"The beauty of the world about us is only

according to what we ourselves bring to it."

Shaker saying

I take it back

I'd rather the anger than the back stabbing and lies.

working hard to get my fill

I'm not too ashamed to admit that sometimes, when I have a bad day, I turn to Journey videos on YouTube.

I've been pulled in so many directions lately that I was beginning to feel like I was being torn in two (or more). At work, I'm wearing the hats of boss lady, writer and media star, which is surprisingly harmonious except when big boss' pregnancy hormones are raging. I'm trying to find balance between friends and the Boy, and failing miserably. I'm trying to refuel but can't, as any extra time I have is used to satisfy other commitments. I've never really done the me time thing, as any spare time I have is given to friends who make me feel guilty for spending so much time with the Boy, or with the Boy, who has finally exploded in a "but I'm your boyfriend and I'd like to see you sometimes" rage.

The little sister is a shining light in all of this, which isn't helping anyone really. When I was feeling all frustrated to tears, she simply told me to do what makes me happy and screw the rest. Her words helped me figure it out, but then when what typically made me happy became just another obligation to fulfill, she became my default. While everyone else was having a virtual tug-of-war with my emotions, she became my solitude merely because she's just happy when I'm happy.

Boobs

We discuss them all the time. Talk about how they're too big or too small. Envy the girls with bigger ones, or the girls who don't have to wear a bra with cute tops. We have friends who fall asleep after a rough night on our cushy chest pillows. We drunkenly stumble towards our friends with hands outreached, we do (free) tequila shots from the cleavage, wear shirts that show them off to reel in the boys. Hook. Line. And Sinker. They nourish children, provide a soft resting place for weary heads, and prevent some of us from being very good at running. Our breasts are something that we've become attached to (pardon the pun). We get used to training bras, and boys drooling over them. We say prayers or embrace silly exercise routines to make them larger (or to get them to stop growing). We've become accustomed to our bodies and how to work them. The thought of not having them, or not having all of them, is just reality-shaking.

I'm sending my thoughts and prayers to Aunt J.

I walk by this boarded-up window every morning on my way to work. There seems to have been a movement in the city to cover up these construction-site boards with interesting art. I love it. The thought that people put in to make something so blah more exciting lights up my day even more than the sunny days in the weather forecast.

Almost even more exciting is the fact that I remembered to use my slacks (holy old woman word!) as a grey card to meter the light in this shot. Accurate colours, what.

My mind is officially blown

Elle:
What are you up to tonight?

CC:
I have to go to Leduc to get eyelashes curled.

Elle:
To get your EYELASHES CURLED?
You can't do that by yourself?
What a princess.
Hrmph.

CC:
haha
i'm so not like that

Elle:
mmmhmm
You have a personal eyelash curler!
I do too, but it fits in my hand and I always forget to use it.

CC:
but i like to get them tinted and permed in the summer (and when on vacation) so i don't have to worry about brining/wearing makeup

Elle:
PERMED
EYELASH PERM!
OMG.

CC:
my friend does it for me
oh i should not have told you

I may or may not need a vacation. Monday has been painful, part of which is likely due to the fact that my legs kind of want to fall off. Apparently dancing two laps around the track at Relay for Life takes as much out of you as walking all night. That, combined with a complete lack of sleep, have me thrown off my game today. But hey, we raised $5,890 for cancer research, support for patients and their caregivers, and other programs. Not too bad.