I've been reading through White Oleander, which I picked up at the library's book sale a few weeks ago. I keep finding hidden treasures in the books, like this square card from Panache Restaurant. There's a giant coffee stain on the back. I don't want to know where this restaurant is or how their food is. I just want to appreciate this little glimpse into someone else's life.

The previous owner also left a newspaper clipping of a jumble puzzle. My grandmother does the little jumble puzzles from the newspaper every morning. That makes me smile.

I like books presents almost as much as I like books.

You hear stories all the time of people who should have died from their internal bleeding, from their cancer, from their old age. They should have died, but they didn't. They held on for something—family, friends, kittens, true love (or to blave).

If I ran you over today with my Skirtsmobile en route to Elijah Wood's house, what would keep you alive? What would you be fighting to keep? Because the only thing I'm clinging to right now is hope. Hope that the grocery store will finally have Ben & Jerry's chocolate almond nougat ice cream back on the shelves this week.

Today was great. I stayed up until three o'clock in the morning reading a book and crying and talking online. I fell asleep between a pile of tissues and a pile of blankets. I woke up with swollen eyelids and still looked amazing. I lost two pounds by eating a pint of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream.

When I got to work, I printed off return address labels for my boss and then told her, "I'm going to work on the Women's Ministries bulletin board today." So I did. I spent the whole day picking out fonts and cutting out paper and arranging cute little graphics. I dedicated eight hours to a rather worthless project, and it felt great. My desk is littered with scraps of paper and scotch tape and colored staples. It looks like an elementary school craft project made love to a scrapbooking party in my office, and I couldn't be happier about it.

But when everyone is asleep and the house is quiet, I will pull out my book and my journal. I will read, I will cry, and I will choke out the lyrics to this song as I make a cocoon for myself with my bedding. And I will look and feel just as fierce tomorrow as I did today.