I'd like to extend a good morning to the world of people, with different names and backgrounds. . . Good morning to y'all.
Last night-whatever I was thinking-I said a bunch of ridiculous nonsense. Who really believed that I was going to wake at two o'clock in the morning and make a pie? Goodness, I am ambitious when I am resting in bed, and watching my candles burn. What do you guess happened when my alarm went off at two? I sat up, turned on a light, and took the hair tie off of my wrist, pulled my hair up, gave Connor five minutes to text message or call me. Before five minutes had gone by, I was asleep, back to dreaming about tornadoes and far away catastrophes. I didn't have pleasurable dreams during the night. When I woke at two, which I forgot to mention, I felt hot. And to my surprise, I was sweating, and that never happens to me. I let it slide, not thinking into it, and attributed it to my crazy, stressful dreams.
I officially got up at four-thirty, and by then, I felt well-rested and ready to start a new day. I was excited (don't you love the mornings that you start the day off with a excitement that no one can take away?).
I read ''20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" and did a small bit of research on my laptop. I made coffee, of course, and thought about my girlfriend, who is coming to my home for a sleepover tonight. I'm glad to have some quality time with her, because we haven't seen each other since I left for vacation. We are going to have writing time (we both write stories), movie time (we're watching "Houseboat" with Cary Grant), talking time, and then sleeping time. On Saturday, we are leaving at nine-thirty to go shopping for a formal for her. I'm thrilled to help her pick out a dress, because I've always wanted to go to a dance, but that isn't a possibility. It's as if I am going to the dance, because I am helping her pick out her dress. I'm really honored that she asked me to help her.
Now I must go. I have a lot to accomplish, including babysitting in a hour. Have a magnificent day!

P.S. I love this song. It's my song of the month, maybe my theme song for the year. I thought I would share it with you.

I am laying in bed, watching the flicker of golden light, from the three candles I have burning, cascade on my pale purple walls. The pretty light they are casting is relaxing and calming me. I may be calm, but my mind is racing.
I'm praying to Daddy [Jesus], asking for Him to help me mold and create a beautiful piece of literature one day. After reading three, perhaps four-it's late, I can't remember how many-classic novels, I have come to the conclusion that there is no need to read the other rubbish that comes out weekly at Barnes & Noble.
I want to be a writer, and I dislike admitting that I don't believe that I possess the talent to craft unique tales that could captivate the world, like "Little Women" (which left a sweet imprint on the world). Anymore, books are written by "famous" authors, and well perceived, because of the persons who penned the story. But if you are to really decipher the novel, you will see that the story the author is telling has been told countless times before. No one has anything new to say, for everything has been said. Therefore, why are we reading the works of the new authors? Why not engage in reading the unique, original work of the masters of literature? I am taking a year-long break from the authors of this day and age, and journeying back to the years that books were a prized jewel, and the writers wrote about things that weren't scarred and flawed and filled with immoral topics (I'm not implying that all of these stories were clean, or G-rated, but I do think they were a bit more G-rated than some of the garbage that sits in bookstores today).
If I am going to write a book, I want to write something original. I don't want to tell a story that has been told before. I realize that this idea of mine is probably why I have no potential to be a published author. I also don't have the tough skin, and wouldn't be able to handle the rejection of my stories.
I am content to write my own stories, and never see them in a bookstore. I am going to write and write and write. If I can make a sibling smile, because he or she found my scribblings to be inspiring, funny or whatever else, I have accomplished all that I wish. I will continue to store the notebooks in a box, in the attic. I will write for my future children, and perhaps they will want to read what I poured myself into when I was younger.
If Louisa May Alcott could write a story about her childhood and family, why can't I do the same? It fascinates me that she, who was faced with regular, day-to-day situations, like every girl and boy, was able to pen down the regular life events of her friends, family and herself, and write a story that was and is treasured by countless people.
I have a hard time writing down, in a book form, the life of Brooke-Linsee Faith, without the wording sounding jumbled and boring. I suppose the fact that I journal could come to my aid one day. I like to imagine that one day, when I am married, and I have four or six children, I will rummage through the attic, on a rainy day, and find my long-ago stored away journals; and then I will use those scribblings as a blueprint for a novel about my youth.
In all honesty, who would want to read a story about me? Who wants to hear about the boys I liked-the insignificant boys who held on to me [not literally] for a time? Who wants to read about failed attempts at cooking, while my sisters laughed (in a loving, sister-way)? Who wants to read about the times that I yelled at my siblings, and then prayed with all of my might, with tears streaming down my face, for Him to help me to never yell again? Who wants to read about a person's life, unless it is masterfully penned onto paper?
Oh, life. . . Now I must return to "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea", after I say a prayer to Father. I'm going to ask Him to store my possible-novel-material thoughts in a huge box, for my sake, so that one day I can take out the box and use some of the ideas for a story.
Goodbye world.

BLK

I am in a good mood, waking up early helps improve the happy state that I'm in. I am not in the mood to talk about much. Henceforth, I am warning that this update won't be interesting. But I want to share what is flying around in my head. I am nearing my birthday which is three months away. I'm not thinking about the presents that I'll receive. I'm thinking about all that has changed in my life in a year, and the way that I know things will continue to change as I grow older and older. I'm not excited or scared. I'm happy to have the knowledge of knowing that God is with me and will guide me through this new age. It's crazy to know that so much is about to unfold. I am at a loss for words, as I contemplate the new paths that I will have to journey on. I am finished talking about my birthday.

