Infinite-simal thoughts =P

Visitation will be held at Hardage-Giddens Rivermead Funeral Home, 127 Blanding Blvd., Orange Park, FL from 4-7 pm on Sunday, June 21, 2009.

A Funeral Mass will be held on Monday morning, 10 am, Sacred Heart Catholic Church, 7190 Highway 17 South, Fleming Island FL

Burial at Jacksonville National Cemetery, 4083 Lannie Road, Jacksonville, FL.

In lieu of flowers, expressions of sympathy made be made to the American Cancer Society in her name- Susan Barrett Elliott

Current Mood: blank

So I thought I'd go ahead and post it, for those of you on here that I don't talk to.

My mom passed away today at 9:54pm EST. She fought hard to keep going, but she got pneumonia, and her lung cancer had already killed her lungs.

She was a wonderful mother (I hated her, she did her job brilliantly), and when we got along she was the best friend I ever had.

She was with the man she loved for 27 years (25 married), and they had 2 children.

Susan Elliott, I love you, and will miss you.

I am tired of being sick.

I want to go back to work.

I don't want to have surgery.

And I hate cats. :(

HumanForSale.com - Free Quizzes

CadaverForSale.com - How much is your cadaver worth?

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

well, fuck. I officially asked out the guy I liked... and he said yes.

Dear, sweet baby Jesus.

I have a date.

Asylum for the verbally insane.

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet,
and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
yet hat in the plu ral would never be hose,
and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
but though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim.

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine
in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England. We take
English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that
quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is
neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't
groce and hammers don't ham? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make
amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get
rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats
vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the
folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship. We have noses that run and
feet that smell. And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the
same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your
house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by
filling it out, and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

So if Father is Pop, how come Mother isn't Mop

And that is just the beginning - even though this is the end.

From Bard's journal- and oh, how I agree. The YouTube video is an amv- the song is "Still believe in Love"

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" Romance
I have known for all my life that true romance is dead. Like every other fine art, it faded from reality. Does the average man ever think about romance? Does his heart throb harder when he imagines the smile of the woman he admires when he hands her a single flower, picked by whim from a grassy field? Does he ever just admire his woman's beauty? Not taking it to a sexual level? Does he ever imagine his woman trying to be romantic for him? Perhaps waiting for him outside of work or a class, holding a basket full of delicious food for a surprise picnic?

Nowadays, it doesn't take romance to lead to sex. Sex comes easy, with the motion of a hand of the glint of an eye. Women fall to their backs and men to their knees, sometimes without knowing each other's name. Courting, along with romance, has long died away. There are fakes out there, women who pretend that they need to be courted to sleep with a man. But in the end, when they feel they have toyed with that poor man long enough, they'll open their arms and legs to him with playful hate.

People aing about love. But do those people practice what they preach? It's hard to believe that they do, since casual sex is so easy and welcoming, the urges of the body out weighing the urges of the heart. And people make those movies where people really fall in love, trials and turmoils bringing them together into an unbreakable bond. Those scenarios don't exist. No one falls in love with you if you suffer, they don't feel any empathy towards you. Most people laugh at you or secretly are happy that something like that never happened to them. Why can't people care about each other?

It's always the beautiful woman that is included in romance. Their curvy bodies, perfect breasts, and voice like melted chocolate are the human ideal of love. True love sees through the body into the soul. Does that mean it doesn't exist anymore, either? The same goes for the male. The ideal man is tall, strong, blistering eyes full of passion and soothing, flattering words. These ideals never fall for each other, the perfect one is always with a lesser man or woman, as if to balance out the worth.

Every man or woman looks for this ideal. Doing so, they have lost sight of the true meaning of love over time. The ideal mutated from a romantic notion to a sexual one, and love was lost in the transformation process.

I grew up with idea of romance in my heart. In the early stages of my life, 8 or 9, I dreamed of a man who would sweep me off my young feet, carrying me away into the future. This man was faceless, bodyless, and colorless. But he had a soul, he had a voice, and he had a heart. He wanted to rescue me and he loved me for my soul too. As I grew older, the faceless man formed into a real man. He still had no face, but he solidified into flesh. I dreamed of his tried at romance. Just simple gestures like taking my chin gently into his hand and tilting my face up to look him in the eye, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pressing his lips to my ear and whispering, "I missed you", or calling me before I went to school to tell me to have a good day.

As I entered into teenagedom, this romantic notion started to become human. He sprouted a face, body structure, emotions and personality, but most of all, he had a name. With the development of a body, he became a sexual ideal and I realized that I was doing what every other human does. I started losing out to my bodily urges, ignoring the yearning for romance in my soul. I started to associate the two things. And while in some way they are linked, you don't need one to have the other.

As I am now, I finally separated the two things. Sex and romance are on two completely different levels. It takes a great deal of work to make sex as important as romance now. I know I could live without sex for the rest of my life, as long as I had someone to rock me to sleep. I thrive off the idea that someday romance will fall onto my lap, making me feel like a whole person again. And when the opportunity to be romantic comes my way, i take it. In the end, I just get hurt beause romance is dead to everyone I meet. Since I am not the ideal woman, being romantic with me isn't a natural thought.

For now, and maybe for the rest of my days, I'll chase the farfetched dream of reaching that sort of emotional level with anyone. I don't care about sex so much as others. My body calls for it, but now I just ignore that call. If the person i fall in love with wants it, i'll give it to them. But I would never sacrifice romance for sex.

With all this I bring you to the end and ask you this; please try to revive romance in yourselves. Don't let it die. It survives in very few people, but as long as we keep it alive then perhaps someday it can thrive again. There is no greater feeling or gesture in the world than love. If romance truly dies, the no one can ever reach true love again. "

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Current Music: "Still Believe in Love"