Year Two.

It’s been…
…one million-fifty-one-thousand-two-hundred minutes…

Happy Birthday.



Open Wounds, Healing Hearts…

I literally feel sick…physically sick…just thinking about what’s happened. It still feels like some kind of sick joke…only it’s not. It’s real. What happened…it happened. And there’s no changing that. I keep remembering that 14-year-old girl I posted about last month, the one that was hit by a car and killed right in front of her family and friends. That was horrible but this…it’s unthinkable. Unimaginable. Surreal. Heartbreaking, more than anything.

That other girl’s death, while tragic, didn’t affect me personally. I didn’t know her. I felt sorry for her–for her family and friends. As horrible as it probably sounds, it was like her death was yesterday’s news. Another story took the place of hers in the news and Facebook statuses went back to normal. For everyone else…life moved on. In my post, I remember writing about how devastated I’d be if something like that were to happen to someone I knew…but I honestly never expected it to happen, especially only a month later. It’s just one of those things you know, when you tell yourself that it’ll never happen to you. It’s like when there’s a school shooting on the news and you tell yourself that something like that would never happen in your school or in your town. But as much as we might like to believe those things won’t happen…they do. They happen everywhere–small town or not. People die in car crashes every day, all around the world–just like what happened yesterday.

The girl who died…I knew her. We went to school together. She was a couple of grades behind me, but our paths had crossed numerous times–whether it was a matter of having mutual friends or hanging out at the same parties or whatnot. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. She was so down-to-earth, and always smiling. She was well-liked. Everyone loved her. She was loving mother to a beautiful little 3-year-old boy. He was her whole world. She just recently got engaged. She was so happy, by all accounts.

She had everything. And in the blink of an eye–in one wrong place at the wrong time–one missed stop sign–she lost it all. She was driving home from visiting her sister in Pennsylvania when it happened. For whatever reason, she went through the stop sign–driving right into the path of an oncoming vehicle. Her little boy was in the backseat. According to the news, there were 3 victims in the other vehicle–a mother and two teenage girls. Someone said that they were headed to a softball game and that one of the girls was in the process of changing into a uniform–so most likely not wearing a seatbelt–when the accident occurred. I don’t even want to try to imagine what happened next. I just know it was horrible. All three of the victims in the other vehicle survived and were airlifted to a major hospital, having sustained serious injuries.

Nicole, the girl I knew–her little boy was also airlifted to a hospital with serious injuries. What is probably the most horrific aspect of the tragic accident is that Nicole is said to have been trapped for several hours before being extracted from the vehicle by emergency crews on the scene. She never made it to the hospital. She died at the scene.When I think about it, all I can picture are these horrible images of her being trapped in there, hurt and probably terrified. Death, in general, is always tragic. But to have to suffer for hours–that’s beyond worse. That’s just plain cruel. I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy. It’s horrible.

With something as tragic as this happening–you’d think people would show a little kindness or empathy. And many have. But there are also some that clearly have no respect whatsoever. On Facebook discussions related to the accident, people are actually fighting with one another unnecessarily–which is not only disrespectful to Nicole’s memory, but it’s also just plain wrong. Public discussions and freedom of speech aside, some people need to just shut up. People are jumping to conclusions and automatically assuming that she must have been speeding, or that she might have been texting and not paying attention–which therefore caused the accident. Some really sick individuals are even blaming her and calling her an idiot for running that stop sign. One even said that she was probably high on “bath salts” at the time. I don’t get how people can be so cruelly cold and unfeeling. Whatever happened–it was an accident. It doesn’t matter how it was caused at this point. What matters is that it happened and that because of that one little twist of fate, a 22-year-old young woman lost her life. Her little boy, if he makes it, lost his mother. Her family lost someone they loved; a daughter, a sister. Those who knew her lost a good friend. And the world lost a wonderful person. Other families of the other victims are suffering as well. Even if the victims survive, and godwilling they will, they’ll never be the same. They’ll never forget what happened yesterday for the rest of their lives. And neither will the rest of us. She didn’t ask for this. And neither did anyone else. It was an accident, pure and simple.

I don’t understand why things like this happen. She didn’t deserve for this to happen to her. She didn’t deserve to lose her life so young. So many people are saying that she is in a better place, that she’s in heaven watching over everyone. That for this to have happened, God must have had a reason for taking her life. I wish I could believe that. But I just don’t know. I can’t accept that there’s a reason for a tragedy like this. I just can’t. It isn’t fair. And if there is a God and he is as loving as so many people believe–then why did he let this happen? Why did he let her die before she really had a chance to live? Why did he take her from her friends and her family? Why did he leave a little boy without his mother? Maybe I’m not supposed to question it or understand, for that matter–maybe I’m just supposed to believe and have faith. But I can’t do that. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.

I guess the only reassurance any of us have is knowing that she is no longer suffering, that she is resting in peace–and that she’ll be in our hearts and in our memories forever. Her memory will be alive forever in that little boy of hers she loved so much. Nothing can ever change that. Ever. If nothing else, I have to believe that as hard as it is right now and as much as it hurts…it will all get better in time. We will heal, but we will never forget. I have to believe that.

