It could be all these things...

I learned a few things today.
The first one is to not mess with Clint Eastwood. You don't need a reason why, just don't do it.

Next is how much people in the worship band actually care about me. The last 2 times I was supposed to play some bad stuff was going on in my life. The first time, I had a nervous breakdown because I thought that no one wanted me there and that I was just another person that no one really paid attention to. I know I'm not the best guitar player in the world but I've been though a lot and when you've been though as much as me, you can be allowed to not be that great at certain things. I love playing guitar, I just don't ever have the time for it, but that's another blog for another day. The 2nd time, I was in the hospital visiting my uncle who just got diagnosed with cancer. I was supposed to play in the band tonight but I didn't know. When I found out, after the talk, I felt horrible. If I do even the slightest thing wrong, I feel so guilt ridden. It sucks. But it happens. So anyway, I felt horrible but at the same time, I learned that the people in the band actually cared about me. Granted, they went through all the trouble of setting up the mic cause JJ doesn't have a pick up, but that can't be the whole reason...right?


The Vinyl Countdown

For Christmas I got a record player. It has been such a joy to collect vinyl ever since getting it. Being able to actually hold the music in my hands and see it spin before my eyes is surreal. I find myself plugging my record player in more often than listening to music on my laptop. It's a different experience and I love it. I can't wait to watch my vinyl collection grow and to hopefully give my kids some of this vinyl. That would be a dream come true for me.


what are you waiting for??

I sometimes wish guys would just be upfront about if they like you or not. For one, it would save me a ton of heartbreak. It's almost like, if they just told me that they were into me I could be like, 'ok, good luck with that' or 'sure, lets go out'.

This whole beating around the bush thing isn't gonna get the rabbit to come out. It's gonna scare the crap out of her and she'll never come out if you keep doing that.

Just sayin'


I need to find my way back to the start

I've started to go through my clothes to downsize for college. Or one might call it...Decluttering! Working on No. 5 today on my list. Lets hope this works! =]


Snow Storm

Ok, so all day long I've been reading the tweets from one of my favorite bands, This Providence while they've been trapped in their van in a snow storm. And as a way to, hopefully cheer them up, I wrote a poem about this experience.

Soft white cotton fluffs falling
slowly from the cloudy
sky has made you well,

Have no fear boys, for
help is on the way.
Hopefully. I'm with you in spirit
hovering over your van. Watching you
hull your way though the snow.

David and everyone else be glad
dawn is on it's way. Light will guide
disaster away. Andy, Gavin, David and
Dan will be well at the next
dance party.

I hope this cheers you up boys and melts the
ice that sticks to the roads. And that you're back
in the place where your words are sung.
Innocent songs are rejoiced at this place.
Into the wonderful wild crowd you'll be.

By now you must think this girl,
Bailey, is crazy,
but have no fear
because really she's harmless and will be your
beautiful rescue =]

Hope you like it everyone!! =]


Scranton Hot Dog from Scranton?

So, today I gave blood. And I was kinda expecting to just walk away from it like everyone else. After sitting there...well, more like lying there, I got up and started to walk over to the concession booth and I started seeing spots. The nurses were freaking out and telling me to sit down. But even when I sat down they were still freaking out. I couldn't really think or see straight and I got super dizzy and lightheaded. Honestly, I don't remember being taken over to the beds. But I felt a cold compress be put on my chest and forehead. The nurse asked me my name a few times before I answered and asked me some other basic questions. They kept my feet elevated for a bit and then they sat me up again and brought me a Pepsi. Then out of no where, this really cute male nurse came rushing over to me and laid me back down. He said I looked really green and wanted to make sure that I was ok. I had to lay down for a little while longer before they let me get up and leave. That Chex Mix was the best thing I have ever had. =]



I found this great site called Missed Connections. I posted it on my side links so you guys should go check it out. It's really sweet and makes you think, "What would've happened if I had talked to that person?"


Not A Love Poem

This is not a love poem. This is a poem written for a beautiful young girl who will be swept off her feet. This is not a poem to make a young man fall in love with me. This is not a poem about Alan Guzman, Zach Lovell or Ben Mulch. This is not a poem about Orlando Bloom. This is not a poem about Taylor Lautner. This is not a poem about Jude Law. This is not a poem about Emile Hirsch, Ryan Renyolds or George Clooney. This is not a poem about how much his smile makes me melt. This is not a poem about how I get weak in the knees at the sight of his eyes. This is not a poem about me in a white dress. This is not a poem about stolen glances or quick kisses. This is not a poem about that one time when we baked cookies. This is not a poem about the first time we held hands or our lips touched and my heart almost stopped. This is not a poem about me playing our song over and over before I go to bed. This is not a poem about holding me close before drifting off to sleep. This is not a poem about our first fight. This is not a poem about missed connections. This is not a poem about how you broke my heart or crushed my dreams. This is not a poem asking “What if…” This is not a poem telling everyone how fantastic So-And-So was or what Whats-His-Face said. This is not a poem preaching to the choir about how to find love. This is not a poem saying how much I love you or him or that guy over there. This is not a poem about you.