Reflection

As people, we constantly evaluate ourselves. We wonder if there are things that we should change or things that we shouldn’t change. We reflect on the experiences that cause us to grow as well as the experiences that break us down. We all have innate qualities that we wish to change. We can be selfish, impatient, easily frustrated, and over dramatic. We cry, we laugh, we yell, we scream, and often times we stay silent in fear of what others may think. Keeping that in mind, I must ask, do we truly ever let our true colors show? Or do we put on a mask for the rest of the world to see? And more importantly, who are the lucky few, who will love you exactly for you? 

{Source: Pinterest}

But You Could Have Had...

{Source: GoogleImages}

Mark: Lex - I'm still in love with you. I tried not be, but it didn't work. And Sloane's gone, there is no baby, and I don't want to sleep around. I want another chance. I'm in love with you. 

Lexie: Karev, he's...Mark, I have a boyfriend. 

Mark: I know. All I'm saying is that you could have a husband.

Find Someone

{Find Someone}

who'll never get tired of kissing you everyday.

who'll hug you when you are jealous

who'll understandingly stay silent when you are mad

who'll squeeze your hand when you are not in the mood

who'll plan and imagine the future with you in it

and when you find that {someone}

NEVER LET GO.

{source pinterest/photography}

Lately

{Lately}

I have been in a constant state of {reinvention} ; trying to discover who I am really am. With age, do I become a better person?

{Lately}

My {fears} lie within success; am I living to my full potential? Are my talents being wasted as I sit... {stagnant}?

{Lately}

I am {brave}. I seize to silence my voice, I speak what is on my mind no longer regretful of the unfavorable outcome.

{Lately}

I am {inspired}, eager to create; eager to get my hands dirty.

{Lately}

I have been {dreaming} of elegance. Superficially wrapping my mind around De la Renta,Christian Louboutin, Versace.

{source:pinterest}

Procrastination

{The work you do while you procrastinate is probably the work you should be doing the rest of your life}

Jessica Hische

{theembellishment.tumblr.com}

Happy Hour Readers:

What is the work you do while you procrastinate?

Serene

{pinterest}

Adjective: Calm, peaceful, and untroubled; tranquil

Men vs. Women

I'd like to start by saying that I am not a feminist. My idea of feminism is very much like Ani DiFranco; "every woman has the right to do what ever she needs to do." Basically in simplified terms, self-determination. Now this alone can be VERY subjective. Self determination for many women is highly individualistic. But before I get too ahead of myself, I will start from the beginning.

It started simple enough, just a mere text between a girl and one of her best guy friends. We had got to talking about men and women. Now, this alone, can be a very VOLATILE conversation. Men and women have been existing on THIS planet for many years now, but clearly we are from two very different planets. Hence popular novels such as "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus." Anyways, I reached out to him because I got to thinking about the beginning stages of a relationship. You know that wonderful stage where men are willing to do just about anything to win your undying affection through random cute texts, love notes, and surprise kisses? Well, I was telling him how I missed that stage. Unfortunately, however, this stage is inevitable. The thrill of the chase simply fades when couples get comfortable. His response however, surprised me. He said "It is funny how girls notice things like that. There isn't one guy in the world that could keep us doing that stuff. It's just too much."

Playing devils advocate I replied: "True. But how come women are expected to?" Which, in my opinion, is a fair question to ask. How much is too much for our men?

Society, as a whole, for decades has told us that we have to: "Clean house. Make dinner. Do this. Take care of this." And while the cute gestures seemingly fade from our men, we as women, are still expected to uphold a certain standard. We are expected to remain physically,emotionally, and sexually desirable. I won't get into much detail, but there is a reason why Victoria Secret is still VERY much in business as well as the adult film industry. Men actually believe that we are supposed to look and uh hem, perform like that! ALL while, cooking, cleaning, and fetching beers from the fridge. And if we fail to do the above stated, we can easily be replaced with a much younger, prettier, and more "adventurous" version.

