by their emissions.
9. They need constant maintenance.
8. They cost more than people who don't truly love them would imagine.
7. They can make you smile without even trying.
6. It is an art to interpret their noises.
5. No two are the same.
4. They need constant refueling.
3. They prefer to be in the air.
2. Once you have one in your life, your life changes (even if it isn't your own).
1. They're worth everything that you put into them.

Everything slips and slides
And smoothly glides
Eggs, pancakes, so much more
We never cooked before
Because we didn't want to clean
This is why we live the Teflon dream

I feel the need to vent about the horrendous driving behaviors of people around me. I realize that driving down a road whose posted speed limit is only forty miles per hour can wear on one's patience. However, the desire to not get pulled over for speeding or the less selfish desire not ram into someone who is pulling out of a driveway you can't see on a curvy road should motivate one to be a little less aggressive. I find that this is not the case. As I was driving down the road at almost precisely the speed limit, another car appeared from nowhere. Okay, it didn't appear from nowhere. It came flying at me from somewhere on the road behind. It continued to ride my bumper for the next couple of miles, weaving back and forth as if thinking about passing me on either side. When it got even closer to my bumper, I checked my speed thinking I had slowed down only to find that I was now officially speeding. When we finally reached a point where they could pass me, they zoomed around me and ran a red light. As the car disappeared into the distance, I couldn't help but notice two sets of pigtails and what looked like a third passenger sitting in the passenger seat. Really?

On my return trip, I was plagued by another annoying driving habit. I was coming up on a red light where I wanted to get into the right hand turn lane. There wasn't enough space to get around the car in front of me since the lane hadn't formed yet. Glancing in my rear view, I noticed that the person behind me was swerving into the narrow piece of pavement between our existing lane and a sidewalk like he was going to go around me. As if that didn't irritate me enough, he wasn't even using a signal. Is it really that hard to practice a little common sense and courtesy on the road?

My major achievement of the day was filling up the DVR. I love the free trial weekends but they can fill up my little buddy super fast. I just hope I manage to watch some of my older recordings before they disappear into the ether. It has happened before, and I am still not fully recovered. Anyway, I should get to that. Maybe I will tell you how I feel about some of the movies I recorded today in about two months ;)

Pounding, pounding, pounding through my head
Footsteps, hoof beats of the dead
Echoing through where no one dwells
Hoping my words their story tells
Brings them to life though long ago
Heart stopped beating, they ceased to grow
Closer to me, but they do not know
That their time has long past
So they come to me, ask me to cast
A curtain around them, shroud them in phrase
And thus the pounding my sleep delays
Pounding, pounding, pounding beats thought away
And I am lost in some echo's sway

These are the ones we love
These ones we can't ignore
They are all we dreamed of
They know who we were before
They hold our hearts so close
That we can not live
If we don't get our daily dose
All we have, we will give
These are the ones we love
They touch us in subtle ways
They fit to us like a glove
They play the songs that inspire
And give us time to think,
Pull us back from encroaching fire
When we are on the bring
These are the ones we love
Who remind us of our vitality
And promise to return that love
Into the heart of eternity

Flying out of nowhere, falling to the ground
Hold your head up, don't make a sign
Everything is lost when we go down
But we won't sigh, nor will we frown
We'll win this game before its through
We'll win in on the backs of a few
So hold on tight no matter what you do
Hold onto the ball or they'll blame you

I spent most of the weekend watching television. The last time I checked, I was barely up to having ten percent available for more media. I will need more than that to record my Monday dose of shows. I realize that this only shows how dull my life is in some respects, but I can always find points of drama. I believe I made that clear with my post about the lack of common sense and common courtesy in your average driver, but I try to keep most of my quandaries about interpersonal relations to myself.

I decided to actually do something besides observe my television today, however. I realized that I was out of wax paper which is critical in the creation of Easter candy for the lucky people on my candy list. I haven't actually made a list yet, but I have a few people in mind ;) I don't mail candy for those who are now convinced to place an order. Most of my candy requires refrigeration for safety and health reasons. (That's why it is so yummy.)

