I've killed mice before. I've layed traps out, but my daddy, brother or braver sister would always take them out to the trash.

I put a sticky mouce trap out earlier tonight. I caught the baby mouse while I was typing on my labtop. I felt bad. I feel bad. The baby mouse has been squeeking since it got trapped. I feel like a murderer. I hate mice in our home, but I hate even more the idea of torturing this animal, rodent, what have you.

I looked up advice on the internet to help peel safely the mouse from the sticky glue but nothing will work according to the research. The glue is there to trap and kill.

The mouse I caught is trying tiredlessly to free itself from the glue. I pulled it up close to me to see if I could get it free but it's tiny feet are stuck. I could see its tiny heart beat.

I kinda feel like an animal murderer even though it's this rodent that my family has been trying to catch.

Next time I'll remember to NOT get the sticky glues. The little mice get tortured for hours if stuck in a trap. Ugh...I can still here it peep!

I'm back with fire

The last time that I posted to this blog was over a year ago. I'm sure no one has missed me. Especially the rude person who told me that I'm a whiny bitch in their anonymous comments. Whatever. I'm me. If you don't like me, don't read me or my stories.

Many events have happened since my last post in January. I am no longer with "le petit escargot" and living in a long-distance relationship. I'm actually very happy. In Hawaii. With my family. With my friends. Single and 26. And where I belong. For right now.

I have learned the past year and a half that it doesn't matter if you're in a foreign country or living life in your home state, most of the time everyone is half a dictionary short of fluent...of anything. We're all half fluent about the men/women we date, the jobs we take and the families we try to make. Language has always been a love of mine and the past year and a half since my father died, I've noticed that language isn't just about the letters or sounds you put together to communicate something to another person, it's also about the unique language that you live your life by - the syntax of specific moments that pull it together and create our futures, our stories, in our own tongue.

That is why I decided to kick this blog back into gear. I find myself half a dictionary short of where I want to be all the time, and those moments will make for great stories and poetry.