At this point in the conversation, I was happy to hear that he agreed with me. In fact, his next response was: "You guys are crazy for what we put you through." AMEN BROTHER. Now, I would like to say at this point, I know that not all men are like this. There are plenty of men, including my own, who sincerely appreciate their women. With that being said, my beef is with society. Why, at times are we forced to feel mediocre if we aren't "perfect"?

Expectations. Why do they differ between the sexes? Men, were once expected to be the bread winners, but now, women are becoming the financial leaders tackling the task of being a mother and a wife. Again, why is there such a paramount difference in expectations? And is it fair to EXPECT from our men, all the cute, lovey-dovey stuff, as a sign of appreciation for all that we willingly do?

{Happy Hour Readers: What are your thoughts?} 

1926-1962

I do not believe that she took her own life...

 And if she had...

I do not believe she would have said this:

{source: kisskissmarilynmonroe}

{As far as I'm concerned, the happiest time of my life is now

There's a future and I can't wait to get to it}

Marilyn Monroe: Life In Her Own Words

written by: George Barris

A few days later, Marilyn was found dead in her home.

Mystery?

Conspiracy?

Either or, she was taken far too soon.

{May she rest in peace}

{source: LIFE}

What she left behind...

He had been there before. His surroundings, however, seemed distorted as if the pieces of the puzzle no longer fit. He was engulfed in a wave of illusion; a thick fog of desolation as he ran his fingertips across the sink. He could smell her shampoo and the faint aroma of her body lotion that she had used every night before they went to bed. How long had she been gone? The shower, he noticed still glistened of tiny drops of water.

Slowly, he continued searching the hotel room. Although he couldn't see her, he knew he had found her.

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Work it!

“Sex appeal is fifty percent what you've got and fifty percent what people think you've got.”

{Sophia Loren}

Enhance Your Life In Ten Minutes {or less}

It seems that everyone has been rather stressed lately, so I wanted to write a quick post on how to enhance your life in just a few minutes. I truly believe that we need to take time and appreciate the little things in life!

{Watch the sunset with a loved one}

Turn off that TV, grab a glass of wine, and cuddle up with someone who is special to you!

{Get your body moving}

Even a brisk walk can enhance your mood significantly! Heck, you could even dance in front of the mirror...I won't tell anyone.

{Write a "thank you note" to a loved one}

Forget the text messages, the e-mails, the Facebook comments...write a letter and actually mail it.

{Look through your oldest family photo album}

Sometimes you just need a quick reminder that your family will always be there for you! Family memories always seem to bring a smile... 

{Play}

When was the last time you stopped everything you were doing and just played? Next time it rains go puddle hopping...draw flowers on the sidewalk with chalk...go skinny dipping! Just have fun.

{Visualize or imagine a positive outcome for any issue}

The glass CAN be HALF-FULL!

{Go to bed 10 minutes early}

The extra sleep will make for a smoother morning 

{Hang out by some water}

Who isn't happy at the beach, or the lake, or the pool, or the river... 

{Seek Inspiration}

{Sit quietly by yourself}

The solidarity just be what you need...

{photos:pinterest/weheartit}

Life: A Daring Adventure

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{Flirt with disaster}

With the Words of A Love Song

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In the Spotlight: Justin & Mila

{elle}

11:59

The clock read 11:59. Almost midnight, he thought, as he held the photograph in his shaky hands. The numbers were the colors of rubies; a pair of snake eyes burning an image in his mind. With slight hesitation, he took a shot of whiskey, perspiration streaming down his pale face. "Did she ever mention murder?" Her words, much like his past, haunted him. For a moment he sat in confusion, replaying the conversation he had with Detective O'Hara.  It didn't seem to make sense. She had posed as a seductress; a woman seeking his sexual desire. He never got the impression she was in law enforcement, but then again, why would he? 12:05. 

****

His blood lingered on her fingertips as she removed the leather gloves from her hands. His blood smelled of iron; inducing a wave of nausea that nearly made her collapse. He had not been the first person she killed, but the act in itself, made her sick. Upon removing her last item of clothing, she walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As steam filled the tiny room, she began to tremble. She had never imagined herself as a killer; fighting for survival, concealing her identity and everything she once was. Why did I have to get involved she whispered to herself, as she stepped into the shower.

