(I wrote this over a year ago...thought I would share....it's silly. I never even finished it)

I am invisible. I have been invisible since my senior year of high school. I don't remember exactly when i realized I became invisible, but I know that I am now and that I'm pretty used to it. Since I am invisible, other people can not see me. I can see myself, and know what I look like, but if other's could see me, I would not look like I do to them. If I am sitting in a room full of people, and other's look my way, they see right through me and I snicker to myself because they do not know that I can see them and that I'm watching them. They think they are blending in with everyone around them but I watch them as they shift in their seat and hide how tired they are, or how much they wish they weren't on the outside. I see their loneliness. I see them. I see what they think other's can't. I know they have secrets. I know they have fears. I know they are not truly what their body is presenting to others. I know what they would look like if they were invisible. Though, if they really were invisible, I wouldn't be able to see them anymore. But if they were invisible, I know what they would look like. They would look like me.

Being invisible is fun. Nobody else can see me! I can do whatever I want! Well, maybe not everything. I can't just walk into 7-11 and pour myself a slurpee and walk out. How would one explain the slurpee pouring from the slurpee machine into a cup, a lid being placed on top, a straw being inserted into it, and the slurpee being sucked through the free standing straw and disappearing as it exited? It freaks out people. It's not like after trying to steal a slurpee and freaking people out you can easily explain the situation. Plus, I don't want to be arrested or anything. So, I don't get slurpees often. I get a craving at like 2 in the morning sometimes, but I think I'll pull through, plus i really should save the dollar. Well, it's just a dollar...but anyway...

I can make myself visible if I want. I just don't want to most of the time really. I don't like what other people see me as when I'm visible. It's as if I'm a different person or something. I don't really know what I look like to other people and that makes me uncomfortable since I don't know what I'm presenting as who I am. So, a lot of the time, I become invisible. It's not painful or anything. All I have to do is close my eyes and relax. I let my thoughts flow through my brain and I sometimes write them down in my journal. But most of the time, my thoughts flow through my brain, into my bloodstream, through my heart, into my lungs, and out of my body as i exhale. I become my thoughts. Then I open my eyes and look around. Bingo! I am invisible. I still see my hands and feet and the way my nose is like a blurry blob below my eye line, but I am not visible to other people. If I want to let other's see me, it's simple really, I just look at them, and let them see me. This only happens on a need-to-see-me basis though. Those who I think can handle seeing me, I let them see.

Sometimes I don't have a choice on who sees me or not. For example, I have to let my doctor see me so he knows how to treat me. There is also the circumstance that someone who has seen me, tells someone else about what I shared with them and then the one who has been let in is able to see me. I can't hide from that. Then I am visible to that person whether I like them or not. That is when being invisible sucks. When others know that I'm invisible, they are on the look out for me and it's embarrassing. When I am around them and I am visible, they stare at me, expecting me to become transparent and put on a show of my secret... jerks...all of them. Being invisible isn't something to be taken lightly! It has it's advantages, but it's an extremely serious situation that can become dangerous.

The ability to be invisible is not all it's cracked up to be sometimes. It is lonely at times. Well... it's lonely most of the time. When I'm invisible, the only person that can see me is me. It's like my body is my sanctuary and I spend time with myself to get to know me. When I am invisible, my thoughts ARE me and thoughts aren't always a good thing to exist as. I can't always control my thoughts. They take me scary places like death and hate. Being invisible means that suicide is often appealing because I'm so exclusive to who I show myself to that it doesn't seem worth it sometimes. Those people who see me, most of them love me dearly and help me fight scary thoughts, but usually, when I'm feeling thoughts like death and hate, I feel so vulnerable and insecure, I show myself to no one. Then I hate myself.

Wondering what I look like? Well, when I am solid and visible, I stand at 5 feet, 6 inches, I weigh approximately 170 lbs, some is muscle (like my heart and tounge and other vital stuff like leg muscle and biceps. Glutes. I definitely have them, plus some.), the rest is too many cookies and beer around my thighs and upper arms, belly and my glorious booty. I say approximately 170 pounds because my weight changes throughout the month. When I am invisible, I put on weight because I'm the only one who can see me and I am comfortable with looking at myself no matter what. So I eat whatever I want. It's not like I change bodies, or am a shape-shifter, although that would be cool to try. When I am visible though, I try to lose weight and eat less because I know that people can see me and wonder what happened to make me so heavy. Basically, I worry and care what others think about me. Anyway, I have shoulder-length deep brown hair. Today I made it kind of wavy, and since I've been visible almost all day, it's been fun. In my hair, I also have blonde highlights and some pinkish-red ones in the back that my hairdresser thought to put in. My eyes match the richness of my hair, brown also with tints of green in them. When i cry though, they really look green.