Rest in peace, Nicole, wherever you may be.
**NMD** 5/19/12


Why’d She Have To Die??…

I’m sitting here and I can’t stop crying. I’m trying so hard to try and understand why and how such horrible things like this can happen. It just doesn’t seem real. It’s so unfair. She was only 22 years old. She had a beautiful little boy that god forbid, may not even make it. She was getting married. She was a good person. She didn’t deserve this fate or to have to suffer like she did. It just isn’t right. She died too young.

Rest in peace, Nicole. You’ll be forever missed, but never forgotten…

RIP **05.19.2012**
RIP **05.19.2012**

“…it ain’t fair you died too young, like a story that had just begun…but death tore the pages all away…”

It’s Like That…

These lyrics come to mind…

TRACK: “I Won’t Give Up”
ARTIST: Jason Mraz

When I look into your eyes,
It’s like watching the night sky.
Or a beautiful sunrise.
There’s so much they hold,
And just like them old stars,
I see that you’ve come so far–
To be right where you are.
How old is your soul?

I won’t give up on us.
Even if the skies get rough.
I’m giving you all my love.
I’m still looking up.

And when you’re needing your space
To do some navigating.
I’ll be here patiently waiting,
To see what you find.

‘Cause even the stars they burn.
Some even fall to the earth.
We’ve got a lot to learn.
God knows we’re worth it.
No, I won’t give up.

I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily.
I’m here to stay and make the difference that I can make.
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake.
And in the end, you’re still my friend.
At least we did intend for us to work–
We didn’t break, we didn’t burn.
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in.
I had to learn…what I’ve got, and what I’m not.
And who I am.

I won’t give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I’m giving you all my love
I’m still looking up…

Love, love, Loooooovveee it. <3<3<3


Life, Winding Down…

Well, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. First with the semester coming to a close–what with a ridiculous amount of last minute work and final research papers and photography and web design portfolios…ahh yeah. It’s insane. I seriously need to get a reign on this habit of procrastination that I have, that’s for sure. By that I’m referring to my final English paper that I literally wrote an hour before it had to be turned in (and yes, I’m that good lol), the 15 or so Technical Writing assignments that I had all semester to complete and didn’t bother to do until the last week…not to mention my major final research paper for my Mass Media class that was due on the 10th but didn’t get written and turned in until the wee morning hours on the 12th. Umm, yeah…definitely have to do something about my procrastinating. It’s wierd, but it’s almost like I thrive on the challenge of having such a small amount of time to finish something…it’s insane. But in my defense, I’ve had a busy semester with all my other coursework and actual work and so on…so yeah. But at least it’s all over with. Officially. Final grades just posted last night and admittedly, I was a little hesitant when I logged on. To my total shock, I got a perfect 4.0—how I did that is beyond me, but I did it. Guess all that hard work paid off. Now I get to relax a little and enjoy the break. I have a feeling it’s going to go by fast and that the fall semester will be here before I even know it. I’m looking forward to it though. I have a full courseload again, but the classes are good ones…like journalism, publishing, and more computer graphics/photography type stuff. I’m excited.

Speaking of photography, I just did my first wedding gig this past weekend. It was my sister’s wedding, so it wasn’t too awkward or anything. I wasn’t too keen on the idea when she asked me to do it months ago, but I got railroaded into it pretty much. It’s a little ironic actually that I got asked to do the photography, especially when my family is constantly telling me that I need to stop taking so many pictures all the time. It’s true, I don’t go anywhere without my camera. So anyhow, I agreed and everything went smoothly. The pictures came out far better than I was expecting, which was good. I’ve already had a few people on the groom’s side messaging me on Facebook asking if I do photography professionally and if I had a business card and whatnot. Um, yikes….I don’t know about that–especially since I’m starting this photography gig next week for the summer. I think I’ll be sick of it by that point. But who knows.

Anyhow, a busy day ahead tomorrow, so time for some shut-eye.


Inspiration Is…

My inspiration comes from this little girl…

Maybe miracles DO happen… 17 months in remission so far…





Jeepers Creepers…REAL WORLD…

Okay, so I’m a bit curious…what is it with creepy old guys that will NOT leave me alone?! Eeek. I’m totally serious. I don’t get it. So yeah, I have a creepy stalker. He’s this guy I met months ago while I was bartending and he hasn’t left me alone since. wierd. I don’t even know the guy’s name. I mean, I’m sure he told me what it was half a dozen times or so, but I never paid much attention to it. I only know him as the “creepy coconut guy” because he would always come in with his own carton of coconut water to use with his mixed drinks so yeah, that’s where the coconut bit comes from. Anyhow, he was a total creep. And still is, I should say. I hated bartending on the days that he’d come in. He would always flirt and make suggestive and totally sexual comments each time I’d go to give him another drink. He just made me feel really uncomfortable every time.

