Spammers are no fun...

Last night in the middle of choir rehearsal I received an email from an unknown, random citizen of the interwebz. And I simply couldn't pass up the golden opportunity that had laid itself willingly at my feet...

keelbykiely 7:56 pm

please let me know if this is the real e mail. i'm trying to find the man with that amazing lips. if this isn't him, i'm really sorry!

Hope 9:46 pm

My darling! You have found me! We shall be married in the morning!

I cannot convey the strife that has riddled my forlorn heart these nights away from you. Unaware of whether I would know thy sweet correspondence again. If I could take these sweet, amazing lips of mine and gently caress yours...my dearest, it is all that had occupied my thoughts. I long for you and your warmth. I am overcome with trembling, thinking of you. 

It is fate. Destiny, even! That has led us to each other. My lucious lips have drawn you even as your deep eyes have captured my soul.

My heart's desire, if you would have me, I would run the ends of the earth for you. I would take the stars of the heavens and lay them at your precious feet. I would love with a burning passion unfound in this dark world. 

You are my world. My day, my night, my every breath.

Relieve this torture of my spirit and say you will face the unending battle that is this wretched life with me. Only me. And we will conquer the world. The galaxy. The universe!

My Lady, I would be your Lord.

Say you will be true, and be quick. I cannot dwell in this world without you beside me. 

With haste! I love thee.

keelbykiely 6:35 am

exactly how do you feel when you look at these naughty pictures? 

[weblink-that-i'm-not-including-cuz-no-thanks]

Hope 8:09 am

Now, now, my betrothed. This is most grievous. I cannot fathom what would possess you to disrespect yourself so. 

My disappointment knows no bounds.

I am afraid, my darling, that this may be the end of our road together.

The sorrow that swells within my spacious heart, I cannot adequately tell you. But I will always be here, in the wings of your life; silent and waiting. These amazing lips of mine will beg the universe for the moment when you will return to me, true and free from the wiles of this business you've been wrangled into.

Be safe, my one and only, and make good choices.

I will always love you.

It's been a couple hours now, I don't think they're getting back to me.

I was hoping for a more detailed correspondence but alas, twas not meant to be. And before anybody asks, no I did not go to whatever website this person sent me. I ain't no fool. 

They probably didn't even read the beautiful love note I wrote them. 

Rude. 

I'm a sucker for Disney, sorry not sorry.

Rapunzel!! So cute. Oh, Lordy. These disney princess fashion posts will be the end of me. Further solidifying that she is my favorite princess. Excuse me while I ransack the internet to procure that exact same outfit. And thank you artist for giving her the short brown hair. /fistpump

Full article here.

Mourn with Those That Mourn

I just received word that a dear and special soul has left this world via suicide.
I am sick at heart.
Sick that he didn't feel needed. Sick that I didn't do more. Sick that his smile is gone.
I can't quite comprehend it. He couldn't possibly be gone. He has too much life left. Too much opportunity. Too much love in his heart. I could never be gloomy with him around. I looked up to him, literally and figuratively, as a shining example of a warm and welcoming heart. I looked forward to seeing him. I enjoyed his presence.
It is terrible that he felt so alone.
No one should ever be that alone.

I feel the need to encourage you to open up to people. Let people know your struggle. Let them help. Life is too hard to do alone. Find your support.
I may not know you very well, but I am an excellent listener. Like, for realz guys. And I have a firm belief that you are worth living. I can promise you no matter what is going wrong, no matter how bad it is, this escape is not the answer.
There are people who want to help you. There are people with open arms. Ask for the hugs you need. Cry on the shoulders of those who love you. Allow others to serve you.
You are good.
You are important.
You are needed.
You are loved.
Don't you dare give up before you've sought help.
Please share your pain. Share it with your parents. Share it with your friends. Share it with me! hopey.opey@gmail.com

And Coty,
I am sorry. I'm sorry that you couldn't see how loved you are. I hope wherever you are you can feel the prayers being said and the tears being shed for you right now. I will cherish my memories of you. New York with you was a treasure. Choir would not have been the same. You made me feel welcome and I appreciated your sincere friendship.
I have been affected by you in the greatest possible way. You've made me better.
I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you.
I'm grateful I got the blessed chance to know you and partake in your sweet selflessness. I hope you have found the peace and clarity you were searching for.
You are deeply missed.