I used to cry a lot. I was invisible almost all the time then. I didn't show myself to anyone. Though usually when I cried, I was in a visible state because the circumstance I was in usually made me sad or irritable. I would cry with who ever i was visible with and then as soon as i composed myself i would retreat into my seclusion.

I peer over the top of my cubicle and survey the office. Heads bob as they pass through aisles and turn corners. Returning to my swivel chair, I pivot on my foot a few times and prop my elbow on my desk, tapping my fingers on the surface. My hands are clammy and my ears are tingling. I'm nervous. More like anxious really.

"He is supposed to be here!" I say to myself. "What's his deal?"

I am anticipating the arrival of my best friend Tommy. He apparently holds great news regarding the date I went on with his roommate last night.

I am reminiscing about the prior evening's events when suddenly, I hear my boss two cubicles down and I realize I don't have any work to show him. I assault my computer mouse to wake up the screen. It jumps to life as it's static sound welcomes my desktop. I stare ahead searching the depts of my brain, trying to remember what the heck I was supposed to be working on. Crap, crap, crap. The voice nears next door.

I drop my pen and bend down to retrieve it, desperate to remember what he wanted me to work on. I pause and realize that the familiar sounds of the office had returned: keyboards clicking, phones ringing, people chatting, and no boss. Did he leave?

"How's it going Lele?" A shadow casts over me. Oh crap.

"Oh! Hi there Mr. Blondell. Uhmm..Great! Thanks!"

"Finished the stuff I gave you to work on?

"Uhh...Well. To be honest...I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. See, I think I had a bad omelet this morning or something because I've been in the bathroom a lot today, not feeling well and all, and I just got back now and dropped my pencil and yeah...I can't remember." To be perfectly honest? Oh come on Lele! Liar.

Mr. Blondell stares at me blankly, then raises his eyebrow. He's quite handsome really. Just a tightass sometimes. Needs a good woman to loosen him up if you know what I mean. Unless he's gay...Then I guess he needs a good guy to....uhh...

He clears his throat as if hearing my thoughts. I cough and smile up at him.

"A bad omelet huh?"

"Well...uh yeah."

I am such an idiot.

"Finish typing up the final reports on the Campfur file. Then you need to call them and discuss what they want the next course of action to be."

I smile, feeling as dumb as the dumbest child of the dumbest creature on the dumbest planet. Or maybe I am the dumbest child of the dumbest creature on the dumb....Oh whatever.

"Thanks Mr. Blondell. I'll get right on it"

"Sure thing."

He turns and I sink in my chair. I rub my eyes and remember I actually put make up on this morning. When I commit to it, I dress up quite nicely and after such a great night last night, I felt it was appropriate to show the world what I've got. I pull my hands away and look at the black and purple makeup smudges on my fingers. Dang it. I look in my mirror and purse my lips as I discovered my destroyed face.

"Hope you feel better," he says returning to my cubicle. I jump and swivel to face him.

"Thanks," and smile at him. I watch as his head cocks to the side and his expression announces that there is something wrong with me. I remember my rubbed makeup eyes. I start to offer an explanation and he shakes his head and walks away. A strange feeling rolls in my stomach. Maybe I am sick after all.

My screen saver swirls at me broadcasting that I still haven't accomplished anything today. I assault the mouse again. Deciding I have to pee, I pivot to stand up and discover Tommy leaning against the entry way to my office.

"Hey there you sweet.....Holy crap whatappened to you?"

"Shh!!! Nothing!" He looks at me surprised by my snappiness. "Sorry. Hi. How are you. Good. Great....TELL ME EVERYTHING HE SAID!" I lunge out of my seat and grab Tommy's shirt.

"Holy crap. Like, Holy crap girl. Settle down. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. You're so considerate." He rolls his eyes. "Now fix yourself will you. You look like crap. Absolute crap." I giggle as I wipe away the rest of my makeup.




Forgive the lack of editing, I'm just trying to remember how to write.

From the first second we stepped into the mansion, we were engulfed by it's magnitude. Dominating an entire city block, the residence towered, it's cream marble, maroon trim, and light blue shutters welcoming yet discriminating as if to say, "are you worthy?".

"No. I am not worthy", I thought to myself as I stared two stories above me to a muraled dome. Naked angels and infants danced among clouds that seemed unrealistically high and I immediately wondered who created the work of art.