I am drinking coffee and thinking about the chocolate chip pancakes that I will soon be making. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I love being able to eat in peace, while writing in a notebook (did I mention that Connor bought me a beautiful journal), drinking coffee, and reading my Bible. Breakfast holds a lot of sweet memories for me. From eating at Cracker Barrel with my younger sister, one chilly February morning, to eating outside on the porch in the summer. I have my best conversations with Father (Jesus) in the early mornings. I am crazy about waking early, reading, and then having breakfast and writing in my journal.

I also enjoy working out, which is an odd thing to enjoy. Why do I like to work out? Because it is quiet time to listen to music and talk to God. If you haven't figured out, I live in a very hyper house, with lots and lots of noise. I like to have quiet time, and to be honest, I treasure the quiet moments that I can have in a day. Working out in another getaway, along with baths. I used to dislike taking baths, until recently. I am getting to be a bit of a freak about taking baths. I own the bath supplies and lotions and so on. It's silly, but it's another getaway that allows me to read and write and think clearly, without little ones talking.

Connor. Connor. Connor. Do you ever feel like that, concerning someone? Do you ever have someone's name going through your head over and over? I am so happy about Connor. He is such a blessing in my life. God is gracious and kind and has blessed me beyond what I deserve. When I started dating Connor, I didn't just start dating a guy, even though I did do that, I gained five friends, who care and love me. His parents and siblings are incredible. Their love and care is precious. And it means the world to me to know and contemplate how much my family loves him and his family. It's a blessing. God has blessed me beyond measure.

I am ready to eat. I will, hopefully, Xanga soon, because Xanga is another one of my many journals.

I love snow. I woke to a thin layer of snow. It's beautiful outside. I am thinking about walking outside and talking some photographs.

I am surrounded by my sweet siblings, who are just waking up, wrapped in throw blankets, and talking to each other. It's very cute. I am making breakfast: pancakes and bacon for the littlies.

Today is going to be a good day. The Christmas production is tonight. It's been a blast rehearsing and-- but I'm ready for it to be over and finished. There is a big party before the production. It'll be enjoyable.

I am on winter break. I am happy.

Now it's time to make breakfast. Have a great day.

I am slightly depressed. I was depressed, till I spoke with Daddy [God]. He is the best person, in the whole world, to talk to. My Wednesday schedule is shaping up busily. I have a job to babysit. I have to work on some homework and exercise from 11-12. I started running a few days ago. I am happily able to run for forty minutes straight. Woo hoo. I am siked. I'm resting. No running today.



I visited Borders on Monday. Here is the entry I meant to add Monday evening:

* * * I am sitting at Borders, listening to the cafe girl strike up a conversation with an elder gentleman. The man is talking about the staff like he comes everyday and watches them. Lexi [my nine-year-old sister] is sitting across from me, and she is enjoying the music on my iPod. It's a chilly, beautifully festive day with a gorgeous, gray sky. In my opinion, a bookstore is the perfect location to be on an afternoon like this one. Every person, that I have observed, is drinking something hot or cold. The cafe smells wonderful. Mmm. I am watching customers step up to the counter and order. The variety of faces, ages and clothing styles is fascinating me. Yet, everyone is happy when coffee is involved. I feel like I must come across as a "procrastinating college student", who also married too young. People believe I am married, due to the ring on my wedding finger. It's nearing two o'clock. Connor is at work; he is sick. I am going to find a book to read.

P.S. The Lloyd's [boyfriend's family] Christmas card arrived!

"Wow. I am a size 8 and 1/2. Just admit it, I have really big feet for a girl."

''I have really big feet for a girl," Connor slyly responded.

Umm, stop trying to make this better, I thought in my head.

"I'm serious. I'd be a size 13 in a girl's shoe. So, I'm the one who has really big feet."

Trust a guy to take a situation and turn it opposite down and all around and still make the girl laugh in the end: priceless and stupid.

Who will be going to the Super Bowl?

I think the Saints and Colts. . . Yeah. Watch me be wrong. :P

I am sitting at my laptop, listening to music and thinking about the day. It's Sunday. I am about to depart for church. The weather is beautiful. I am random. Should I leave now? Yes, I agree. I will blog later.

I have a date with my sister and cousin to attend a 7 PM showing of New Moon. I despise being apart of a frenzy of females that are obsessed. I am not obsessed with the Twilight Saga. In fact, if it wasn't for my cousin and sister, I wouldn't be attending the movie tonight. But I am a good friend, and I am going.

Amazingly, I have a notebook full of meal plans.

With exciting events coming up, I am researching the foods to splurge on and the foods to avoid, or eat small portions of. I also have a list of stress relieving foods, which include spinach salads. My father enjoyed salads without dressing. When he went out to eat, he'd order a salad without dressing. Odd, right? Well, yes, of course. Great, healthy food is about broadening your taste pallet (eat sushi) and getting downright creative.

Today, I'm having a piece of tilapia, a spinach salad and rice for lunch. Mmmm. In December, I get to have lots of sushi-- my absolute favorite.

Have a wonderful, healthy day of eating and exercising.