Geek Out, Freak Out

There is officially two weeks left until our Disneyland trip.

I have my tickets.

The hotel is booked.

I bought my costume so basically...

I

AM

READY

(also...^ um, my uterus just exploded)

More Spoiled Complaining

Today's the daaaay!
The sun is shining, I cleared a gigantic space, and we are getting a piano!

I have to take checks to the bank (because payday).
I have to buy groceries to make a side for the office potluck tomorrow.
I have to go to choir tonight.

ALL WONDERFUL THINGS. But taking so much time away from the fact that after a year and a half I will finally be able to play on a really good piano again.
Cuz here's the thing; piano is my therapy.
Like, legit.
I kind of need it.
But the problem with that is my therapy is kinda between me and the piano. Like, you could say I know plenty of people who also own pianos, and there are billions of church buildings with pianos, go play on those! Sneak into the practice rooms at the colleges and play those if you need it so badly! (Disclaimer: don't mess with the practice room system. MUSIC MAJORS WILL CUT YOU.)
But if we're taking this therapy thing seriously, that's basically like saying, "Well here, I have a therapist talk to them," or, "Just have your therapy session at the mall, with all the humans, no big deal."
Um.
Big deal.
So as much as playing on any ole piano is great, it's not what really let's me de-stress.
Eleanor Sivan is credited with saying, "I tell you a secret about Chopin, piano is his best friend. More. He tells piano his secrets."
GAIZ. That's me. I'm no Chopin, but I definitely have that relationship with the piano. My piano. This is the piano that I learned and grew on. It's the piano that got me through the roughest part (so far) of my life. It has my worst times, and my best times woven deep in that wood. I know it's sounds, I am accustomed to it's feel.
It is my oldest, dearest, most cherished friend.
I enjoy naming inanimate objects/possessions for the sake of being silly. Our truck is named Gunter, Mark's car is Marvin, and my blue jetta is Benji. But I've never been able to pick a name for the piano or even assign a "gender" because seriously, that piano is basically just an extension of my own soul.
And it's being moved into my house today. 

How I feel about being stuck at work today. Let me out!!

This day is FOREVER.

Venticular Wackycardia

That's my Grey's Anatomy knowledge talking...

(also.../sob)

I forgot why I came here.
Like.
What was I going to talk about?

OH! Yes, more whining about things that are wonderful and marvelous.
I'M DOCUMENTING MY LIFE. Leave me alone.
I feel like I need to take a week off for EACH thing I need to do for the house.
I need to figure out this clothing situation. I didn't do a good job of keeping up with laundry before we moved so there's really no telling what is clean and what isn't and where it should go.
But! Let's celebrate my moment of awesome last night where it was past ten o'clock and I was dog tired but I stayed up to sweep, vacuum and mop and wipe the baseboards of our laundry room so we could put in the machines. Operation Laundry is a go! Maybe.
I need to unpack our like, eight ginormous kitchen boxes so, I don't know, maybe we can start eating like civilized humans. I tried to make a sandwich for lunch this morning and, go figure, a plastic knife was not the easiest cheese slicing implement. I need to figure out how I want to organize the kitchen, considering it's basically the size of our bedroom in the apartment. ALL OF THE CUPBOARDS. Old Mother Hubbard hit the jackpot, peeps.
I have probably around five projects lined up in need of a good DIY session but are they gonna happen? NO. Because carpet. And laying. And laying on carpet.
But really. I haven't even done the research to figure out how exactly I want to scrub down our scummy couch so that it looks less dingy and meth labby, or scrap off the gunk from the bookshelves that my sisters ruined back in our childhood but I've held on to them because BOOKS.
WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY BOOKS?
Oh yeah, cuz books are da bomb dot com, yo.

