Blogging Laryngitis

nicole bullock thinking
You know that feeling when you have laryngitis? Straining to make noises, a sore/achy throat, and feeling the effects of vocal fatigue? You know that you should probably rest your voice, even though you have a lot to say? That’s how I’ve felt lately with my blogging. I have said so many things on my blog over so many years, and I continue to think of so many things to write about. Even though I technically have a voice, I feel like a bit of vocal rest is best right now.

Micro-posts on social media have been just what the doctor ordered lately. I’m doing so much in my personal, professional, and private life, so blogging has been on the back burner. When I do write, my posts end up being saved unfinished in my draft folder. I have spent over 12 hours writing about a topic really close to my heart this month, but when it came down to hitting publish…I couldn’t do it. I did not feel ready to open myself up to the possible criticism and necessary explanations that it would begin. You have to have a thick skin to write about anything potentially controversial, and my skin is eerily thin right now.

The past 6 months since my move to Detroit have been a thrilling, fast-paced, up-down-and-sideways, and sometimes horrifying experience. With my professional career being Internet-based, the appeal of blogging has waned over the last year.  Knowing that business decisions can be influenced by the things that I publish, I have grown extremely cautious.

It’s weird that I feel like this right now, because I living in Detroit gives me SO much to talk about. I am falling in love with my new city, and I want to “say nice things about Detroit.” I love the history, architecture, and culture that have made the Motor City so interesting and appealing to me. I’ve been toying about starting another offshoot blog dedicated to all things Detroit (because I have an addiction to registering domains, and already have purchased a few for this purpose). But again, social media feels like the right place to share it.

Bear with me as I figure out my place in the blogosphere. I’m going to sip my icy drink and listen for a while.

Not Myself

nicole bullock melancholySuppose I said
I am on my best behavior
And there are times
I lose my worried mind

Would you want me when I’m not myself?
Wait it out while I am someone else?

Suppose I said
Colors change for no good reason
And words will go
From poetry to prose 

And I, in time, will come around
I always do for you 

– “Not Myself” by John Mayer

The past year has been full of awesome highs and awful lows. I’ve had 6 months of physical struggle that’s been unlike any period of my life. I didn’t know when things would get better…but I’m finally feeling like I’m back on my way up. Here’s the recap.

For the first 5 months of 2013, I felt like I was on top of the world. I had lost over 120 pounds and had regained a zest for life that had been dormant for a long time. My professional life was on fire and I was getting opportunities to be in the media, to speak at events, and recognition for my career that I’d worked for most of my adult life to achieve. I was feeling fulfilled, lively, creative, and happy. But I began pushing myself far too hard.

smcslc board ladiesWhen people describe me, they often say that I am “dependable” because I show up at so many events. I am guilty of  FOMO (fear of missing out) to my detriment. Working as a social media professional, I feel the responsibility to be everywhere possible to connect, network, gain knowledge, and have fun. Between work, serving on the Social Media Club of Salt Lake City board, church responsibilities, family time, and keeping an active lifestyle, many days I was on the go for 18 hours straight.

In April, Taylor was transferred to Detroit. After 4 years of commuting to SLC, we decided it was time to relocate our family to Detroit. On top of all my work and social obligations, I threw myself into a very dedicated job hunt. For the first month, I was getting a lot of responses, interviews, and positive feedback. I had a feeling I’d be accepting an offer soon, and made tentative plans to move to Detroit during the summer. Now it’s October and I’ve had no offers. And we still live in Utah.

Within a few weeks of my job hunt, with a pretty enthusiastic response, I suddenly felt like the life had been sucked out of me. I felt fatigue and anxiety beyond any other time in my life. I started cutting things out of my life trying to desperately hang on to what was important – my job, my family, and my health. But no matter what I did, I never seemed to be able to tackle my health. I went from being completely diligent to hardly functional. It was hard to make it through an 8 hour work day, and I often went straight to bed when I went home. I didn’t feel creative and I felt like a failure. But I kept pushing along. And I got better at saying “no.”

Most of the summer, I felt depleted. I gained a few pounds back, and it was frustrating. I tried to jumpstart my metabolism by more sessions at the gym, and would feel dizzy within 10 minutes. I saw several doctors, had lots of lab work done, and no sense could really be made out of my fatigue. I had a feeling that I was suffering from mono, but my “mono-spot” lab test came back negative.

