a very strange entry based on a very strange revelation.

Where to begin?

Something amazing happened yesterday. Something besides me actually having a birthday party for once.

So. I'm standing in my kitchen while we're all getting ready for dinner and the party, et cetera. Sam, my esteemed friend, is opening the fridge to get something out when he pauses, backtracks, closes the fridge and stares at the door.
"That's the Bellurys!"

Okay.
Now. Let me give you some background.

Around Christmas, we received one of those not-uncommon family Christmas pictures from people you haven't seen in roughly an era. In it were several young, attractive, dark-haired, dark-eyed people, and a man and a woman looking very parental. I liked these people, though I had no memory of ever being acquainted with them in any way, and so I decided the right thing to do, of course, would be to put their picture on the fridge, among the many snapshots of people we know and love. For months, whenever anyone came over and inspected the portraiture which covers the upper portion of our refrigeration unit, they'd ask, "Who are these people?" and I'd laugh and say, "I have no idea."

Now. Over the course of the almost-six-months since December, I've heard all about these wonderful people called the Bellurys. Rob Bellury this, Grace Bellury that...these people are all over the place. It took me days just to figure out they were all related. It's taken me hours to get used to the fact that they are the beautiful people on my refrigerator.

I stared at the picture in disbelief, then back at Sam, and then to my mom, and then the picture again. "Mom, we KNOW the BELLURYS?" I screeched.
"Yeah," Mom said, casually, as if the world wasn't tilting on its very axis. "You guys played together when you were really little. I'm friends with their mom."

So. Needless to say, yesterday was a good day. I had been puzzling over how to incorporate these Bellury people into my life on an in-real-life level. What better way to break the ice than to figure out that there isn't any?

The obvious next step then, was to google for a picture to go with this entry, and begin writing. Instead of my original plan(a picture of a marvelously messy refrigerator door), I ended up googling the Bellurys themselves. This is less creepy when you get some ridiculous picture of a cat eating grapes or something completely irrelevant to the actual person you're searching for. For the Bellurys, this is simply not the case. They're taking over the web, people. They're all OVER the place.

Watch out.

So, at a very high risk of being very creepy and losing any and all chance of these people actually liking me,
here is what I have learned from google:



One of them, Daniel, was in a band once. I get the distinct feeling that I would like this band. As far as I can tell, they have disbanded. This is sad.



Anna won a contest once! She also used to have long hair. (Technically, I cannot tell if this is really THE Anna Bellury. I'm just assuming that there aren't many of those in the world.)



Andrew has a myspace.



(my personal favorite.)

The Bellurys. Coming to a Refrigerator Door Near You!

Anyway.

I'm really too tired to bo blogging right now, probably. So, here's to hoping that I haven't said anything too creepy. I'm in a list-making mood as of late.

Simple Truths About Life:

1. Even if you sleep for twelve hours, staying up until 5am will always make you tired. Trust me.

2. Whatever you're looking for, it's always in the last place you'll look. This is a very simple truth that people always state as if it were a great revelation. "Did you find your keys?" "Yeah. Psh. Can you believe it? They were in the last place I looked." Well, let us hope you wouldn't keep looking after you've found them, eh?

3. The party must always end. But there is always something else to look forward to.

Oh!

And also,

Go see Lemon Yogurt, Rob Bellury's video blog.


Now, I should go nap. At...6:46 PM.
Ah, staying up early seriously messes your body up.
Again, thank you to the commenters. I guess I forget to remember that other people read what I write,even if they don't comment. So, thank you to the ones who remind me that someone really is out there, caring about what I have to say.

cleanliness is next to blogliness.

I have spent the last hour or more scouring the deep recesses of our kitchen. I set out to conquer the little dust-and-food-particle colonies that breed behind the picture frames, decorative china, and underneath the kitchen appliances, and I have been successful in my pursuits. The counters are blindingly resplendent in their spotless glory. I am so proud.
There are, however, observations I have made regarding the ins and outs of kitching-conquering. The little quirks and the overwhelming processes were, in true Annie's-mental-narrator fashion, being turned over and over in my head while I scoured. So, out of my faithful love for whoever may be reading this, I shall explore some of my mind murmurings and meanderings, as I am often wont to do.

First, I have come to be acutely aware of how much I want to make my family disappear entirely when I am in deep, indomitable pursuit of cleanliness. I'll be scrubbing and purging and scourging the crumb colonies when some unsuspecting relation of mine will enter the room and go rummaging about in the paper piles I have neatly banished to the edges of the countertops. What nerve. Depending on which member of the family it is, and what they're rummaging for, sometimes a quick, fiery glance can ward them off. More often than this, however, they either do not notice or choose to ignore the fact that I'm practically growling, trying to protect the cleanliness of the kitchen sanctum. It is a maddening process. I have, however, learned that if I try and employ their services while they're close by, they will usually be less quick to come rummaging again.

Similarly, a shorter thought:
How can a living, breathing human being with any conscious sense of right and wrong walk into a clean kitchen and put a dirty dish on the counter?

I think it's in the bible somewhere.
(try Proverbs 6:16, out of context)

To be fair, the clan members will usually put the detestable filth in the dishwasher, (but here's the killer clause-) if it's empty.
Handwashing a dish is strictly out of the question, obviously.