Anyway, a grocery store happens to be located only a short (twenty minute) walk from my house, so I gave my legs their walking orders. I wish I could report that I had some earth shattering thoughts on my walk, but I didn't. I did observe that I am still healthy enough to still be breathing right after making the trek there and back. Hope still exists that I will not become a total couch potato this week. Next week, however, could be the week of the spud.

"When people know right from wrong and find themselves in the broad way to destruction, they have two ways to go. They may repent and cleanse themselves and obtain eventual peace and joy, or they may rationalize and excuse themselves and try the “escape” road. Those who follow the latter road sometimes so completely rationalize that they become calloused and lose the desire to repent, until the Spirit of God ceases to strive with them. Those who choose to meet the issue, and transform their lives, find it the harder road at first but the more desirable one in the end." ~Spencer W. Kimball

"In Jesus’ time the Palestinian shepherd was noted for his protection of his sheep. Unlike modern sheepherders, the shepherd always walked ahead of his flock. He led them. The shepherd knew each of his sheep and usually had a name for each. The sheep knew his voice and trusted him and would not follow a stranger. Thus, when called, the sheep would come to him . . .
The true shepherd was willing to give his life for the sheep. He would go amongst the sheep and fight for their welfare." ~Ezra Taft Benson

It can bring you up or knock you down
Reign with silence, explode with sound
Whip your heart into defeat
Or lift you up with a certain beat
Listen to it, let it roll
Bring you peace, enrage your soul
Twist you up in the tightest knots
Control your action, calm your thoughts
Can you feel it taking control
Burning softly, blistering coal
That burns a tongue that lies
And whispers of all your heart denies
Now listen close and tell me true
Will you let whispers control you

The problem with being the goddess of hearts is that one can usually read what was not written and feel emotions others don't know they have laced into their communications. This can make receiving emails from bitter or conniving individuals rather annoying. Very few things compare to getting unsolicited spam mail, but this runs a close second. On occasion, it can actually top the spam mail. Have you ever known that an email was sent to accuse you of something? You know that the person wants you to feel like you have done something wrong when you didn't. The real test of character is how you respond. Do you respond in kind? Do you tell them outright that they need to grow up? Do you ignore them?

Of course, such emails only remind me of the people who don't deign to email me back. Is it worth it to keep making the effort? It is if the person appreciates it enough to reply. It is worth it if the person you are trying to communicate with is grateful for your continued love. It isn't worth it if they are going to continue to make no effort and blame you for the souring of the relationship.

My faithful readers may recall that I sent out some mail a couple of months ago to remind some of my friends how awesome they are. They actually seemed to appreciate the reminder. It is those friends that we need to cultivate, isn't it? The ones who don't know how much we love them and are grateful for us. I believe there was a time when most friends were like that, but the world around us is always changing, and not always for the better. Maybe we should all try to be the friends who are worth having...

Raging inside of me, emotion I can't quite kill
Ebbs and flows, slowly saps my will
But I fight it until it submits
But it never ceases, never quits
Haunting that darkness between dreams
Making me wake, question what seems
So real that it tangles me, holds me
As my own conscious scolds me
For having too much to think or give
And as it burns in me, I live
Again a time that others would forget
And so I stumble, stand still and let
Time wash over me and quell this rage
Hoping to be free of a long dry page
But I know that I will be coming back
To this darkness, feeling the black
As it takes my hand and guides me near
Bringing the pain back into my fear
Until the sun comes back to fall on me
Bringing me forward, setting me free

Check. I have completed one of my goals for the day by submitting that verse for your observation. If it tries to get away, shoot it with a water gun. I also have done the first half of creating delicious Easter eggs for some of my newer and nearer friends. That means I get to make the whole house smell like chocolate in a little while. In other words, my day is looking pretty fantastic.

I also received a package today that I have been impatiently waiting for since before I placed an order. I finally purchased all three of the Knuffel Bunny books by Mo Willems. Expect to see a dramatic reading in the neat future. Of course, if you watch the video that I post, you will find yourself purchasing these books as well. I thought I should warn you, dear reader.

Did you notice how I assumed that I have readers? I saw an article today that says people are more likely to read if they know what day they will be rewarded for checking in on ones blog. In light of that, I would like to assure you that my goal is now to post on the photo blog on Mondays and Fridays and the fiction blog on Thursdays. This blog will get posts when I feel inspired to babble happily or grumpily at the people who want to know what is going on in my world.

