There are a lot of things I do that my mom doesn't need to hear about.

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In Knoxville. All is not well.

Expect big changes, one and all...

1. I do not like anything that is made with coffee. Yes, I've tried that. That, too. No, I don't like it. Quit trying.
2. Hot chocolate and cider are better anyway.
3. I like hot weather.
4. I absolutely suck at being mean to people. I can have these great ideas for awful things to do to people, but my free-floating Southern Baptist guilt usually prevents them from getting off the ground. On the occasion that I do carry my plans off, I feel really bad about it later, even if whoever I was mean to deserved it.
5. This is why I usually have others do my evil bidding. Somehow, I feel less guilty about that.
6. The first word that ever came out of my mouth was in a sarcastic tone. (I was a moody six-month-old, apparently.)
7. Green is my favorite color.
8. I'm not good at staying mad at people or holding grudges. At all.
9. I am capable of carrying on conversations when I am passed out asleep. The only thing that gives me away are the weird things I say, like "A fingertip is pointy, but not as pointy as the tip of a jellyfish's tentacle" (I really said that to a guy after I'd fallen asleep while talking to him. Whoops). I usually have no recollection of them whatsoever the next day, and people often take advantage of when I am sleep deprived to pump me for information.
10. The first entry in my baby book: "Lauren has her mommy's temper." In other words: volatile from Day 1.
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"As I Walked Out One Evening"

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.

'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

-Auden