Sergeant Butterman, the little hand says it's time to rock and roll!

I had the BEST weekend of my life. and here's the one reason for it.

It was a crisp Saturday evening when Adam took me to my first ever hockey game. The St. Louis Blues were playing the Chicago Blackhawks (this is where I break to remind you that we are cheering for St. Louis because that's where we were).
The pregame was great because the group that came to sit behind us was packed with goofy almost drunk college guys. They were witty and not overly offensive. Just my kind of guys.
Sadly, within the first two minutes the Blackhawks snuck in a far too easy goal. Soon the Blues were trailing 2-0. By the end second period, though, they had scored their first goal. In the middle of the third period, they had gotten the score up to 3-2 only trailing by one goal... however, in a hockey game, one goal means everything.
I was really getting into the game a lot more aggressively than I had anticipated. By the last 3 minutes of the third period I was so busy concentrating and getting anxious I had forgotten how much my nose felt like it had frozen and felt like it could shatter.
The end of the period drew nearer as fans were screaming louder than I'd ever heard at a live sporting event. Granted, I haven't been to one since high school.
Then AMAZINGLY in the last 18 SECONDS the Blues scored the goal that tied up the game and threw it into overtime.
The crowd was screaming, the almost drunk college guys were jumping all over the place (include on my back)...
... and then time stopped...
In an instant I had gone from screaming new fan to girl who's dreams were coming true. He took me in his arms, dipped me back as far as the stands would allow and kissed me for what seemed like an eternity (in a good way). I can't describe how much my head and my heart were working together to feel the excitement of that moment but to also remember each millisecond of the most amazing kiss I had ever received.

I think my head and my heart made a pretty good team. Never again will I watch a sports movie and see the couple kiss after the game winning score and wish that were me.



and by the way, the blues won in a shootout after a no scoring overtime. it was the greatest thing i've seen live since my high school basketball team won state in the last two seconds.

i'm emotionally slutty

i give it up on the first date.

my personality that is.

i hope we have milk. i really want some cereal.

i've been at school for two weeks.  that's two weeks less time i have to wonder what's going to happen in the future.  that's really the only way i look at time anymore.  how much longer do i have to wonder?

and there's no stopping it.  i think about it day and night.  of course, i think about necessary things too. like starving kids and God and my salvation.  but taking up a lot of my time, is wondering...    it's really hard to look at your life and really have no idea where it's going.  this is the most solid "relationship" i've ever been in and to be honest, i have NO CLUE what's going on!

i have no intention of ending it.  he doesn't either.  i have every intention of being with him, no matter where it is, how long it takes or ... well those are the only two things i can think of to be defiant toward in this situation.  so basically, my future is like this big white room with tons and tons of words on papers just lying in the floor.  there's no tape... there are no nails or tacks.  it's just papers, with words on them.  and all i know is, someday someone is going to break through that door and hand me a huge roll of tape and i can start putting my story on the wall.  i can say "dating" or "blissfully ever after" or "we're pregnant"

until then... i hope the wind doesn't blow away all the good words...

meanwhile, in an apartment across town

i'm sitting in what has been dubbed "our room" for the weekend at least. his mess is everywhere. i love it. it's what i've been missing about him for over a year now. and i couldn't be more thrilled that i came.

well, i could, if i didn't have to leave in 15 hours...

i'm a crazy girl who gets herself into stinky messes.

i couldn't help but wonder

for a great number of people living in today's world, happiness is a result of what we have. in most cases, what we buy. a great new dress can make us feel powerful. heels make us feel taller. makeup, appealing. food, instantly gratified. and entertainment, sans stress from the outside world.

the more i thought about how the things we buy affect the outlook we have on life (and ourselves), i realized how my spending has become more frugal due to america's recent and very drastic price increases. we're conserving gas, water, food, utilities, and yes, most depressing of all, our shopping allowance.

and considering how this has begun to affect each of us individually, i couldn't help but wonder, are we conserving our happiness? and if so, what for?

we're trying to be a mix of conservationist and minimalist society, but how far can that go? can we honestly accept the fact that things cost more, and therefore, our happiness? can we really stop living in a material world and stop being material girls?

i never consider myself to be such a girl. however, recently i've accepted the tiny bit of elitism that i possess. i love shopping and fashion and i'm not afraid to say it. i'd die before dating someone who frequented the cowboy hat trend, or worse, crocs. i'm not saying that i'm high fashion material by any means. in saying i love fashion, i'm saying i enjoy looking at what someone has put together and deciding if they had a clue what they were doing, or if they even looked in the mirror before they left their house.

so in saying all of this, can we accept that, along with our gas, the price of happiness has increased? and once we do (or don't), will we give in and pay the price?

and just like that

i've noticed something lately that i find interesting about the human experience while being entertained. for moments, even only a few, after a movie or television show (even a sports event), we change. for instance, dance movies always make me feel incredibly light on my feet, despite my complete lack of salsa or ballet skills. spy movies tend to convince me that i'm swift and sneaky. any movie depicting the model lifestyle makes me strut like i'm wearing dior.

why is it that i can trick myself into believing i'm something i'm not after seeing someone who is? i think that somewhere, no matter how deeply it's buried, there is a dancer, spy or model in all of us. hell, there may even be a gymnast or football player if we catch them on ESPN at the right time.

so is it really a bad thing to morph into something we wish we could be, even if it's just for 5 minutes? i guess it really all depends on how you feel at the end of the day. after the credits have rolled. after the quick stretch and yawn that inevitably comes at the end of every theater visit. and yes, after the goodnight kiss. as long as we feel like we are who we are, BUT realize that we really can be whoever we want, i think we'll all be alright with getting lost in translation somewhere between the pirouette and the final quarter.

i'm not done

"he's just an ordinary man trying to do a great man's work, while the great men are all busy making bombs."

talk about profound. i understand that this might make me sound incredibly liberal and anti-war. truth is, i have no idea where i stand on the issue. and, for now, i'm fine with having NO opinion. but i could help but to think it was something beautiful to be said. not just about scientists and doctors and... well other "geniuses" who are dedicating their lives to at least trying to make the world a little better of a place to live.

i don't really even know how i'm going to expound on his point. but maybe i'll figure something out later.