I was struggling, but not in a way that a typical “depressed summer” goes for me. I know the point when I need to see a therapist, and I never got to that point. I looked to alternative means to handle my stress and anxiety. The last week of August, I went to a yoga class with some of my neighbors. It was my first time doing yoga, and I ended the class feeling strange. By the next morning, a gland in my neck swelled up so big that it was difficult to swallow. The sore throat persisted for days, and I eventually went to urgent care to find out what was wrong. I was diagnosed with a peritonsillar abscess, was given IV antibiotics and steroids, and was told to return to my doctor if it hadn’t improved in a few days.

And it didn’t improve. I spent the better part of the month of September suffering, seeing my primary care and ENT physicians, missing work, sleeping, mixing up medications, and trying to get the pain and discomfort under control. As the abscesses were under control, I developed the worse sinus infection of my life. As the sinus infection improved, I developed viral tonsillitis and tested positive for infectious mononucleosis. The tests indicated that I’d had an active round of Epstein-Barr virus for 5 months, and it was causing all of the throat issues. I finally had an answer for why I was so freaking exhausted – I DO have mono. And because the infections were viral, antibiotics would not help, only a tonsillectomy.

At this point, I was laid off from my job. As if 5 months of illness wasn’t enough, one more major stressor was added to the list.

I had two conferences on my calendar, and decided that I didn’t want to miss them and lose out on the money invested. I went to Atlanta for Type-A Parent conference, where I was nursing a recurrence of another peritonsillar abscess. I went to urgent care in Atlanta and was told by the doctor that my “throat looks like a horror movie,” and I needed my tonsils out ASAP. But immediately after Type-A, I had a paid speaking gig at the ObesityHelp National Convention in Anaheim.

tonsillectomy preopI scheduled the tonsillectomy for the first date my surgeon had available, and tried to not push myself too hard on my travels. I returned from California on Tuesday, and went under the knife for the adenotonsillectomy on Thursday. Today I’m on post-op day 2, and it’s been pretty brutal. I knew that the recovery from an adult tonsillectomy is much more difficult than on a younger person, but it had to happen. I’ve been surviving on ice packs, sipping icy drinks, cool mist humidifiers, sleep, Lortab, and limited soft foods.

The plus side of unemployment is that I have endless time to recover. I don’t know how soon I’ll feel like I could survive at day at the office, but it’s nice to not have to hurry back. I’ve thrown out another batch of resumes for open positions in Detroit, and am hoping to catch the eye of a potential employer soon. Once I’m feeling ready, it will be time to fly out to Detroit, look at neighborhoods, house hunt, go to networking events, and prepare for the next move for our family. After 7 months of job hunting from Salt Lake City, it’s hard to know if I’ll get a job without moving there. We’re going to make a leap, we may move before I have a job, and are running on faith.

It’s going to be difficult, especially after not feeling like myself for so long. But I think I feel ready to give the next chapter of life a try. I am confident that now that my tonsils are out, the viral infections will subside and I’ll be back to myself again. The optimistic side of me things it will only take a week or two to bounce back. I hope I’m right.

Not a Mommy Blogger

Rosie Bullock and Nicole BullockSince I’ve been living in Utah again, I’ve had lots of opportunities to meet fellow bloggers. Combined with the blogging conferences I’ve attended over the last 2 years, I’ve made some amazing contacts. Some are photography bloggers, some are adoption advocates, some do professional blogging on behalf of businesses. Last week I attended a meetup of local Utah bloggers. As I introduced myself to people I was meeting for the first time, I was asked “What do you blog about?” and “What kind of blogger are you?” It’s often difficult for me to answer the second question, because I don’t consider myself a mommy blogger.

I’m a mom. I blog. But I hate the term “mommyblogger.”

The tagline of my blog used to read “The Culture Loving Pilot Wife Mom Blog.” I was in a very specialized niche of women, the pilot wife/girlfriend bloggers. A lot of people are interested in the unique experiences and struggles that a family in aviation experience. But after a few years of having my blog being focused on being a wife and a mom, I was forgetting to write for myself.

Now don’t get me wrong. I fiercely love my husband and daughter. They are the two most important people in my life. I devote an enormous amount of energy toward working and sacrificing for their happiness. However, I have realized through much trial and error that I don’t survive well without focusing on myself.

I have been blogging for 9 years now. I’ve blogged on a variety of platforms – Blogger, LiveJournal, Myspace, and now WordPress. My blog has evolved several times in each platform.