Granted, that was part of the job–I know that. Getting hit on, drunk guys making passes and trying to cop a feel every time you walk by–it’s all part of it. You get used to it after awhile, I think. So why is coconut guy different? Well, for starters, he’s old. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s got to be in his mid to late 40’s. At the very least. Maybe even older, I don’t know. Either way, it’s creepy. I mean, he’s practically old enough to be my father! That’s weird, don’t you think? Well, I definitely do. I’m 24 years old. Why would he even think that someone my age would want to go out with a guy his age? It’s delusional. I mean, I know people say that age is just a number and whatnot, but come on…seriously? Umm, no. Not going to happen. Which is exactly what I would have loved to tell him every time he asked me out to dinner and to hang out–but of course, I couldn’t say that. After all, he was a customer. And I was the bartender…which meant that I had to play along even though just being in the same room with him made me uneasy and uncomfortable. I think the only thing I didn’t mind about him was that he gave great tips. That’s probably really rude, but it’s true. I think he thought that the more money he waved around, the better his chances that I’d give in and go out with him. Yeah, umm…no. It eventually got to the point where I wouldn’t even make his drinks–I’d get one of the other girls to take care of him.

It’s pathetic, really. I mean, you’d think the guy would have gotten the point by now. But apparently not. He still calls me constantly. I never pick up, not even once, so he’ll leave really creepy messages–saying how he’d really like to see me and hang out. He’s even left a couple of messages where he’ll literally just stay on the line until the message cuts out and all you can hear is the sound of his breathing—yeah, realllllllyy CREEPY! The part that pisses me off is that I didn’t even give him my number. He asked for it a couple of times, but I never would give it to him. So he got it himself by asking one of the other girls for my number one day when I wasn’t working. I was pissed when I found out. I mean, it would’ve been nice if they’d asked me first, you know? BEFORE they went and gave some perverted drunk my number. And I’d change my number, but I refuse to. It’s silly, but I’m on a record with the current number I have. It’s the longest I’ve ever kept a cell phone number. No joke. I couldn’t tell you the number of different numbers I’ve had over the years. It’s ridiculous. So I won’t do it. Which means, I still have to deal with his calls and messages that I don’t even bother to listen to anymore. He thinks he’s clever though because he’ll call from a couple different numbers sometimes. But since I don’t pick up calls from numbers that I don’t recognize–his little trick always fails. Sucks to be him, I guess.

It’s amusing, I’ll admit. To some degree. I mean, the guy is just so pathetic. I kind of feel sorry for him. But it’s not amusing anymore. It’s annoying. Really, really annoying. I don’t know how to get him to take a hint. I mean, I don’t return his calls. Ever. And I’ve sent him texts letting him know that I’m in a relationship with someone else and he STILL KEEPS CALLING! It’s unreal. I don’t understand…what the hell is wrong with men these days? And by that I mean the older guys who try to get with women a hell of a lot younger than themselves? Dont they find it even a little weird that the women they get with are young enough to be their daughters…or for some, their granddaughters? Apparently not, I guess. If you ask me, it’s just sick and twisted.

My friends have this theory. A theory they came up with while we were out at a bar one night. They say that the reason I have issues with creepy old guys–or old guys in general–is because I talk to them. That’s their theory. They think that by me being nice–or just polite–by having a conversation with someone–that I’m somehow encouraging them to keep talking or give them the impression that I’m interested. Which, of course–is not my intention whatsoever. I’m just trying to be nice, that’s all. But apparently, that just backfires on me. Soooo….no more talking to old guys.


Untitled Assault…


In the bright rays of the moon,
Rests a single, solitary blade of grass.
Pieces of broken glass sparkle in the moonlight.
Drops of blood cooling on the hot grass.
She looks into the mirror.
The holes dark.
The cracks deep.
The pain too unbearable to realize.
In that shattered mirror–
she remembers a time of happiness.
She remembers the moment she first learned to swim,
the crystal blue water rippling lightly
from a calm, summer breeze.
She remembers her first horse ride.
Grass trampled swiftly into the ground–
from the galloping hooves of the powerful animal.
She remembers them all too well.
The smell of blood, the taste of fear; her tears.
The smile on her innocent face…
And then he came.
She learned to swim again.
She had to.
This time, the water was opaque.
Red, thick.
The way his hands felt.
She couldn’t breathe,
the wisps of life fluttering through her body;
Her body that had learned so well,
had heard the grass whimper.
Had seen it die.
Was nothing more than one solitary blade.
The hooves smothered her, confined her.
As his hands flickered in the torrent of the night sky.
His menacing laughs the only conversation.
And slowly, the blade of grass turned.
Green became brown, the ebb of life withering.
It had no fight, no will…no life.
Just another object, just another conquest.
He was and she was, too.
Eyes of fright looked into a distraught soul.
Looking hard, deep…finding nothing.
She was empty and hollow.
A hazel green eye looking into a mirror,
gazing into an elongated crack, twisted and turned–
her innocence no longer uniform.
And from that single, solitary blade of grass…
From the brown, tattered, and dead plant.
Came a single, solitary, spherical tear–
that splattered and shattered as it hit the ground.

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