high heels & home baked goods

I've been trying to compose the simplest of journal entries for weeks now.
Not too difficult a task, but there are so many little busy bees buzzing
around inside my head these days that I can't make out a single thought, let alone translate them into a charming little spiel. So instead I'll tell you a story. When I was about yay high I met a boy named Blakely. It was a short lived summer romance between two kids & I was too young to know why I'd blush every time he passed by my cottage. I don't remember anything about Blakely except that we bonded over my Donald Duck sings the classics cassette tape & that at the end of it all he said he adored me. I asked him what that word means & he said it means you like it so much you want to marry it. oh. Ever since then I've associated the word 'adore' with 'getting married'. I suppose this little memory has come to the forefront because in 3 weeks I will 'adore' someone right to the alter. & instead of bonding over Donald Duck tunes with my sweetie, it's a lil' record called 'Thumbelina's One Night Stand'. The music on the record consumed our thoughts for months. We sweated over every note & word & pulled what we feel is the very best out of the stories & music. That pint sized floozy is out on the loose even as I write this, so run to your nearest record store & find out what the heck I'm blabbing on about. I swear, I 'adore' this record so much, I'd bake cookies in heels for it all day. I hope it has the same affect on you.