A few years ago, Mashable posted an article titled “Top 10 Misconceptions About Mommy Bloggers.” The list includes cliches, such as “Mommy bloggers just write to get free stuff,” “Mommy bloggers only write about baby-related topics,” and “Every mom that blogs loves being referred to as a Mommy Blogger.” For a long time, I didn’t mind when people called me a mommyblogger. And when I started adding MOM to my blog tagline, my traffic increased. But after reading and writing blogs for almost a decade, I’ve realized a key reason that I am not a traditional mommyblogger.

I embrace my imperfection.

There is a difference between chaos and imperfection. Everyone knows that being a mom can be chaotic. But many of the closest friends I’ve made through blogging are the ones that have been able to sympathize and commiserate on weight lossdepression and health problems. And those topics are the hardest for me to write about because I reveal my imperfections and insecurities. And I’ve also found a lot of strength.

When I began blogging in 2002, I didn’t know a lot of people who blogged. I would add everyone’s blog to my reading list, comment faithfully, and loyally read every post. By keeping up with all these blogs, I had the same problem as when I wrote more traditional “mommy blog” posts. I got sucked into everyone else’s life, and didn’t give myself enough time to focus on me. Six months ago, I made the difficult decision to give up Google Reader. As hard as it was to stop following the lives of so many friends I’ve come to know over the years, it was also very cathartic. I found myself comparing myself less to others. I spent my precious free time reading about topics that I wanted to know more about, rather than following the minute details of every friend’s child’s dance recital or potty-training success.

Do I feel like a jerk that I gave up every detail of my friends lives? Of course I do. But do I regret it? Not at all.

And I’m not embarrassed to say it…because this blog is about me. I’m a “self-centered” blogger. And it’s totally okay.

Is It Worth It?

Is it worth it to ask for help?

Is it worth it to try and try and fail every time?

Is it worth pouring your heart out, if you aren’t strong enough to handle rejection or silence? Or if your honest pleas for emotional support are met with nonchalance…because eventually you’ll be able to snap out of it? Or is it better to bottle it all up inside until you are certain you are going to explode from pure emotion? Is there a magic release valve so what I feel inside doesn’t make me feel like I’m going to implode on myself?

Is it worth taking a breath, when every breath is labored?

Is it worth getting out of bed, when every action you perform causes physical pain?

Is it worth it to work on my physical body, when I feel like I will never be beautiful or healthy enough? Is it worth it to try drug after drug to heal myself, when it leaves me feeling worse than before?

Is it worth trying to give an explanation, when you feel like everyone already has a firm judgment established about your situation?

Is it worth it when your sheer emotional pain is overshadowed by the guilt you feel for allowing your loved ones to strap on a seatbelt to face your emotional rollercoaster of hell, over and over until you’re sure you’re going to vomit from eMOTIONal sickness?

Is it worth it trying to go to sleep at night, when more of the hours you spend in bed are spent worrying instead of actually sleeping?

Is it worth it to go to therapy, learn and master the steps and tools which will lead to your recovery, only to be plagued with overwhelming feelings of despair and sadness and worthlessness?

Is it worth it to pray when it feels like your bedroom ceiling is plated with stainless steel and your desperate prayers are ignored by a God that is too busy to listen?

Have you ever wondered who will come to your funeral? Is it worth entertaining that fact when you feel like nobody cares? Does the thought of your death feel like it would leave the world in a less chaotic state?


I don’t know all these answers. But I know that I think about them a lot. I know the good people I have in life – the family, the friends, the ever increasing circle of influence I seem to acquire. But why do I always feel alone and misunderstood? How can I have a knowledge of my Heavenly Father’s plan, yet still feel like I’m going to be an exception to the rule? How do I get the help I need, when I feel like I’ve done everything in my power and knowledge to make myself better?

Why is depression so difficult to overcome? Is it possible to truly be healed of gaping hole I feel in my heart? Why am I my own worst enemy, setting myself up for failure with obstacle after obstacle on a course that I feel I’ll never be able to achieve? Why does the horrific abuse I’ve endured in my life pale in comparison to the mental anguish I can’t seem to stop inflicting on myself?

My depression tends to be cyclical. I’m really struggling right now, but I’ll bounce back and feel fine in a few days. If I’m lucky, I’ll feel fine in the morning.

But for tonight, permit me the chance to have a literary pity party, and allow the thoughts swirling around my head to be expressed and left to rest for the night. That’s what my blog is for.

