Luv.

I love love. 

I really do. 

I'm cautious with it. 

I'm cautious with the words I use about love. 

I catch myself giving people just a taste. 

Just enough to wonder. 

I'm not making sense, am I.
 (It's a statement, not a question) 

I think I mean this- 

Love is vulnerable. 

For real.

 Like-real, authentic, put a pin in it, can feel where it has taken up residency in you, vulnerable . 

There is a lot at stake with love.....
Is there? 

I tell myself there is.

All I can really know is how I feel.
 Forget about really knowing how the other person feels. 

Regardless if they tell me. 

So, it gets protected. 

I can't turn love on or off. 

I can't GIVE love.
Like its a book.
Or a pair if earrings. 

 I can't take it away either.

 It just IS.

However, what I protect are my words that express my "love". 

They range and vary in depth and meaning. 

I tend to keep it light.
Fluffy.
 It could belong to just about anyone. 

"Love your guts"
"Luv U"

Even, "Love You". 

I'm holding back. 

But, I can protect it with the lightness of the words. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

I love you. 

Love your guts-
The throw from the back of the love seat.

I love you -
Big down comforter, hand made by MawMaw and still smells like her home made cobbler. 

See? 

Three things:

-I'm trying on "I love you" when it is really the truth. 

-When it is the truth, and I tell you "I love you", I hope you feel me wrapping a big, soft, fluffy comforter around you.

-I love that I love some so deeply that words are futile. 

They know themselves as the "Top 5".

~a

What I know.

What I know

*Smile. It's important.

*Fighting reality is hard work.

*Everyone wants the chance to be good.

*Traveling gets you closer to knowing yourself.

*Try new foods. The worst that can happen is you'll look like a child spitting it out.

*The more chances you give someone, the bigger the chance they'll do better.

*Drink water.

*Looking people in the eyes when you talk to them makes it a real conversation.

*Your soul mate isn't always your spouse.

*Music is a necessity.

*A day spent in bed is required. (alone or with company)

*Your body is amazing.

*Texting is abused.

*Not everyone matches.

*Facebook is a form of evil.

*Pictures are worth much more than a thousand words. And dollars.

*Give yourself a break. Everyone else does.

*Being a martyr is manipulation. Put your cross down.

*Your white knuckle grip is futile against what is.

*Vitamin D is more like a hormone.

*Kissing is a must.

*An apple a day may keep the doctor away.... try it with avocado and kale.

*Have a date with your lover, every week. Even if it's watching your show in bed on Sunday night with dark chocolate.

*Sex is very important to your health. I promise.

*Chill out.

*The only person I want to be better than, is the person I was yesterday.

*Everything will be OK in the end. If it's not ok, it's not the end.

*Know your value so you don't undervalue yourself. Or over value yourself.

*Get good with the worst case scenario.

*The best money spent will be on music.

*Anxiety usually comes from self betrayal.

*There's always an exception.

*You would never talk to anyone the way you talk to yourself. Knock it off. I will too.

*Be really really good at at least one thing.

*Your body wants to move. Promise.

*The clarity that can come from a long, lone drive can be life changing.

*My hugs are addicting.

*The natural smell of a baby's head is sacred and reverent. That's why it can't be duplicated in a candle.

*The stupid, icky stuff still has to be done

*You do you, and I'll do me.

-a

One.

One.

If there ever was a child made so specifically and perfectly for a mom, my one is that for me.

One.

As far as numbers go, it’s the smallest. Anything lower is, well, not a number.

One.

For some, the idea of one, equals less.

Perhaps even a lack of abundance.

One.

For some, not enough.

For some, sorrow.

Not for me.

One makes me the richest person there ever was.

One over flows.

One embodies perfection.

One teaches me more than thousands have.

The words to describe my one? 

They are endless.

I’m a mother of one.

My body put me in my place.

I.

Am.

Grateful. 

I worked on this all night

I'm not one of those women that wake up, roll out of bed, throw something on, put a *pretty in my hair and have it actually pass for "ready for the day".
Oh, how I wish I could.
As you can see, my hair prohibits that.
This is what I look like when I wake up. And based off the picture, can you even imagine what my breath smells like?
Well, I get the pleasure of tasting it.

Sorry. TMI?

And, I have no idea what I did to my chin last night.
See the big dried blood mark? I have blood all over my hands.

I can't even imagine the stuff I might do if I took Ambien.

Hopefully my bedhead doesn't scare you away.

Happy Saturday!

