"I'll try to be more romantic
I want to believe in everything you believe.
I was less than amazing,
Do not know what all the troubles are for.
Fall asleep in your branches:
You're the only thing I ever want anymore"
-Conversation 16, The National

High Violet reminds me so much of the old way I loved the National, and the way they use the choir in this song kills me. The choir always kills me.
"The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid" by The Decemberists
and "Downfall" by Matchbox 20. When I think of choirs of angels, I try to think more of these songs and spending eternity in that part of the song where the choir comes in and gives you chills.
I spent a lot of nights, weeping, on my way home from the comfortable arms of loved ones. Arms as in, sitting next to them and listening to the soft tone of their voices for hours, hearing what they're dreaming about. What I mean is weeping to Matt Berninger's voice, which I could never get tired of. To also screaming "Mr. November" from Alligator. Spent a lot of dark hours driving I-80 across the country under very few street lamps thinking about who I'll finally meet when I turn 29.

Tonight there was a man walking down my street, and I realized, tonight it is my turn not to be the pitied one, not to be the tragic one left to his thoughts and walking down a road. Some nights are not so hard, but the choir still haunts you anyway because you are hoping about heaven. You love all the bad men who have scarred you, because skin heals pretty decently and is a learning process; your biography. You love all the people who took you for granted. You even crack open a beer and toast to them, because we've all got a tragic flaw.

These Days

Well, I spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday basically in bed from allergies killing me. Besides that I went to work every time that I was supposed to, and church. And I moved to the couch one time to watch the LOST finale, which, hello. Super sad. But it's not like I didn't cry a lot through Alias.

I made some amazing waffles last night. They're called Liege waffles.

And man are they delicious. Celisse got me the pearl sugar to make them. They are a gut bomb, but worth it.

So in conclusion, every thing is pretty alright. The show will go on.

Thank you to the following sponsors:
NBC, Benedryl, NPR, Butter, Jo Malone Cologne, Netflix, Prevacid, Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers, and last but not least: Vitamin Water (Connect; cherry lime w/ caffeine) you are so good, it is my fault I overdosed.

"Oh my gosh!"
"What?"
"Oh...well you didn't watch American Idol last year."
"Oh yeah. That one girl's dead, huh?"
"WHAT?!"
"You know, Japanese...what...nevermind."
-Izzy, on a usual basis

There are people that are involved in my daily life, that I don't even ever really talk about. I am there for them everyday and I want to start profiling them so that I remember them when I leave Starbucks and never come back.

Handsome and Sweetie
He comes in and pays for her drink every morning before she wakes up. He works in construction, and is fun to joke around with. He drinks coffee even though he is LDS, which is something I like to see in a person.

Grumpy Old Guy
I don't know his name because he always pays very quickly, with cash, and always tips us almost as much as his drink costs. He is very pessimistic and grumpy which I really appreciate when it's early morning. He likes us, he likes talking to us, but always acts like he doesn't. I love him. I want him to be a third grandpa. I would sit around and smoke with him, even though he probably doesn't do that, and neither do I.

Chocolate Shavings Lady
Likes sprinkles on top of her mocha, even though they don't make a difference in the taste, and claims that she needs the coffee and chocolate because of medicine that she is on. Usually comes through 3 times during my shift, for a total of close to 1200 calories, probably, but never seems to put on weight. I think some people live off of Starbucks nutritionally.

Brian and Indy
Literally my favorite. Brian comes in with his dog Indy through the drive thru (also probably 3 times a day) and we probably are technically his third home. He's unmarried and has no kids, and we are always as happy to see him as he is to see us. He is always happy, and Indy always tries to jump through the window.

Okay. Now I need to go to bed.

You got tired, working on too many lives at once.
Working long days and longer nights on bad dreams.
You got to hold yourself together all the hours.
You got to admit that God this is it.
That you got to take a knee. Take a few hard hits where you aren't expecting it.
Shoulder, gut, hip, temple.
Put off the Tylenol til the last minute you can stand it.
Stop choking on hard everything.
Smoke.
Glamour.
Sir Jack Daniel.

Lay down the guns and know, God you said this would be hard.
And God, I will fight a good fight.

I will fight the good fight.