In light of my current blog goals, I should be writing some fiction right now...

Inside these walls, we loved and played
Held back the tears, knelt, prayed
We hoped for dreams come true
And didn't miss what we never knew

Inside these walls, we dreamed and toiled
Washed away dirt that our hands soiled
Learned to love and loved to learn
And always knew we could return

Inside these walls, memories were made
All our hopes were once displayed
But now only the walls remain
And we won't be back here again

Inside these walls, one last look
They'll never know what they took
But I will be strong for just outside
Waits my real memory that will not hide?

A friend of mine asked me to help out another member of the ward last night. It was a simple task. She just needed some moral support as she finalized her move out of the home she had lived in her whole life. I suppose having someone who doesn't share those memories is better than having someone who has the same love for a simple structure built by the hands of men. I almost burst into tears myself as she was walking out the door with tears in her eyes. Does anyone have any idea what to say to someone in such a situation? All I could do was remind her that she has the memories and her daughters. I hope she receives greater comfort than I can offer today.

Sadly, my play date was cancelled. Why would this sadden me? I think Camilla and I may be on the same level. She likes contrasting colors and eating. So do I. She is only a few months old though, so she might grow too old to enjoy my random babbling. This gave me some time to poke around in the compost bin. I've been meaning to do that for a while. After all, we now have weeds living in there. That is never a good sign. They are currently being smothered by a pile of wet, fragrant leaves, so I feel rather accomplished.

I also managed to post an entry to the fiction journal. It isn't my best work, but that is my opinion. Feel free to share yours (only after reading it, of course).

If I could go back in time and relive moments with you
I'd make sure I supported you in all that you do
Maybe you'd see then what a great woman you are
And live up to your potential, more than you have so far
I'd tell you how much I treasure your heart
And remind you time and distance can't break apart
The sisterhood that we have though not of common blood
Sometimes I miss you and as these tears flood
I make wishes for you and hope you are well
As I wait for time, more of our story, to tell

Another day has been spent neglecting my duties. I managed to eat some pancakes at one of the more famous places for such treats today. My husband does a very good job of spoiling me. I think I would have been more content with more fruit and less pancake though. Can you believe that? I must be getting old because my body doesn't enjoy carbaliciousness as much as it used, too. I can't complain though because I still adore chocolate.

I also got the chance to recycle some plastic bottles. I continue to be disappointed by the fact that we are encouraged to conserve and recycle, but we aren't really encouraged to do so. Oh well, now that I have confirmed the location of the recycling center, I can continue to practice being a pseudo-hippie. Next thing you know, I'll be making my own granola...

I would love to live up to expectations
How can I when their reactions
Will always leave me feeling lost
How can I begin to assess the cost
Of all my loves and shattered dreams
How can I tell you why this seems
To be some extension of my heart
Breaking once or twice, torn apart
How can I find my way back from the abyss
Without true love's first chaste kiss
And then I realize that they love me best
Who will just sit and listen at my behest
Or give their life that I may live
Do you know who could, so much, give

The morning dawned with a little bit of sunlight and the promise of rain later in the day. My husband treated me to a breakfast that I didn't have to cook myself. He scrambled up some eggs and toasted some whole wheat bread. He even cut them into heart shapes. I may be optimistic, but I believe this was a declaration of love...

I also went to church, which should come as no surprise. I nominated myself to be the Easter bunny to a few lucky recipients. A few of them were entrusted with treats for their significant others. Despite assertions that the tastiness might not reach its intended destination, I trust that all the right people had their weekends brightened today.

As my karmic reward for my good deeds, I got to spend the afternoon with my husband, three awesome couples, and three adorable kids. We played some Mario Kart which still proves to be on my list of non-talents. We ate which is one of my talents. Then we played a board game that also appears to not be one of my talents. This would explain why I am such a good sportsman. How can you be unsportsmanlike when you are the person who tends to come in dead last? Despite my sad losses, I am always a winner because I have cookies:

TEN PURPOSES OF COOKIES

1. To promote happiness.
2. To give chocolate chips a home.
3. To give me something to blog about.
4. To say, "I love you."
5. To fill my mouth.
6. To make dinner complete.
7. To reward good deeds.
8. To compete with brownies.
9. To be tasty.
10. To create friendships.

