the rose of kiev

[thanks to traci: I stole this line from your blog - I liked it too much to leave it where it was on yours *smiles*] the internet is a wonderful thing, the way you can stay connected to people without ever actually interacting with them. it's easier...but I guess it's sadder, too. I know what's happening to friends hundreds of miles away, but I'm not actually in their lives, truly, right now. I wish I were. reading some of my friends blogs today made me miss them so much . a couple of years ago, Tricia introduced me to Traci (affectionately, Jewel) online as a girl who'd been her best friend in Virginia, the place she had just moved from. A few months later, I got to meet Traci and then go to the Maryland Rennaissance Festival with her and Kelly, but Kelly isn't Kelly, she's Jans. Traci is Jewel online, but Traci is Traci in person. Kelly is Jans online; Kelly is Jans in person; Kelly is Jans to me. Down in Virginia, I'm no longer Heather - it's the ...

I doubt anyone has as cool a title for this blog entry as I do; and now that begs the question, what does your unconventional title about a diva and Turkish things have anything to do with writing one big paper about one little word? Well, let me clear up your confusion (I promise I'll eventually explain the title)... The word I chose to write about is 'dance', and I know alot of you are assuming right away, "Maybe Heather can dance." Ha. I laugh long and loud at that; the only dance training I have is a ballet class I took when I was three in my amazing little leotard and white tights covering my short chubby legs. The only dance experience I've had has all been crammed into my life recently - I went stag to homecoming at my little christian high school all 4 years, so I had to line dance all by myself. Then, all of a sudden this past spring, all my guy friends gave me a second glance, and I ended up being asked, and going to, three proms with a date for each...

there are days when I look at my blog and groan, thinking about the time it would take to sit down and write an entry, because I wouldn't write and post anything I didn't like or put myself into. and when I need an incentive to put something else up...I read the comments tagged onto the end of another long entry of mine, and remember there are people out there reading it and checking to see if I added something else. and the rush from that gets my creative juices going once more, remembering funny stories and thinking of the day's events, wondering if I can make it enjoyable for one of you guys to read. So, I've been assigned the task of cleaning my room. In other words, I pulled out my handy jackhammer and put on my trusty hard hat, just to be safe. I don't think you could understand - my room is a Teenage Junk Landfill. I wouldn't be surprised if I find something living under my dresser, once I finally work up the guts to reach my arm under there and I hope it...