currentlies.

making : a mess of words on paper, dreams.

cooking : apple cinnamon bread, chai tea.

drinking : soon, chai tea.

reading : emotionally healthy spirituality, don't waste your life, the great gatsby.

wanting : peace, a little bit of warmth, a bear hug from my favorite brother.

looking : for joy.

playing : ultimate frisbee. (tomorrow morning.)

wasting : time.

wishing : for the right words to say, that I was better prepared for my SAT. that words could be erased. that I could go back to the beach, and stay there, with my best friends, forever.

enjoying : cool weather.

waiting : impatiently for too many things.

liking : my anatomy homework.

loving : the oh hello's. (and just music in general lately.)

hoping : to attend the University of Portland.

marveling : over the depths of His grace.

needing : to do pre-calc. (but wasting more time.)

smelling : the spices in my tea, warm apple bread, chili on the stove.

wearing : worn Sharks hockey t-shirts, running shorts, blankets on my lap.

noticing : little things.

knowing : that things need to change.

thinking : too much and too hard.

the aaron busters. [fantasy football woes]

I have the worst team in my fantasy football league. And it's only week two.

As the only girl in the league, I feel the need to prove myself. That I can play as well as the boys, and that I can make it to the playoffs. As of today, I don't know how possible that's going to be. Last week I lost 75-95 to my dear Stetson wearing friend, Cody. I didn't expect to win that round, as Cody has a great team and knows a lot about football. (His brother is a Raiders fan, though, so that's a little questionable.) This week, I felt confident.

I was only playing the second worst team in the league, after all. How badly could I do?

Um.

Apparently, really badly.

Aaron Rodgers played beautifully. Four touchdowns, 480 yards. 35 points for me. Dez Bryant, injured, but still tough as nails. He got me a stellar 20 points.

And that's when things started to go downhill. Montee Ball did nothing. David Wilson did nothing. The people on my bench did great things. I began to cry internally. My kicker did nothing. Real tears began to come to my eyes. (That's an exaggeration, no tears have been shed over fantasy football yet this year.)

I got a text from my friend Aaron, who's constant smack talking was the inspiration for naming my team the Aaron Busters. U can't have the worst team in the league and still expect to bust me.

Aaron, they say that slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady also wins fantasy football. I have no intention of giving up my invitation to Cody's Super Bowl party, and so I'm going to the playoffs if it kills me. Never mess with a girl who has serious motivation (food) to win something. Or a girl who's cousin is a former NFL player. You're going down, buddy, and I hope you know that everyone else in the league wants you to lose just as much as I do.

xx, Bailey
ps: basically my team sucks.
pps: that was the entire point of this post, I think. to tell you that.
ppps: what's your favourite football team? (I'm a diehard Cowboys fan.)

the dog days.

In the middle of June, you arrived. You were crying, missing your brothers and sisters, and you were tiny. You played with a little blue squishy dog-shaped dog toy, and you became my baby. You still are my baby. You've grown now. You're a whole five months old, and you can do several tricks. You don't come when you're called, though, puppers, and that could become a problem. You've escaped once already, off to boldly see new worlds in the neighbours' front yards. You're a dork, really. But you're my dork, and I love you.

[the one is an outtake. just in case you thought that taking photos of a puppy who's snuggled up on your lap was easy. ;) also, enjoy the shot of my insulin pump. it's something that I often have to tell my little Gus not to eat. silly pup.]