No Known Cure.

...Ladies.... Gentle-Germs.... ...Stalkers... Loyal Fans.... First Time Readers....

I am suffering from something, and there is no known cure... It's called "Build a Clock Syndrome" Or BACS as it's used in the medical world.

I was first diagnosed with it at the tender age of 13. By my Grandmother. Although, I'm sure I showed signs much before then.

Here's what it is.

It starts with a thought, an idea if you will, and before you know it, it's been 15 minutes, in some cases... longer.

Need more explanation?

alright. People who suffer from BACS (Build a Clock Syndrome) Suffer from nothing more than a nasty habit.

Ask me "What time is it?" And I'll tell you how to build a clock.

I Basically just really like to tell stories. And... I feel like you need the WHOLE story.

Need Examples? ...Read my blog... Or talk to me for an hour.

Hats.

I have this hat... It's a hat from the late 80's.

It was my grandfathers. . .

Till one day when I was a Jr. in high schoo

l I decided it would be a good idea to bleach my own hair.

Needless to say that didn't turn out well.

Not only did it turn out that my hair looked awful...

that night in a frantic desperate hunt I realized something awful:

I, Hillary Ivie, did not own a single hat.

While it's true, I owned some of the greatest Bennie's you could possibly think of,

I didn't own a single normal hat.

I had never had a bad hair day to the point I needed to cover it up with something.

Let alone a logo'd, off color'd, brimed, thing that made my head hot.

But I needed one that day.

So.

My grandpa gave me one of his old ones.

And to sum up this (back round) story, I love this hat.

I now also own three other hats.

Alright.

ONTO WHY I'M WRITING

A few nights ago I was watching a movie and laughing much harder whenever one character spoke, compared to the others.

Why was that, I wondered.

Why was this character so much funnier,

than the other characters who were cracking just as many jokes.

Then I realized...

he was wearing a hat.

And how not only was HE wearing a hat...

But some of my most favorite characters...

wear hats...

fantastic hats at that.

Even Villains need a good hat

So other than the villain thing, I'm pretty sure due to my exposure of needing a hat to hide a desperately horrid hair do, and how hilarious I thought that situation was in the moment... I believe I'm conditioned to think that:

Hats=Slightly funnier than everyone else.

Because I mean really... if they got so desperate to the point of wearing THAT HAT.... think about how bad what is under that hat is...

That Does Sound Fantastic... and Weird

Last night was the BEST night I've had in an incredibly long time.

It started out terribly.

Here's how my May 27th went.

Work isn't important to this story.

Came home from work around 3:45 pm.

Tried to take a nap.

The neighbor kids were SCREAMING.

Couldn't sleep.

Lied there annoyed beyond belief.

Finally got up.

Ate a half can of peas.

Got excited for summer...

... fresh peas from the garden.

Ended up at the gym.

Ran for an hour.

Then did weights for an hour.

All while watching 16 and Pregnant.

While walking home from the gym,

Made a phone call.

While on the phone, became overly

Frustrated... Annoyed... Scared... Fed-up... Over Whelmed.

Bailed on my original plans. Sorry.

Sat on my bed Looked in the mirror and stressed about life altering choices.

Then... I decided to have a me night. Not a night of self-indulgence.

But simply a night to calm down.

So me nights actually take alot thought

And... have very strict rules.

(Here is where my night becomes good)

Rule #1 You have to feel pretty. For me this is always Freshly washed face Freshly brushed teeth Well nourished hair and.... cute underwear.

In order to accomplish this... I spend an hour and a half soaking

Not just any kind of bath...

All Lights off.

These instead.

Rule #2 Music Must be Played.

Not just any music though. The Apple Ipod Shuffle option... Is not an option.

Create a playlist.

Fit the mood exactly.

Delicate: Damien Rice

Cold Water: Damien Rice

Accidental Babies: Damien Rice

Wild Horses: Natasha Bedingfield

Amie: Damien Rice

Miserable At Best: Mayday Parade

The Conversation: Motion City Soundtrack

Just Another Old Love Song: Joe Purdy

Pigeon: Jump Little Children

Grey Room: Damien Rice

Don't Call Me Peanut: Bayside

Lullaby: Billy Joel

Little Black Heart: The Early November

Fire and Rain: James Taylor

More Than We Could Chew: Joel Pack

Burn: Ray Lamontagne

Jolene: Ray Lamontagne

Rule #3 Surround with Favorites.