The Dark Side

For so long, I’ve been putting off this post.

It’s tough to talk about personal, difficult things in a public forum like a blog.  I’ve had so many people check up on me…wondering why I’m not blogging, why I’m not showing up to social events, or why I just haven’t acted like myself. I thought I’d explain.

Summertime is so tough for me. I’m one of the crazies that deals with summertime seasonal depression much more than dark months of winter. When the weather cools down and evening begins earlier, I feel refreshed and invigorated for the winter. Sometimes I even feel that winter “freezes” me into an enthusiastic, hyper-productive, nearly manic state of mind. Spring is actually my favorite season…watching new growth emerge through the matted frozen soil. But as the days become longer, and temps linger above 80 degrees on a regular basis, I feel myself shrivel and dehydrate. The the sultry, hot days of summer broil the life out of me. I become a sullen, lethargic, and dried-up version of Nicole…despite all the Prozac, therapy, and gigantic cups of Coke Zero I consume.

Summer 2010 felt different than any other summer. But I think it was a result of recovering from life in Summer 2009.

Summer 2009 was almost like a coma to me. In a weeks time, I went from working in a high-stress full-time corporate environment in a major metro area, to packing up my condo and driving cross country, and ending up two time zones west in a borrowed house in a rural town. I began yet another phase of living apart from my husband (who was already away half of the month). I felt incapable of taking care of myself, abandoned in a place I didn’t care for, in circumstances I had little control over. Many weeks were spent alone in my bedroom. I was practically catatonic. It took a few months to get myself to a point where I could function and have a personality again. By October, I felt energetic, was full of ideas, creativity, and aspirations.

After months of unsuccessful job searching, I tried to decided to make a move education-wise. Because of our already excessive student loan debt, taking out more money for school wasn’t possible. I didn’t feel right about working on my bachelor degree at this time, and instead looked into professional training programs. With my background and experience in healthcare, I knew I should find something to make me more relevant in that field. I reconnected with some old coworkers who encouraged me to become a certified professional coder. I found a good online training program, and last October I hit the books.

The next 6 weeks went well…I was motivated in many aspects of my life. I started exercising vigorously, studying diligently, and was feeling optimistic. But Mid-December brought in a nasty back injury and many months of painful recuperation. I was in terrible pain, had very limited mobility, and struggled again to make it day-to-day.

During this time, my marriage suffered greatly. We were both feeling so stressed, upset, and impatient with each other. I hated that I couldn’t have my partner here when I needed him, and he hated that I was living my life as someone different that he’d known for the previous 5 years. Our finances suffered from my lack of full-time income; we were making sizable monthly payments for my tuition, straining our already anorexic bank account. Our communication suffered, and we both had to make a lot of adjustments to recover the things we’d slowly lost in our relationship.

One of the most difficult aspects with my depression is my unrealistic responses to emotions. Things that make me sad suddenly feel tragic, and little joys become euphoric. When I have a small setback, I become unrealistically anxious and hopeless. When I feel success, I become competitive, driven, and egotistical. I am easily tempted by things that would have never been a temptation before. In order to achieve balance during this time, I force myself away from spontaneity, and toward introspection. I spend time alone, and have to force myself to get out of the house. I feel social anxiety when I’m around people that are used to the “real Nicole,” and turn down invitations to have fun (despite my desperation to connect with other people). I went to several conferences this summer (Bloggy Boot Camp, Casual Blogger, EVO, and BlogHer), and was so worked up that many hours of those conferences were drowned in my tears.

This summer was my first time dealing with suicidal feelings, and I’m grateful for the love and support of many people who helped me out of that awful abyss. I focused on my successes and allowed other people to help me.  My husband begged me to be selfish and spend time on the things that would bring me happiness and success. I started to regain my mobility from my injuries and started losing weight (down about 25 lbs). I enjoyed being a “stage parent” for Rosie’s first play. I dove headfirst into school, spending 5-7 hours most days on studies. And most of importantly, I fought for my marriage. I changed behaviors that caused contention, I opened up about issues that caused anger and tension. I had to be patient. I had to forgive and ask for forgiveness. I worked on being the spouse I knew that Taylor wanted me to be. And now, things are finally feeling awesome between us again.

This week marks the Fall Equinox, which is the official end of summer. Days are getting shorter and temperatures are cooling. The lengthening nights don’t seem quite as dark as the lonely nights of the summer. I feel hopeful.

