ABC's of Me

[A]ttention is something I enjoy,

[B]ourne Movies are my all-time fave.

There's no such thing as too much [C]heese;

[D]ollar and cents, I'm trying to save.

I'm [E]agerly searching for Mr. Right to forever be my lover.

Bare [F]eet gross me out; So keep 'em Cute, Clean or Covered!

Hawaii is where I went to colle[G]e,

But I'm a [H]oosier, 'cause that's where I was born.

My [I]pod's full of tons of tunes,

[J]uxtaposing love and scorn.

Amish is my daddy's bac[K]ground,

[L]DS is my religion.

[M]assages are like Crack-Cocaine,

and I love snuggli[N]g (just a smidgen).

H[O]bbies & adventures keep me busy.

I've [P]layed the piano since I was four

Which helps to [Q]uiet many thoughts

'cause insomnia's a bo[R]e!

[S]ushi rocks! Need I say more? ("Connect" and "Las Vegas" rolls, to-die for!)

"[T]hat's what she said" is my favorite line, (though it gets me into trouble).

[U]tah is where I live now (What some call the "Mormon bubble").

Con[V]ersating is my obsession,

[W]riting is my passion,

To e[X]cel is my drive, being myself in true fashion.

One stop short of Insanit[Y]ville, some onlookers just might decide.

But with [Z]eal, I continue, for I've nothing more to hide.

Not Mine To Make (an attempt at poetry)

I have in my mind two different plays;
the one that ends in fortune and the one that ends in plight.

I feel I must consider the road where each one lays
where will they lead me and how long until there's light?

As circumstances have it, currently to ponder
the obvious is not so, the ending not so clear.

So often I sit, allowing my mind to wander,
the meanings I transpose; but the author is not here.

What if the outcome is one of naught?
Into tiny little pieces my heart will surely break.

To be still as I have been taught;
Demeanor, grace and poise is the coat that I must take.

My mind I am preparing, my heart the worst I fear
for that one ending moment of crushing, utter despair

And yet the other path, the one that's not so clear:
A small, yet hopeful glimpse; do I even dare?

For that is the song that makes my heart sing,
that gives breath to life, and purpose for being.

That is the song I so want to hear ring
but afraid to reveal the path I'm foreseeing.

For me, I know it's right; for me there is no choice.
And yet I cannot share my words, lest fear and doubt creep in

The answer must come from another voice,
from another path I have not since been.

From that author; he gets to write
He gets to create this ending; what's in store.

Only this I know with all my might,
I could never love an author more.

Meeting Normal: A Pathetic Attempt at Free Verse

I walk into a crowded store and start to feel anxious.
Am I normal?
If I know I'm gonna see him or talk to him, I feel happy and nervous and sick and giddy inside.
Am I normal?
I can't sleep. I toss. I turn. I flip the pillow over to get to the cold side.
Am I normal?
I feel like I'm breaking or broken or falling or spinning or something.
Am I normal?
I feel like crying because I'm tired, or I stubbed my toe, or simply because the sky is blue.
Am I normal?
The things I love I don't do and the things I do I don't love.
Am I normal?
I pace. I fidget. I can't sit still. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing.
Am I normal?
I think about the word 'normal' and say it over and over until it sounds funny.
Am I normal?
I read. I blog. I cry. I blog. I laugh. I blog. I can't sleep. I blog.
Am I normal?
I meet someone crazier, poorer, messier, lonelier, and quirkier than me and think,
I. Am. Normal.