****

"Do you think he knows that it is a set-up?" he asked, taking a pull from his Budweiser. "I don't think so," she replied, confidently. "I don't think he has any clue. He is so intoxicated with the idea of finding her that he will believe anything. Stupid, if you ask me." she laughed as she applied a second coat of lipstick. "I hope your right Doll." he scoffed once again taking a pull from his bottle. "I ain't prepared to start getting too involved in this mess. I got a wife at home." he suggested, as he mentally undressed the waitress with his eyes. "Oh ya? well I'm sure she would appreciate you checking her out." she gushed taking a sip of her wine, motioning to the waitress for another. 

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Are you there Vodka?

 {There are days where you need a quick pick me up; a glass of wine, a chocolate chip cookie, possibly both. But since I am work, and drinking on the job may be frowned upon, I decided to look up some quotes from Chelsea Handler the author of: "Are you there Vodka? It's me Chelsea" and "My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One Night Stands". Enjoy!}

 "Are you there vodka? It's me, Chelsea. Please get me out of jail and I promise I will never drink again. Drink and drive. I will never drink and drive again. I may even start my own group fashioned after MADD, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, but I'll call it AWLTDASH, Alcoholics Who Like to Drink and Stay Home." 

"I went out with a guy who once told me I didn’t need to drink to make myself more fun to be around. I told him, I’m drinking so that you’re more fun to be around." 

"I think we can all agree that sleeping around is a great way to meet people." 

"You know you're a hot mess when the only person buying you drinks all night is yourself."

"There are two kinds of people I don't trust: people who don't drink and people who collect stickers."

The Enemy Within

{pinterest}

{we have to learn to be our own best friends because we fall too easily into the trap of being our own worst enemy}

Roderick Thorp

In the Spotlight: Kate Hudson

{elle}

Did She Ever Mention Murder?

"I still don't understand Scarlett. I know nothing about you!" he replied, frustrated. "Look, Damien, there are things you don't understand about Anna." "Don't you dare bring up Anna!" he snapped. "Would you please listen to me Damien? Stop being so damn stubborn! They are after her. She has been in hiding for the last year. The FBI offered to help her, but she refused." she explained. "Wait, what? Who is after her? Why would anyone be after Anna?" "I told you, there are things you still don't understand about Anna. Here, take a look at this picture. This is 'Anna'." 

Skeptically, he grabbed the photo from Scarlett's hand. Although it didn't look like Anna, he knew it was her. No matter how hard she tried to conceal her identity, her eyes would forever be imprinted in his mind. They were no longer ice blue but the color of smoke; gray, lifeless. Her once lively brunette hair, was now platinum blond. "It's her, but why? And who are you?" he questioned. 

"My name is Detective O'Hara. I've been assigned to offer you protection from the men that are after Anna. They are going after anyone who was ever close to her. Did you know that she has a background in Special Ops?" "A what?!" he proclaimed in utter disbelief. "Listen Damien," she continued. "Anna might have dug her own grave. She has messed with the wrong people at the wrong time." "So, what you are trying to say is that Anna is in severe danger?" he asked as he rubbed his throbbing temples. "Yes, she is. But we are doing all that we can. But I need your help. Did she ever mention a murder?"

{pinterest}

To do:

{source/pinterest}

{dance in the pouring rain}

1/4"

He had missed; his target still alive. As he adjusted the scope of his sniper, he saw that he had been a 1/4 inch off, which was enough to bring her to knees but not nearly enough to stop her heart. Her name was Anna, and unlike his other targets, her beauty made him stop dead in his tracks; paralyzing his ability to think clearly. Even in the pale moonlight he could make out her hourglass figure and platinum blond hair. She was worth a million, yet he missed the simple shot. Slowly he made his way to her; crawling throughout the woods, careful not to give away his identity. 

She was about a 100 yards away and he could hear the moans that come from her fragile body. She was cursing, rummaging about the forest searching for a tourniquet he presumed. He knew he had to finish the job but he wanted to make sure he got a clear, definite hit. He knew his boss would be disappointed, if not furious, that he was delivering a body with not one, but two bullet wounds. For a brief second, pity flooded his brain but the vision of his new Ferrari snapped him back to reality. 