* a pretty is what we call anything that can be
used to put up a ponytail, or of the like.


~a

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walk-in closet

I need to broaden my music pallet.
Let me tell you what I DONT like to listen to.

Daughtry (Sorry Xazmin)
Nickel Back
Rihanna
Nicky Minaj (i dont even care if thats not how I spell it)

I dont mind country. I used to listen to it a lot when I was in high school and then when I was in college. At Snow. In Ephraim.
For those of you that are not familiar with Snow College or Ephraim, just know this: Turkey Farms.
So, Country music is Ok. But, I have yet to find a country artist or song that I will want to listen to over and over and over.
However, I do believe that as far as the music industry goes, the nicest people are Country Music Artists.

Rant over.

I rarely listen to the radio. I HATE it.
I like to listen to little golden nuggets of "never heard before" music stylings.

So, maybe you are thinking, "Get to the point Alisa. Other than Brandi, who DO you like?"
I know that I could be mistaken for the creepy fan that knows everything from:
* where the stalking victim was born,
*to their blood type,
*to when she shuts her blinds.....

Maple Valley AB negative 7:00. After she has walked her dog.


Oh, knock it off! I'm not serious.

.....


Anyway. So, I like singer/song writer. I like depth in the music. I like it to be REAL music. No keyboards with "weeky weeky, bsht bsht, shicka shicka" fake sounds.

So, here is who I like: (in no particular order, other than the first one. Duh.)

*Brandi Carlile
*The Middle East
*Bon Iver (For those who say Bawn Eye-ver, just some clarification; its Bone I-vear)
*Acorn
*Foster The People (They are the most "weeky weeky, bsht bsht, shicka shicka" I get in my daily music)
*Florence + The Machine
*Ivan and Alyosha
*Mumford & Sons (I was listening to them before it was cool to)
*Ryan Adams

On occasion, I will listen to:
*Phoenix
*LCD Soundsystem
*KT Tunstall
*Civil Twilight
*Spoon


I think that is it. Well, I listen to more. And I like more, but I cant think of who or what.
See?
My musical wardrobe needs to expand and I need to need a walk in closet for it.

Any help? Who wants to help me and be my musical ambassador?
I had a musical ambassador at one point, but I think he quit.
He's been a "no call-no show" for a few months now.

Who do you LOVE to listen to? Over and over and over again.
And then again.

Then once more for the love of it.
Who is it?


Tell me. Right. Now.


~a

oh, and thank you. where are my manners....?

reason

Im laying here in my bed. In the dark. With Grace in my arms.

I cant think of anything more authentic, pure, natural, comforting, painful.........eternal, than a mothers love.
Than my love for her.

Loving her is what all of me is made of.
She is the reason my lungs expand with air.
She is the reason blood flows through my body.
She is what l feel when I feel. Anything.

She is the reason for everything.

mortar

Interesting.
Earlier today I thought about the words we say to those we love, when we feel (or even know), we wont get the chance to say them again.
A loved one is leaving. Perhaps to serve our country, their religion, or to serve their heart. We fear that we may not have the option to look in their eyes again. Feel their breath again. Touch them again. The fear is real and justified.
Even so, a loved one on tail end of their journey here on earth.
We think and say all the things we have never said or always said but couldn't possibly say enough.
None of the hurtful things about the relationship matter. And why would they?

So, why are these things so much more important, when we feel this time...is the last?
Or should I say...I.

Again, interesting.
A few hours later I got a text from one of the most important people in my life. I was asked kindly to tell this person the good things about them.
This person was hurting and needed to offset the icky things they were telling them selves.
Everything I told this person was absolutely what I felt about them.
But, I really did assume they knew that I felt these thing for them.
However, I cant think of the last time I told them.

Then, I read THIS post from a blog I follow. (I recommend you do too. Her girls remind me of my nieces)


Her close friends dad passed today. She writes about a few of her memories.
From what I gather, it was unexpected.

All those words I imagine his family wanted to say to him. I am not sure if the opportunity was provided.

But I know this.
Now is the perfect opportunity.
It doesn't need to be the deepest thing you've said. Or felt.
But, maybe if we allow the good stuff to float to the top, and the bothersome be camouflaged in between it all, and say what we see........ well, it wont take away the need to say it when we fear we wont have another chance.

I think.that everytime we say what we feel, it can serve as mortar. Not just glue, but the strong material that bonds the relationship. Everytime it leaves our hearts, travels to our lips and is given to our loved one; its one more layer of mortar.


~a