Despair and Euphoria














Recently I’ve had a difficult time figuring out who I am. I feel like my life is a constant state of change, and so many elements are beyond my control. When I am in a depressive episode (nearly a year now), I have a hard time focusing on the positive traits I possess. I know I have many attributes that are admirable…it just seems like I can’t admire them in myself. Despite my greatest efforts, I find myself drowning in despair nearly every day.

I have felt so unattractive for so long. While focusing on improving my mental health and self image this year, my eternal quest for weight loss has fallen by the wayside. Other than a brief few months in high school while on Phen-Fen, I’ve always been overweight or obese. I now weigh the most I ever have, well surpassing the “Not in a million years!” weight I set for myself. I actually have no idea of my exact weight at the moment…my digital scale now reads the “ERR” error message. I have very few clothing items in which I feel confident, and little money to buy something new. It takes me so long to find ANYTHING that fits correctly, and I never seem to have the money to purchase something I finally find that works.

I have only found a few things that have made me feel happy…supportive words and good conversation, affection, the beauty of the outdoors, and time with my loved ones.  But when I wallow in the depths for so much time, I find myself seeking things that not only make me happy…I want things to make me feel euphoric. The things that make me feel euphoric…food, sex, travel and concerts. Travel and concerts find themselves into my budget more than most people, but I can’t tell you how happy I feel after I’ve gotten home. Sex…well, when you’re married to a man who is gone 2/3 of the month…you get the idea. So I’ve heavily relied on food to feel euphoric. And in the end, I weigh 50 pounds more than I did last April.

A few days ago, I took the above cell phone picture of myself for Taylor. I sent it off to him via text, and forgot about it till last night. I kept looking and looking at it…not believing it was me. After so many months of being on the edge of hating myself, it was an incredible ego boost to see a picture of me where I looked attractive and beautiful. It was a glimpse of the innate Nicole that I feel so rarely that her image was almost an enigma. After cropping out the scandalous lingerie I was wearing in the photo, I’m sharing this Nicole with you.

I am Nicole. I am talented. I am passionate. I am strong. I am a survivor. I am ambitious. I am tolerant. I am devoted. I am unique. I am sexy. I am conscientious. I am spiritual. I am considerate. I am wise. I am empathetic. I am intelligent. I am a loyal. I am silly. I am intuitive. I am enthusiastic. I am accomplished. I am compassionate. I am generous. I am witty. I am creative. I am flexible. I am skilled. I am assertive. I am hard-working. I am grateful. I am eclectic. I am artistic. I am diligent. I am resourceful. I am resilient.

But most of all….I am honest. Thank you for caring enough to share my struggles and offer support.

10 Years Ago

Much of my blog is based around my dear husband Taylor. Sometimes I mention him ad nauseum. He’s honestly the best thing to ever happen to me. But did you know I had a life before Taylor? Did you know that in my first semester at Ricks College in Rexburg, Idaho, I met a boy, fell in love, and became Mrs. Perry? It’s true, and it happened on March 26, 1999 – 10 years ago today.

This is me in December 1998. My first semester of college. I was a humanities major at Ricks College. I attended on a merit scholarship, involved myself in drama and French club, was involved with Lambda Delta Sigma sorority, attended dances often, went to the devotionals, played in the Rickstix drum line and loved college life. I was the alto section leader in the Ricks College Choir.

I recall my time at Ricks College with great fondness…for unforgettable memories and dear friends.

How did we meet? At a choir retreat at the Teton Lodge, I started flirting with a boy named Steve. He had caught my eye a time or two in choir (always late to class, but dressed sharp) We cheated to be on the same team for activities, and on the van ride home from the lodge he held my hand. We went to a dance on campus that night…and afterwards a snow wrestling match turned into our first kiss. This picture is from the night of the Cabaret dance where we said our first “I love you’s.”

Three weeks after we met, he came home to Salt Lake with me to meet my family. Christmas Eve, he proposed to me. We excitedly planned our wedding in the Salt Lake Temple for March 26, 1999.
We were married until 2003, when we divorced for a variety of reasons. Out of respect to him, I will not go in to those reasons for our separation. We had some good times, we had some great time, but we also had many horrible times.

Some may call my speedy courtship and marriage a mistake. Some may call it a “starter marriage.” My time with him is part of who I am today. I became an adult much more quickly than I had intended, but I have loved the roles as a wife and mother that I have assumed. As I looked through the boxes in my home in Georgia, I could only find these few pictures from this period in my life. My old wedding pictures are stored deep away in California, and it really feels like a chapter of my life I no longer need to dwell on . I will always be grateful to him for bringing Rosie into the world.