****

She could hear him zoning in on her; the sound of his boots breaking twigs, the sound of his heavy breathing. Within moments she caught a glimpse of his weapon. She grinned in disgust. "Rookie", she whispered as she positioned her body directly in the line of fire; adrenaline pumping furiously throughout her warm blood. Silently she counted; five...four...three..two...one. "Hey asshole!" she yelled. Impulsively, he lifted his weapon engaging the trigger. "Big Mistake Sweetheart", she laughed as she pulled the trigger, sending a bullet directly in between his eyes. As she lowered the pistol into her holster, she moved towards his lifeless body; the sweet aroma of gunpowder and revenge engulfing her nose. 


He was about 6'2" and muscular, yet one bullet had knocked him off his feet in a blanket of his own blood. In his pocket he carried a stainless steel lighter and a folded up twenty dollar bill that smelled of sweat and oil. She assumed he was a mechanic by trade, possibly a construction worker. His hands were large and calloused presumably from years of hard work. His jaw was strong; masculine. His eyes the color of coal. She wondered why he decided to become an assassin as she flipped through his brown leather wallet. His name was Silas Jones, 34; a resident of Tallahassee. He presented no photographs of a wife or children. For a moment she stared at him. She knew nothing of this man, yet she wondered what he was leaving behind. Gently, she closed the lids of his eyes with her fingers that were adorned in a film of leather; careful not to leave her prints behind. "I hope you enjoyed meeting your maker," she snarled as she grabbed the sniper that laid beside him. 

Don't Run!

{source:pinterest}

It's Not Over

His heart had grown cold, and he barely recognized the man that stood before him as he glanced in the mirror. He regretted being short with Scarlett and his thoughts kept going back to her pretty face and fiery red hair. He was torn; engulfed in curiosity, yet reserved in the unknown. He wondered how this mysterious woman already seemed to know so much about him, yet he knew nothing about her. She had been watching him. But why?

He thought about going back to the bar to apologize to her, but fear paralyzed him. His feet failed to move from the cool, hard tile he stood upon. Something had changed the moment Anna left. Almost as if everything around him was that of a dream; a parallel universe between reality and fantasy. He had forgotten how to trust; to have any kind of 'normal' relationship. Had he been so consumed in searching for Anna that he forgot how to live? Had Scarlett seen this? And if she had been watching, why didn't he ever notice her?

For a few seconds, he stared at the home that was once Anna's. Her art work still hung from the pale green walls, slightly covered in a film of dust that formed from neglect. Her presence, no longer lingering within the confides of the dark room where they once shared glasses of wine and the secrets that will never be revealed. With a sigh, he shut the door and walked down the rickety staircase leading to the city. 

As he turned the corner, Scarlett stood before him, smiling. "I'm sorry" he started, "I didn't-". With that she stopped him, putting her finger on his full lips. "Stop, Damien. I do not wish to hear your apologies. People spend their entire lives saying they are sorry, but for what? I believe that everything we say or do, is because we wanted to..." Her response surprised him; her compassion unwarranted. For a moment he stood silently, searching her beautiful eyes as he listened to the passing cars and the stereos that were entirely too loud for this hour.

"Damien, who are you searching for?" she asked cautiously. "It's a long story", he mumbled staring at his feet, no longer able to look her in the eye. "But I can tell you that it's not over for me. I'm not done searching for her" he whispered. "I just can't let go yet." he replied, suddenly nauseous.

"Of who, Damien?" she asked, moving closer to him. "Her name was Anna. She disappeared in the middle of the night. It's been a year since I've seen her." Tears began to form around his eyes. "She was breathtaking, Scarlett." "Have you contacted the police?" she asked apologetically. "They haven't been able to give me any answers. They have been utterly useless." As he spoke, he couldn't help but wonder how she found him, here on this particular street corner. "Wait, how did you know where I live Scarlett?" "I told you Damien, I've been watching you..."

Turn The Page

{you can't get to 'happily ever after' without turning the page}

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