Used favorite shampoo.

Used favorite tooth paste.

Wore favorite sweat pants.

and... underwear

Went to favorite convenient store (7-Eleven)

bought favorite treats:

&

Rule #4 Sleep

Sleep Like you do at the end of yoga.

Breathing.

Eye lids s.l.o.w.l.y. getting heavier.

Rule #5 Think. Constantly.

This... Will be it's own post.

Later.

Instrumental.

I'm not a normal person, and so this is all very fitting.

Music is one of the MOST important things in my life.

It's what I spend most of my "extra" money on, It's how I relate to most other humans,

It's the one thing I honestly feel I could NEVER live without.

This past week I was thinking about it,

about how much I love music,

how much power it has over me. While all types of music get to me-

There are a few instruments that seem to...

tug at my heart strings a little harder than others,

Instruments that as soon as I hear them in a song,

I almost instantly like the song...

to SOME degree.

Here they are... in order:

THE ACCORDION THE BANJO

THE ACOUSTIC GUITAR THE SOLO PIANO THE "OPENING "CHELLO

There are so many more that aren't being mentioned. Like the harmonica in a song that has a deep throated blues singer. Or the Marimba that puts a positive spin on anything. Or the Violin, which can accompany anyone, in any style of music, and create any kind of mood. Anyway(s), Those... are my top five favorite instraments. Hope you enjoy!

Quiet.

I've always kind of been a mouthy-sassy-little-spit-fire, with strong opinions and a lot to say about EVERYTHING. I had the words to sooth a friend in distress, I had the words to win any argument, and the words to fill any silence.

Basically... talking has never been a problem for me.

.... Until now...

For the past (almost) 10 months I've had people describe me as contemplative, thoughtful, and even quiet. I've lost friends because quite honestly... we have nothing to talk about. And I'm losing "new" people because... we just have nothing to say. I feel like I'm losing my ability to communicate.

No... not even that. Because when I have something to say... I can still say it. I have just lost my desire to say things.

When I lost my Mom, so many people had so many things to say, and while every one's intentions were wonderful, sweet, and good, I finally realized how little words meant. How many words I heard a day and how hardly any of them brought any sort of comfort. How I got so tired of hearing how I should grieve, but how I couldn't get enough of the few who would listen to how I was/am grieving.

So I guess I've become a listener. Which feels weird and out of place for me. But that's how I've been acting, and how I feel most comfortable.

I've also gotten into soaking up the silence. . . (which I don't think most people like, and take as a bad sign for friendships, like we've run out of things to say). For example(s):

My Grandfather, as most of you know, is a huge part of my life and I love and adore him to pieces. My absolute FAVORITE thing to do lately is sit on the couch next to him, hold his hand, and lay my head on his shoulder. . . saying absolutely NOTHING. We can sit there for 10, 15, 25 minutes without saying a word. . . and I couldn't be happier. My Grandmother... same thing basically. I could just stand there and hug her for hours if she'd let me. I love wrapping my arms around her neck and resting my chin on my shoulder.

So I don't know what to do really. While I feel like I'm losing all these people because I have nothing to say, and I'm just not that interesting anymore, I'm quiet because I'm soaking up every second I can. Because words mean so little (outside of kind, heartfelt, thoughtful reminders of love). And lets be honest here... I don't have a whole lot on my mind anymore outside of about 5 things.

I guess... More to come on this later?

(I also don't talk, email, write, or blog as much as I used to because most thoughts feel so.... unfinished. resolution.... non-existent right now)

is it?

While looking at this picture- let me just state, these are all great women. Having stated that- I want to talk about one of them specifically.

She's the African Princess in the green shirt and black and white skirt.

Her name is Mpumi.

She's fantastic.

And... she may just kill me for writing about her on here.

I met her on fast sunday in september of 2008. I had a terrible case of tonsilitus and had completely lost my voice. She walked up to me and said "How's it?" to which I blankly stared at her. I smiled nervously and said with a raspy horse voice "what?" She laughed and said "It means, How are you?"