Remind me why I entered the water
Remind me I am a king's daughter
Remind me how to smile, how to live
Remind me how it feels to give
Remind me to touch his hand
Remind me all that we have planned
Remind me to watch what I say
Remind me to kneel down to pray
Remind me of love, remind me of faith
Remind me that I am no lost waif
Remind me to dance, remind me to sing
Remind me what true faith can bring
Remind me again to pray to Him
Remind me this is no foolish whim

I am celebrating another unbirthday today. Sadly, I seem to be celebrating it alone. SEPTA has not yet released my husband from his steel and glass prison. He should have been stepping off the train and into my arms over an hour ago, but he is still somewhere in Pennsylvania, which for the record, is not where we live.

I have also been reminded today that I have little patience for certain people. Now, I openly admit that I feel sorry for people who struggle with interpersonal communication with their loved ones, but I am not the appropriate outlet for their consolation. I do not appreciate people taking out their frustration by berating me. Just because you close a four paragraph rant with assurances that I am doing a good job doesn't make you less rude. Particularly if the email was addressed to me but sent to other people and quoted something I had already declared a few times back to me as if I didn't get that very important point. It also doesn't help when you say something along the lines of, "study these instructions carefully...but we won't be doing it this way." As I have said before, my magical powers have limits. When my drunk friends couldn't accept that in college it was one thing, but sober adults really should be able to understand.

My second problem with individuals stems from the fact that they behave in ways that remind me of toxic friendships I have had in the past. I recognize the need to feel loved and needed. I also accept that people may want to be my friend without me noticing. However, trying to force your friendship on me by trying to revise the meaning of something I have said or did isn't going to earn you bonus points. If you tack that onto untactful, erroneous gossip that I have heard you spreading about me, your odds of winning me over by force are not good. Your odds of stepping on a landmine are probably better, actually.

Maybe the sunshine will melt away my grouchies tomorrow. I hope so for the sake of my brain and my readers.

Let's blame Andy
He ate all the candy
Let's blame Jill
She changed the will
Let's blame Jack
He never called back
Let's blame John
The flour is gone
It doesn't matter
When placing the blame
It would shatter
If it fell on our name

Quick Culture

You can learn it in a minute, take an hour if you must
But if it takes too long, your day will be a bust
We don't have time to bake, time to listen, time to care
We can't take an extra moment if it won't get us there
We're leaving late, we're driving fast
We know our youth just won't last
And we don't want to waste a second making memories
Because we're sure we'll get a wasting disease
If we aren't zipping through life without pause
So let's mock and ignore those who feel a greater cause
Could give greater purpose to our overbooked hours
And force others to care so little with assumed powers
That bring no contentment when our head hits the pillow
But we'll forget in a moment because we have to go...

As always, I struggle with the part of my inner nature that insists that things have to be a certain way. For instance, I love your average store bought cookie as much as the next person, but when I am having guests over, I prefer to spend that little extra time to make them from scratch. It makes me happy. It is fresher and, in my far from humble opinion, much tastier. Other people disagree with me. That is their right, but I don't think it is their right to force me into a situation where I have to opt for the store bought cookies. We are just so used to having what we want come out of the drive through window in five minutes or less or appear on our screens within a second of clicking that we don't want to take the time anymore. That makes me sad, and also reminds me how long it has been since I made puff pastry from scratch.

I guess I am just a little frustrated by how we waste our time. I say this because I can see how we waste our time. I have facebook open in another window and a story that I am working on that may or may not turn out to be tomorrow's entry for the fiction blog. Guess which one is getting more attention?

I could pat myself on the back and say that I only opened the window to touch base with some friends I haven't talked to in a while, but I can clearly see my long list of apps. I also tried to call a friend last night and apparently have the wrong number, so I fear I have been letting myself get distracted from the more important things in life. I love my friends, so why do I seem to lose touch with some of the best ones?

I did have the opportunity to spend some time with one of my new friends today though. She is somewhere between three and four years old and allowed me to read the Knuffle Bunny trilogy to her. Nothing can compete with that kind of friendship. I also got to exchange vegetable cooking ideas with another friend. I guess I am not as lost as I thought I was.