Missoula, Montana bucket list

Be a great nanny

Go ice fishing

Learn to ski

Go on a sleigh ride

Get a bike, and ride it


Run sled dogs

Join the equestrian team

Shop at farmer’s markets

Take dance lessons

Buy a nice car

Go to Pet Fest

Spend Sunday mornings in a coffee shop

Go to the hot springs

Learn to ice skate

Seeley Lake Winterfest

Hang out in the breweries on the weekends

Try fly fishing

Spoil the dogs

Learn to skijor

Take cooking classes

Concerts and live music

Check out the wineries

Get a library card

Weekly date night at a new restaurant

Go to the theaters

Try Out To Lunch and Downtown Tonight at the park

Climb the big hill regularly

Go to a haunted house

Join a CSA

Pick fruit at orchards

Buy local meat

First Friday

“So many gods, so many creeds;
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.”

She’s all laid up in bed with a broken heart,
while I’m drinking jack all alone in my local bar.
And we don’t know how,
how we got into this mad situation,
only doing things out of frustration.

Trying to make it work but man these times are hard.

She needs me now but I can’t seem to find the time.
I’ve got a new job now on the unemployment line.
And we don’t know how,
how we got into this mess
Is it a God’s test?
Someone help us ‘cause we’re doing our best.



“In 1921, early suffragettes often donned a bathing suit and ate pizza in large groups to annoy men…it was a custom at the time.”


(via positivelypersistentteach)

“Suicide happens when the pain you are in is greater than the pain you are able to bear. Sometimes, that spike in pain is temporary, and you can recover from it if you can tough it out. But when you see a lifetime ahead of you of toughing out that kind of pain… sometimes you just don’t feel like you have the energy, or that it’s even worth it. You just want to be at peace.”

he tells me the past is the past, it’s all behind us. I want to tell him we carry graveyards inside of us, and the ghosts can conjure feelings of inadequacy at their leisure and without our permission.

he tells me to be happy to be alive. I want to tell him there are things far worse than death.

I want to be an open book for someone who will press their face to the pages, trace the words with their fingers, will not leave me forgotten on a shelf. I want my binding to be worn, my words to be so well known they are almost memorized. I want my smell to invoke comfort, to demand to be read again and again.

I want to be held in someone’s hands, and be loved for every misspelling, every dogeared page, every tear, every sentence that doesn’t quite flow.

“I used to imagine adventures for myself, I invented a life, so that I could at least exist somehow.”