Honesty.

"I am colorblind. Coffee black and egg white. "

My ideal love song is Leather and Lace, by Stevie Nicks and Don Henley.

My primary love language is quality time - my second string is words of affirmation. This love tank is completely empty.

I long for the day when overalls make a comeback and are acceptable to wear in public again.

I live every day with the fear and the feeling that no-one in my life loves me. Especially during the past two weeks, I have felt to the very depth of my core, that I have been left behind by some of whom are most important to me. Even though I have no reason to feel this abandonment.

I love road trips.

I have ten fingers and ten toes.

I possess an invalid fear of the state of Utah.

I don't understand how to respect my body. On the days when I love it, I cheapen it by showcasing it provocatively, and I exploit it.

On the days when I hate it, I wish and will it so much harm, that sometimes I do indirectly end up hurting it.

Every morning I wake up a new person because of what Jesus Christ did for me by dying on the cross for my sins.

I know what it's like to love someone miles away and years apart from you.

Sometimes I wish that I knew how to play the drums.

I'm terrified of everything.

I don't trust people. Ever.

"I've got one hand in my pocket and the other one is.." ..... Not giving a high-five.

I eat my feelings.

I struggle with anxiety. Tonight I stopped breathing. I had forgotten how to.

I drive a Volvo wagon. People make fun of my car, sometimes. Sometime I think that car is the love of my life.

I would put money down on the fact that I firmly believe Julia Child loved the Rolling Stones.

In addition to bringing back overalls, I would love it if they brought back ruffled socks with lowtop converse. That look was legit.

I don't believe most of my closest friends read my blog. This makes me feel sad. Some of them do- and I'm thankful for those ones because that means they're the ones who understand my heart the most.

I feel loved when people eat my food.

I feel more loved when they look into my eyes, and they smile, and they tell me, "I love you because you are more of a Martha than you are a Mary."

I haven't heard that in a while.

I have strange abandonment issues- and I don't know where they came from because no-one in my life has ever actually abandoned me.

I am a youngest child.

When I was a little girl, I claimed to hate the color pink. But now I think it might be my favorite color.

I'm the most bitter person I've ever met- and I know a lot of bitter people.

I am forgiven.

I am heard- even when I don't feel like anyone is listening.

I've only been pulled over once, because my tail-light was out.

I feel incredible loss over the fact that I don't have a grandparent I can talk to. And the replacement grandparents just never seem to stick around for long.

I throw people away easily.

I really, really, really like taking pictures, and I'd love to take a photography class someday.

Country roads are my favorite.

Sometimes, most times, I speed.

I miss my friends, because they all seem to live far away from me- but more than anything, I miss them, missing me.

I am far from perfect.

I am blessed.

I am gifted.

This is who I am.

"Come on, try a little- nothing is forever, there's got to be something better than in the middle. Me and Cinderella put it all together- and we can drive it home with one headlight."