rachelapfennig
I've been notified i have a friend request.
I've been notified someone wrote on my wall.
I've been notified she's engaged.
I've been notified i must pay time warner more than i pay for heat or water.
I've been notified my flight is delayed.
I've been notified he's in the hospital.
I've been notified i must really start taking notice for my self.
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ah, the life of a writer.
together. stuck.
oh, what can i say.
how could i even say it? explain the punch in the gut. the tingle through my arms. the quiver in my knees, when your lips speak my name.
it's my uncle tom's favorite picture. after his wedding to aunt donna. i clung to the walls of my fort, peaking through it's leafy branches. I know that weeping tree well, claiming most of nana and grandpa's back yard.
I was dressed in white. the flower girl, more truly then ever in the spring of my childhood.
Julia lost a tooth last night. Her parents, on the way to Cabo the next morning, threw $3 under her pillow, kissed her goodnight, and went to pack for the get away. Only, this night, Julia had written a note, to Smiley. She was hoping to be penpals with the tooth fairy she'd heard so much about. Earlier that week, on the playground, someone had tried to convince her that Santa didn't bring the presents at Christmas. The parents all got together at midnight on Christmas Eve to shop for and deliver them. There was no letter when she woke, and Julia started to consider the Easter Bunny.
I bite my nails. Always have. And when I say bite, i mean chew. And when I say nail, i actu ally mean the skin sur rond ing my nail. Par tic u larly my thumb nail. Call it a habit. Call it a learned cop ing devise. My mom does it. My grandma, my aunts. Strangely enough, not my sis ter. But the rest of us, we all bite. chew, really.