I looked over at Campbell, who I had just met on the ride over, and shared the same jaw dropped expression. We were the two lucky contest winners that got the opportunity to meet Ladia Sees, the famous artist and designer. Both hoping to break into the design field ourselves, this was a tremendous chance to get our big break. My portfolio suddenly felt like I was carrying several gallons of milk, heavy and perspirating. My hands always sweat when I'm nervous.

As we took in our surroundings, the marble foyer, the massive sitting room to our right, another sitting room to our left, a grandiose staircase floored with the same stone as the foyer, and gigantic windows everywhere, a tiny dog, (I can't tell the differences between them), ran up and started yipping at us. I stared at the creature wondering if he was welcoming me or telling me to back off. I decided he wasn't sure himself.

Our heads raised and followed the dog as he turned and trotted away. He reached the bottom of the immense staircase, barked twice, and sat down. No sooner than he was down, he jumped up with a yip and stared to the second floor. Our eyes followed and meeting us at the top of stairs was a person dressed in black with dark eyes and bright, red lips. Her pale skin glowed from it's surroundings. It was a like a full-figured Snow White, just with out the silly dress. She stretched out her hands as if beckoning us to absorb her world and see her as its cherry on top. I think she smiled at us.

I heard Campbell take a deep breath in. I was trying to not pass out myself. I had heard so much about Ladia and had spent so much time researching her, worshipping her, that to be facing her, meeting her, let alone be in the same building as her was making me nauseous. Campbell looked really pale, I think she was trying not to vomit. My hands were sweating and shaking so fiercely, I couldn't believe I had so little control over my bodily functions. I prayed I would be able to keep a grip on my bladder.

Ladia Sees had revolutionized the design industry and was a goddess in that realm. There was not a single designer, design student, design hobbyist, or design firm that didn't know of her, of her work, or want to be her. She soared down her stairs and as she approached us, her smile grew. Facing us, she reached out and grabbed hold of our hands.

"Welcome to my home ladies."

I've stopped watching the news.

It's too violent.

I can't believe much of what they say.

Here's the dilemma. I find interest in world events and local news. But really, I don't need to fill my day with news of a triple homicide or CNN news that makes every breaking story a matter of critical importance. I am sensitive to the fact that these things need to be told...But surely we've accomplished something in Iraq and surely Baltimore city's government has done something besides point fingers at each other.

Also, I don't want to live a sheltered, secluded life that ignores evil in the world. I want my son to grow up with a healthy balance of awareness. Now if only I could find that healthy balance.

We got rid of the TV actually. No, don't think that I'm some disciplined person trying to improve my life. The antenna doesn't work in our apartment and we only got three channels anyway, so spending money on cable, let alone a new antenna, isn't in the budget. So bye bye TV! It's a shame. I really got into Days of our Lives for a while there. I'm such a TV boob.

I think TV induced boobness does exist. I found out for myself after having my son. Nursing him all the time, it was so easy to turn on the TV to the Today show at 7am and watch all the way through the day until Law and Order SVU showed. I'm not kidding. I would watch TV all day. Naturally, my house was a mess and I would do nothing all day. I would justify watching by saying, "well at the next commercial" or "at the end of this show" I'll turn off the TV or get something done. But it would almost never work because I would become interested in the next show or see a commercial for a new cleaning product that I would never spend $12 on but think it was cool anyway. Therefore, based on the data presented, I conclude that the boob tube literally turns you into a boob. Thankfully I've recovered due to deprivation but who knows if we ever get a TV again. At least my apartment is clean and smells good. Boy is my husband thankful. (So am I).

Ok I have stuff to do. Please forgive the lack of editing.

So I went back and forth several times on whether to pursue this blog...

But here I am. Blogging. A blogger. Bloggage. Nice.

Plus, I love writing so why turn down any chance I get?

It's amazing to me how a 5 month old can find a paper pamphlet so fascinating. I mean, earlier today, he just went at this paper, chewing, tearing, mashing, and saturating this thing for like half an hour. What is it? Does the fact that it's not a plastic toy or stuffed animal that we BOUGHT for him have special appeal? This stack of paper stapled together, that we got for free, has held his attention longer than any other toy we have. Uh oh... the ink is running. Maybe I should intervene...

Ok BLANK paper is just as entertaining.

He is darn cute though.

Here's a thought. GUY MOVIES. I watched Stripes last night (Bill Murray from 1981) with my husband and thought it was the dumbest thing I ever saw.

"A lot of people like that movie, just so you know", my husband comments as I type, "you don't want to hurt anybody's feelings on your first blog."

Sorry to any one who loves Stripes. But really- it was dumb.

Ok, now onto subjects of importance.

Aaaand I have nothing. My brain is mush.