I am an introvert.


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I am an introvert, recharged by alone time.

Overwhelmed by social stimulation.

There must be something wrong with me, right?

At least that’s the message I heard.

A society built by the outgoing.

Why am I not outgoing?

Why is simple small talk a problem?

I wish I knew.

Socializing is often stressful.

Sweat trickles down my back.

Uncomfortable silences

Even after rehearsing  I stumble with words.

That’s right I rehearse conversations.

What, you don’t?

I feel stupid.


If only I was less “shy,”

Just break out of my shell.

But it’s not easy.

If you’re me.

To be sensitive, defensive,

and selfish.

But in a different way than one may think.

Selfish with my innermost feelings.

For without protection they aren’t safe.

From fear of judgment, fear of loneliness,

Fear of fear.

Fear of hate.

The Alternative Route for Hair Washing: No More Shampoo

So many talented bloggers I know, even the one closest to me, love you honey!

Finding Nikki

This seems like a trivial topic, given my current situation in some serious soul-searching, but this is something I’ve wanted to try for a while, so why not now?  I’ve read about No-Poo movements, and no, it’s nothing to do with poop. It’s about ditching the shampoo and conditioner and taking an approach that is better for your hair.

From my extensive Wikipedia research, I learned that shampoo is a relatively new product, being invented in the 1920s. I also learned that daily hair washing, which I though has always been necessary for my hair, is actually not necessary, and is BAD for your hair.  Basically washing your hair everyday strips it of its natural oils, so your scalp is fooled into thinking that it needs MORE oil. Ta-da, the invention of Greasy Hair! Shampoo companies must have figured this out, and they made products that do a really good…

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I want to be a waitress when I grow up.

While I’m in the re-blogging mood also check out my friend Jessie’s new blog, she’s a talented aspiring therapist and now I found out a talented writer as well!


That’s right. A waitress. At least that’s what I said in the third grade. But what better to do with a child’s dream than to squash it and tell   her to think of something different and “better” to be than a shitty, low-paid waitress? (Thank you, Ms. Ellickson.)

So I changed it to “marine biologist.” It sounded smart. And it would get the teacher off my back. I went with that for a while until I realized that I’m terrified of the sea (and the threat of tsunamis, in particular) and I fucking HATE biology.

Next idea: stand-up comedian. Again, a low-paid job with little chance of success. But I’d get to talk all day and (potentially) make people laugh. Realistic, it was not. Closer to a real yet feasible dream job? Most definitely, though I wouldn’t realize it for another sixteen years or so.

Enter junior high. No one knows…

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Poet Tree

Check out my sister-in-law’s new blog called “Lauren Sits.” She’s a talented aspiring writer and a disability advocate! 🙂


So here’s Poet Tree: It’s about how my disability can both be devastating and wonderful all at the same time.

Poet Tree

That tree is my brain.

It gives me energy to see and to simply be.






loud and speak.




sad, and write strangely


poetry, it gives me capacity.

There are withered leaves there –cerebral palsy.

I am hurt.

I am different.

I have no choice.

I am extraordinary.

I persevere.

I have no choice.

I love my Poet Tree,

don’t you?

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