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lyricqueen18
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Name: Grace
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Los Angeles
Birthday: 10/10/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: I am interested in Nick. I am also interested in being his wife, making cookies for him, making him smile, watching random TV shows with him, drinking Arizona's with him, enjoying his company, treasuring him with all my heart, and caring about him always and forever. I am interested in Jesus and modeling my life, my marriage, my family, and my home after His example. I am also interested in Paris, vintage things, shopping, dressing up, writing poetry and prose, long walks in the moonlight, counting days, musicals, old school Disney movies, Pride and Prejudice, fashion, coffee, Java and Jazz, my friends, my family, and I am very interested in starting a new family with Nick. I am intrigued by words, music, art, and old-fashioned, unusual and unique things. My goal is to be the coolest soccer mom on the planet. Or maybe basketball mom. Or maybe ballet mom. Or maybe violinist mom. Or maybe all of the above.
Expertise: I am an expert in Nick-ology. I am also enrolling in classes to become an expert in these categories: being Nick's wife; taking care of a home; understanding people better; knowing what to say, when to say it and when to shut up; balancing my life; organizing my life; planning weddings and honeymoons; adoring Nick like he deserves to be adored; building a life together with the most amazing man on the planet; the city of Santa Monica; sticking to a budget; Java and Jazz; getting involved in a new local church; entertaining people at my house; buying inexpensive things that are still cool; cheap entertainment; and loving, honoring, respecting, cherishing, adoring, and submitting to one man for the rest of my life.
Occupation: Legal addictive stimulants
Industry: Java and Jazz
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  lyricqueen18
MSN: lyricqueen18@hotmail.com
Yahoo:  ihavefaithnchrist
Member Since:
5/19/2004
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| Home for the Holidays:
Thoughts about being in Texas for Christmas, in no particular order.
Meeting my sissy at the airport wearing incredibly similar outfits, though we haven't seen each other in a year and a half.
Californians have no idea what real Mexican food is.
I miss the Style Network.
Alley photo shoots. Pretty graffiti, it matches my outfit...
Movies with my mommy. Enough said.
Aunt, uncle, cousin, adopted cousin, adopted brothers, adopted sisters, adopted niece and nephews.
Being able to see the stars.
Seeing people supporting their Spurs. :)
Hugs.
Fresh prince.
Egg nog.
Making fun of reality TV.
Country music. Everywhere.
Chocolate.
Love. | | |
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I have two new babies! They are both girls, and their names are Cookies and Cream. :)
They have a brand new house, and I like to refer to it as Rat-topia. Templeton is quite jealous because these two spoiled little girls have four stories of play-room in their new cage. But their favorite thing to do is try to run on their wheel at the same time. It's quite adorable.
Cream is pretty docile, but Cookies is an adventurous little bugger. Last night, shortly after bringing them home and setting up their new house, we took them out to play with us on the couch. Cream was a little angel baby, but Cookies somehow got herself stuck down in the back of the couch, and we had to turn the couch over and cut a slit in the bottom so we could try to coax her out. She was having a good old time in there, though, and didn't want to come out. So after about a half hour of trying to grab her (she's a slippery little devil) I finally caught her, ignoring her peeping, pulled her out.
Poor Cookies had a long, action-packed evening, and went to sleep almost as soon as I put her back in her cage. :)
And now I have a protective sheet on my couch so that can't happen again. :) | | |
| The color of his eyes
The color of wet cardboard
And the color of the mud his cardboard shelter sits in.
The color of shit
The color of a torn up sleeping bag
And the color of the dirt on his hands and face.
The color of tobacco
The color of a weak cup of coffee
And the color of his wild, matted mess of hair.
The color of struggle
The color of bitter apathy
And the color of a lonely, wasted life.
The people passing by him try to live their lives
In yes or no, in right or wrong, in black or white
But he is stuck inside his shades of brown. | | |
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