Thats the most basic form of the story. The most realistic on actual event. But as I've learned in school this past semester, absolute occurance is irrelavent. So while I tell you we met on my first sunday half way across the world from where I grew up, I should probably tell you we met while standing in the middle of the freeway facing on coming traffic. I was looking around nervously, knowing how out of place I was, but tried to hold my shoulders back to seem as if I blend. Then, as soon as I became comfortable, or at least used to, the cars racing by me only to slow down and gawk at the little girl standing on the freeway, Mpumi walked out onto the freeway, stood next to me, and said "well... hi there."

There are conections in life that are so rare, the english language holds no words to describe the feeling of them, let alone the action of them. How I feel about Mpumi is one of those. I was in South Africa for barely under 4 months. 4 of the most glorious, hardest, and spiritual months of my life, and Mpumi was by me through-out the entire journey. With only a few month friendship I'm sure you wonder, how close can you really get?

Once again... sometimes there just are no words.

She's incredibly strong, amazingly forgiving, remarkibly understanding, and beautifully compassionate.

When my mother past away, one of the things I struggled with was- Mom never met Mpumi... here... on earth. That is actually something I struggle with with a lot of people in my life, that they haven't met her.

This post is being written out of guilt. She's the best friend I've ever had, and possibly will ever have, and I have no idea if she's even dating anyone. While I hope that everyone has someone in their life that resembles our friendship, I hope that everyone is better at maintaining and perserving this gift.

Wether it was a gift, a blessing, a tender mercy, or freak lining up of the stars, This African Princess has been my inexplicible best friend. I hope you have one too, and more importantly I hope they know it.

Someday- My Prince Will Come.

I was recently asked who my favorite Prince Charming was. This person was, what seemed to be, surprised, shocked even, when I replied "I don't know." I didn't know. I sat there and racked my brain, thinking of every Prince. The Prince (Snow White), Prince Eric (Ariel), Prince Charming (Cinderella), Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty), Prince Adam (Beauty and the Beast...... yes I looked up his name....), and Prince Ali (Fabulous is he, Ali Ababwa (Aladdin)). I thought about each one, who they were, how they were with their princess, the works. And sadly, I didn't want any one of them as MY prince. I didn't want my Prince to think everything was fixed with a kiss, that it was ok to fall in love with someone else (even when under "a spell"), that he could kiss me after our first dance (where we hardly even talked). I don't want someone who loves me (or doesn't) because their parents say, with such a bad temper, or someone with such a bad habit of lying.

A few days later I made a phone call and informed my friend with my choice....

This... Is Phoebus.

He's the Knight In Shinning Amour from Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Why would I pick him over a Prince? Over instant wealth, fabulous clothing, and zero facial hair (which we all know, while kissing it irritates the skin). Why would I pick this... average guy? Here are just a few bullet points.

- He pursued her.

-Fantastic sense of Humility

-Willing to go against something he'd worked so hard for, to be apart of good.

-Even in crummy situations, he talks it out.

-Allows her (his princess) to take care of him.

-Pretty silly at times

-And... Lets be honest... I've got a thing for light hair and scruff.

My reasons for wanting him are actually much deeper than what I'm posting. But to it's most basic form, he's her friend. He doesn't hold her higher than him, he also doesn't look down on her. He see's the good in her, hears her out, and discusses ideas with her. He also just has a good heart. Which would be really hard in his position... or maybe not hard, just easier to ignore I suppose.

Also... I kinda have a thing for this guy:

This is Tarzan.

But I mean really...

Who doesn't love a guy who

-Speaks another language

-Has such a strong love for his family

-Is that determined

-Combs the hair out of your face

-Can't help but stare into your eyes

-... Has those nice of pecs...

Like with Phoebus, my reasons for wanting this Jungle man are much more complex than what I'm sharing over the world wide web. But, here is my biggest reason for wanting this hairless ape: their (Tarzan and Jane's) desire to learn from each other, and to teach each other. They were both content in their worlds. Both understood their own worlds. Yet, they yearned for each other's knowledge. They were both smart enough to teach the other, and humble enough to learn from one another. Through their friendship, and willingness to let each other into their lives, they fell in love.

So there you have it my friends and Internet stalkers. I'm looking for a Knight in Shinning Armour, who may have originated from a jungle in Africa. Or... more simply put... the man I've said I've been looking for for a while now... My Best Friend, Who I Just Happen to Wanna Make Out With.