Eating: Um... life?
Drinking:Dasani water
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
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Creepycreepy all time - is relative
My step-grandma is Philipino, and really cool. She was telling my mom and me about when she was a little girl, and the stories her mom told her. Apparently next to there house/farm/thingy, There was a convent for nuns and the home for priests. Sometimes, late at night, they would hear a baby crying. My great-grandma's mom would ask my great-grandma, "Why do we hear babies, there ar no babies over there." Then, when the war started, and the convent got bombed, they found babie's bones around the building... And bones of pregnant nuns...
Quote for the Entry: "No man treats a motor car as foolishly as he treats another human being. When the car will not go, he does not attribute its annoying behavior to sin, he does not say, "You are a wicked motorcar, and I shall not give you any more petrol until you go." He attempts to find out what is wrong and set it right. " ~Bertrand Russell
Too true...
all time - is relative