I want to make a cushion top for the hope chest so that it's functional as a seating bench (and so no glasses get placed on top of it, further ruining the surface) but HAH. Sure, okay Hope. Keep dreaming.
I mean, we were fully moved in Sunday night. We moved a couple things around that evening but it was all complete. There were no longer any of our belongings at the apartment. And so far....
I've cleared a spot for the piano.
That's basically it.
And I'm so close to going bananas, the piano is all packed up at my parents house so I logically should probably use the company whose packing is wrapped around said piano but I can't get a number for them because...well, certain people are busy and haven't communicated with me.

And on the flipside of all of this...
I am so completely, and totally, and marvelously happy with the way our life is going right now. There are many tough spots and things that aren't easy. Complications that aren't beneficial. But I appreciate that the trials give me the opportunity to be grateful. Grateful for what IS going well, and for the blessings we DO get to enjoy.
So while work is like...

And I do this with my phone when talking to ANYONE...

(what can you expect when you dump your smartphone

in a 5 gallon bucket of paint?)

And my face realizing that sound keeping us awake at night is rodents in our walls....

Me forgetting that other thing that was super important...

When Mark reminds me to do things he was supposed to do...

ALL OF THAT, can't over power the fact that we're homeowners...

And I get to decide where to put all the art and mirrors....

And I was this close to buying the bulk dog food when I so intelligently decided I could handle going to Winco on a time constraint yesterday....

Every time I walk in the door having driven straight home after work...

So really, most of the time, on the inside I'm mostly like...

#HATERSGON'HATE

I can't be trusted to make my own decisions

My level of crazy has officially shot through the roof of River Tam level crazy.
Only I'm not graceful nor could I beat anyone up or defeat an army of Reavers.
So maybe just Amanda Bynes Meltdown crazy.

I am seriously debating one of two scenarios, both dealing directly with the current state of hair affairs. And they just so happen to basically be complete opposites.

I miss short hair and want to have another go at it. I like (really like) how it looked and I also wish to begin swimming often to get back into the healthy weight region but who wants to lug around 5 pounds of wet hair all day? Not Hope. And if you're about to say, "Swim caps!" to that I shall respond with, "Unless you want to come with me to the gym and put the cap on my head, stuffing my nearly two feet of thick hair up into it, then it ain't happening."
Tried. Hated. Swore off.
So we're looking at this...

(I'm the dope in pink)

(Also, good times)

(not my face.)

OR, I am so so so so so tempted to go full on River Song (I'm a fangirl for Rivers apparently)...

I told you.
Crazy.
You're all probably feeling a little like this (nun?) lady...

But you know how it is...

Obviously though I care enough to ask for opinions before jumping in headfirst without telling anybody.
So with that, what thinkest thou, O interwebz??
Oh, and another thing; I've mentioned before via social media my desire to go curly and had an outpouring of concerned souls demanding that I promise I wouldn't do perms because they ruin hair and you can do it just as easily with "product" from the grocery store. What is this magical product and how do I use it? And for your reference, I would never do a full on legitimate perm but more of a semi-perm. Something that fades with time and washing.
So that's my dilemma.
HALP.

Oops, too far?

Who's Emotional? Certainly not me...

That moment when merely reading the summary of Disney's "Paperman" short brings tears to your eyes because it's just so simply beautiful.

"In mid-century New York City, [the man’s] destiny takes an unexpected turn after a chance meeting with a beautiful woman on his morning commute. Convinced the girl of his dreams is gone forever, he gets a second chance when he spots her in a skyscraper window across the avenue from his office. With only his heart, imagination and a stack of papers to get her attention, his efforts are no match for what the fates have in store for him."