Moving on.

Maybe just one more kitchen thought, and then something new.

Lastly,
Nickel Creek's Why Should the Fire Die? is top-notch kitchen cleaning soundtrack material. One of my favorite lyrics on the whole CD:
You're shining still, behind the clouds,
saying I won't figure you out.
That might be true, but let me try,
and try, and try, for the rest of my life.

I could write a blog on that alone, my friends. Needless to say, harmonizing with words like those makes defeating dust bunnies all the merrier, and more musical.


Okay. Enough with that.

Things I Have Decided That I Like:

1. Heartbeat Hugs- Being able to hear someone's heart beating when you're hugging them is possibly one of the warmest experiences known to mankind. It falls into the same category as the feeling you get when you walk in from playing in the snow and there's a fire waiting to rejuvenate your limbs. I seriously recommend this kind of embracing. It beats the Baptist Side-Hug by about eighty-nine gold stars.

2. Joshua Radin's Music- He's indie acoustic, with a sweet-soft sounding vocal. If you know me, you know this is a no-brainer. Look him up next time you want to drive alone with the windows down on a beautiful day. Or just, whenever.

3. The Color on the Kitchen Walls- Mom re-painted the whole thing (minus the spot over the fridge. oops.) a week or so back, and I've been gradually warming up to the new hue. I've liked it since the first day or so, but I think we're becoming better friends. For the curious and the color-seekers like me, it's a light green color. Very light. Very clean. Most acceptable.

And that's about all I got.
Actually, for some reason, I could probably keep going. Perhaps there are years of unblogged paragraphs inside of me, pent up from all the time spent pretending like myspace was a reasonable writing outlet.

It's good to be doing it this way again.

Thank you to everybody who left comments.
You make me want to keep writing.
:)


[disclaimers: I love my family. Also, I sometimes exaggerate.]

hello! my name is:

Okay. So.


I feel like I'm behind the wheel of a new car. Writing here for the first time, I am settling into the plush leather, fingering the controls with expectant awe. And although technically I have no idea what that would actually feel like,
I'm going to trust my instincts and decide that it would be something like this.


[disclaimer: that is not my arm.]

Anyway. I'm hoping for the best. I can generally tell when blogging is a good idea because I start to narrate my life in my head in really goofy, trying-to-be-funny ways. I make all kinds of uncalled for cracks about the small commodities of my day. It's like I'm in such a severe need for entertainment that I host a second-rate comedy club in my head. Eventually, some less-interesting-more-realist part of me stands up and rolls her eyes in exasperation and says,
"Look. Just go write it all down, already. And get off the stage."

So, at the advice of my manager, I do. (I am.)

Today is a day of having much to do, but plenty of time to do it. Sometimes these days leave me feeling accomplished and content, and sometimes they just won't leave me. I have changed clothes three times today. It's like, if you give me enough time and space to just move through my day at my own pace, I'll begin to observe my moods in degrees. This leads to several decided "I don't want to wear this anymore" moments. These moments are not, however, all jammed up into one really frenzied hour-long space. This is not a classic case of the nothing looks good on me's. This is something else entirely. It's like a non-verbal commentary on how I feel.

So, at the risk of you losing that last shard of potentially being interested in what I'm saying, I'll elucidate:

Outfit 1- The Slacker: I got up, went to the laundry room, tossed what I slept in into the washer for no good reason except that I felt like it, and then proceeded to put on a fresh pajama ensemble. This outfit went through various sock-and-hoodie alterations, depending on how freezing my room was, before I scrapped it entirely.

Outfit 2- The Academic Pioneer: I wanted to feel like I could start schooling and accomplishing tasks with skill and fervor, and so I changed into jeans and a t-shirt. To be fair, I kept the t-shirt from the previous ensemble, but got rid of the socks-and-hoodie aspect.

Outfit 3- The Indie Writer: Having accomplished the better portion of my schoolwork for the day, I found myself wanting to stretch and move and be comfortable, without looking like I just got out of bed. So. As I write, I am sporting the summer-gypsy look in a purple head bandanna and a loose gray dress that does not belong to me. This is the perfect fit for sitting outside, typing nonsensical blogs, and drinking peach-lemon tea.


Although, almost anything is good with peach-lemon tea.

What else shall I say?

My cat is winding around my feet in earnest pursuit of my attentions. Ew, and now licking.
Do not be fooled. She wants food more than my love, I think.

Hm. Things I Have Decided That I Do Not Love:

1) Wearing band-aids on my fingers. This obstructs nearly every function of comfortable everyday life. Cooking, typing, hand-washing, and swimming are all most uncomfortable. Texting is downright laborious.

2) Really hot, humid weather. It's like that feeling you get when you sit in a way-too-hot-bath for way-too-long. Exept worse, because you can't get out. Maybe I should move.

3) Oversleeping. I should get up earlier.

4) The perspiring of my extremities. Sweaty hands are the worst.

5) When the pool isn't any cleaner than the creek. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, I could probably keep going. But I want you to keep coming back for more reading. So I'll stop now.
Oh, and click on all those links up there, if you haven't seen them before.
Or even if you have, perhaps.
and comment. I like to know you're here.:)