A few days ago, I read an online article about celebrity crushes and it really hit me. Ouch. This is me, for the most-part. (Based on recent interests, anyway. I haven’t always felt this way.) However, I will say that I don’t go for the ‘bad boy.’ Just the adventurous guy. I’m a good girl, and I want a good boy.

An excerpt: “A woman who is professionally successful and highly achievement-oriented is often attracted to a bad boy, because being with someone who is unreliable and spontaneous– her complete opposite– is very exciting and sexy. Because he’s not someone to settle down with, in choosing him you communicate that you aren’t yet ready for a quality relationship. Instead, you are looking for fun and probably feeling the need for a little rebelliousness. You might even be a bit unhappy, but not ready yet to look at your life. You haven’t yet realized that your heart will pump faster when you find someone who is similar, not your opposite.”

Once, I posted a blog about how horrible it is to feel ashamed. But that’s not as horrible as feeling like you don’t matter. Whenever you’re feeling down, just remember: You matter to me.

Sometimes I catch myself patting someone on the back when I’m hugging them. I hate it when I do it. I’m always scolding myself afterward. Why the pat? Why? I don’t like those hugs. They’re lame. They seem cold somehow, when a hug should be warm.

Then: I never watch Oprah, but I was flipping through the channels the other night and had to stop. Steve Santagait, author of “The Manual: A True Bad Boy Explains How Men Think, Date, and Mate– and What Women Can Do to Come Out on Top” guested the show. He commented on how a woman patted his back during a hug. Oh, no: the pat hug. He said when a woman gives a man a pat hug she’s telling him, “You’re. Not. Getting. Any.” Oh, man.

Maybe I should let you go. I wouldn’t be replacing you, just moving on. Because maybe somehow you’re still holding me back. Maybe it’s the last stone left overturned; the last pebble to be put back in its place. It’s just: Can I be that brutally honest to you? Can I be that brutally honest to myself?

Hold my hand and I’ll melt.

Words like ‘hero’ and ‘passion’ are overrated. Or at least they’re overused. I hardly ever use them. I just can’t do it. I feel like I’m being too zealous or overexaggerating or something. These words aren’t to be said nonchalantly. Hero, passion– they’re strong words, serious words. Say someone’s your hero, and you’ve really got to mean it. Say music is your passion, and it should be. Don’t pepper your sentences with these powerful words just for the heck of it.

I want my daughter to be just like Ella. Anything close, and I’d be a very happy mother. Not to play favorites or anything.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are playing with bugs: Catching lightning bugs late at night. Keeping praying mantises as pets. Making a sand- and dirt-layered terrarium for worms. Watching caterpillars transform into butterflies. Tormenting rolly-pollies. Coaxing ladybugs as they crawled over my fingers.

I spent over three hours at the DOL in Lynnwood yesterday, just to take the knowledge test. I finished it in 15 minutes. Oi. My score: 20/22. Whew! My drive test is scheduled for August 9, unless I can re-schedule it for something earlier. Finally. Finally, finally, finally.

You know, it’s important to me that you read my blogs. I’m thankful for it. It says something about you. I’m not sure exactly what it says, but I like it. Thank you!

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