(I'd like to add that if I were ever aforementioned "beautiful woman" in a video, that would be the thumbnail the video stops on :3)

I Can Haz a Dream...

As per the norm, I read something on the internetz...

And I made a Facebook status about it...

And that wasn't enough so now I'm here to talk about it some more.

But mostly to talk about what I wanna do to fix it.
Except I'm so much for serious. Like, really. srsbsns gaiz.

Okay, enough with the gifs, I know. Sorry.
Remember how awhile ago I made this post about how much my life [read: wants] would be made easier with money?
A few of my bullet points are about adopting dogs and getting educated in veterenary skillz and owning a huge amount of property (and something about a Beast's Castle library, I dunno).
Well, turns out my brain can't stop thinking about that idea.
What if we managed to somehow buy a plot of land that was exceedingly spacious and somewhere not so blazingly, disgustingly hot as Arizona? What if we could construct a sizable "kennel barn" of sorts and outfit it to be pretty snug and cozy? What if we did all that and could go around to shelters and take in their old dogs and the ones born with a bad rap?
It would be like a haven/old-folks home for dogs.
I hate that the old fellers hafta die cramped in those kennels because nobody wants to adopt 'em and deal with the heartbreak of losing a dog so soon. They already grace us with such short lifespans, bringing one into the family when they're far out of their prime is just emotional torture at it's best.
I totally understand that!
We're seriously looking for a dog now and don't want one much older than a year because we need to be able to train it and want it around for as long as possible.
But it breaks my heart in the meantime for the others.
What if they could be taken to a place where they can run around as they please, ruff-n-tuff with some buddies until their hips sag and their energy lags?
Wouldn't that "quality of life" be better than holding out for the hope that somebody will hug them other than the nurse putting them down?
I don't even know what an appropriate or manageable number would be for that sort of thing and sadly we'd still have to screen out potential hazardous dogs, I mean I'm not crazy. But even then I'd want to have a separate housing facility for "trauma" cases. The ones that need that extra TLC to not be so defensive and scared.
It would literally be the opposite of the underground dog fighting ring.
It's so shiny and beautiful and great in my head.
But I don't even know what it would actually take to make it a reality.
Not to mention I couldn't do this until we were done having kids. Once our last was settled in school, probably second or third grade, then I could see really going somewhere with it. And this would be more my "side-business" than Mark's, cuz lezbihonest. It would turn into a business.
But non-profit, obvsly. Nobody's gonna pay me to house unwanted strays.
And do I hafta have a permit for that?
And how much better would it really be?
The idea is to basically have an enclosed ranch for dogs, where they can go about the yardage as they please, pooping and sniffing to their hearts desires....the barn would be for shelter and sleeping cubbies but I wouldn't round them up at night or anything. If they're misbehaving I guess we'd keep doors on the "cubby" to shut them in.
But what kind of fence would be adequate enough? Cuz dogs like to dig. And some are good jumpers and climbers. I don't want it to look like a freaking holocaust camp or anything.
But I guess if it's all the older dogs they won't have much energy for escaping...

Obviously I haven't done adequate research on this yet, but I've really only been contemplating it for a couple weeks. Seriously contemplating it. My husband and I talked about it a long time ago as one of those bucket list things you would love seeing yourself doing before you die but not really putting much thought into it.
I'm thinking a lot of thoughts about it.

But be ye prepared! I'm pretty sure there will be more on this after I become a research wizard and figure out my life or at least just become more comfortable with the chaos therein.

Seriously. ^^My life in a nutshell.

Also, I think I just admitted to you guys that I want to be an old, crazy dog lady. The lesser known hermit cousin of the crazy cat lady.
Except for I'll totally allow cats, too!

So I'm the crazy dogcat lady? Just crazy lady will do. Either this could be the best idea ever or I'll just end up getting locked away for having a dog/cat farm. But not really a farm because I'M NOT STUPID and will make sure every "tenant" is spayed/neutered respectively.
I'm crazy and okay with it.