6 Months in Michigan

I can hardly believe that our family has been living in Michigan for 6 months now! Here are a few of my favorite things about living here:

-Living in the same state as my husband!
-Fireflies!!! (Rosie and I counted over 70 of them last night)
-Diet Vernor’s Ginger Ale
-Partying with the Pearces
-Leo’s Coney Island
-Mike, Erin and Will
-The spectacular rainstorms and thunderstorms
-Hillary, Steven, and Elodie
-Jerusalem Garden in Ann Arbor
-Plymouth Township Park
-Pizza Papalis in Greektown
-The Henry Ford Museum
-Easy access to the rest of the country via Detroit Metro Airport on free flights

I don’t know how long we’ll live in Michigan. Taylor’s under the impression that we’ll figure out a way to move back to California in 6 months (as long as his airline survives the merger and he can get a bid for the ATL base and commute from ONT). If we do move back, I wonder if we’d be any better off financially than we are here (and we’re currently NOT making it financially). I really miss my friends and family on the other side of the country and have felt a lot of loneliness here. We have made a few good friends, and I crave the time we spend with them. I am grateful for the good times we’ve had in Michigan (and the places we’ve visited while living here).

I just don’t really know what to say…

With news like this …it’s hard to be optimistic about the future of my husband’s career. I have no idea if my husband will be out of a job by the time the NWA/Delta merger happens. But with all the regionals that have gone under in the last two months, it doesn’t look good for Pinnacle.

Otherwise, life’s been kinda tough lately. Work stress is high, financial stress is high, and my health is hit-and-miss. Rosie’s done with first grade on Friday, I’ll be done with my semester officially within the next few days, and Taylor’s been in SLC helping my parents move downtown this week. I’m trying to take joy in the little things. The new Coldplay album is fabulous, my air conditioner works, and I ate a really, really good orange yesterday. Michigan is beautiful and green, and I try to enjoy it as much as I can handle the humidity. We’ve had some breathtaking thunderstorms this week, and we’ve luckily not had to deal with flooding and power outages as other neighboring areas have. Lately I’ve been thinking about some quotes from Gordon B Hinckley:

“Life is just like an old time rail journey … delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

“My plea is that we stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight. I am suggesting that as we go through life we ‘accentuate the positive.’ I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we still our voices of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment and endorse virtue and effort.”

“It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don’t worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us,…if we put our trust in Him, if we pray to Him, if we live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers.”

Rundown of Friday-day

I woke up feeling a bit icky, stomach flu or something. My body protested and protested to get up. But I finally did, had to get Rosie ready to go to Idaho for the weekend. Steve slept in, and wanted to meet me at work, so I met him there and said goodbye to Rosie. I already miss her. Can’t wait to see her tomorrow night, however tomorrow is Father’s Day (and since Steve is her Father….it’s definitely a day she gets to be with him)

I was feeling out of it at work. One of those days that you try to focus and feel like you don’t get anything accomplished. (course, being dizzy, feverish, and taking trips to worship the porcelain god don’t help) I listened to more of Jeremy’s CDs…Erasure, Dido, Seal, DM….stuff that I miss terribly since my car was violated. I finally called it quits and headed home about lunchtime, and crashed for a nap till about 5ish. (sugarplum fairy, sugarplum fairy…oh wait that was John Lennon…anyways happy b-day Paul McCartney)

Thought about Dan a lot. He’s been working on “BLACKBIRD” for me on his guitar, and now the link is on his LJ for the recording. Can’t wait to hear it.Time for some lyrics…haven’t done that in a few days…….(Forgive me EM, for the LJ spam. I need a demonstration on the correct way to post lyrics)

There’ll be times when my crimes
Will seem almost unforgivable
I give in to sin
Because you have to make this life livable
But when you think I’ve had enough
From your sea of love
I’ll take more than another riverful
And I’ll make it all worthwhile
I’ll make your heart smile

Strangelove, strange highs and strange lows
Strangelove, that’s how my love goes
Strangelove, will you give it to me
Will you take the pain
I will give to you, again and again
And will you return it

I’m not trying to say I’ll have it all my way
I’m always willing to learn
When you’ve got something to teach
And I’ll make it all worthwhile
I’ll make your heart smile (Strangelove, DM)