"Abandon Yourself to God."
I've been going to a noon meeting every day, a new meeting for me. Each day the meeting closes with the concluding passage of the Big Book, before the personal stories (not a typical tradition in my town).
These words struck me. I know I have to "let go and let God," get myself out of the way, surrender, "turn my will and my life over to God." I have to turn my fear over to God, "do the next indicated thing" and let God handle the outcomes. Faith=Belief+Trust+Action.
"Some of us tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely."
"We asked His protection and care with complete abandon."
Why is it so hard for me to do this? Why can't I let go absolutely, abandon myself to God's care, God's will, God's purpose? I want, more than anything, to let go. I want to live, I want to live in the light of God, to be an instrument of His peace.
Yet I am still tangled up in the hell I have designed and built for myself.
Please, God, show me your way!

Last night, I had one of those hot dreams I occasionally have involving one of The BF's friends ... this time it was Justin. We didn't even really do anything, but the sexual tension was palpable, teenybop giggles and everything.
Well, what can I say, there's something hot about each of The BF's friends. Maybe one of these days I'll make a list.
Tomorrow: Thanksgiving and post-Thanksgiving in review. Good night.

Head in the ass...
Ouaip … the head in Q, this morning … : S … Is necessary to say, am awaked to me with 4h chechmate’ … 4H08, exactly … and pi after, Ben have pô been able to send me to sleep again … awaited the train of following sleep, ever came, the idiot ! …

Good, C true, have qq worry which trottent me in the head in this moment, side job, thunes, zamours, studies, house plants, car, blue with the hip (thank you the attacks for BF with 2 against 1 !) … In the final analysis, has there that the iron ore which is well ! Ouf ! C already that … In short, of the blow, after having had patience one moment in my bed, to turn and turn over such un(e) poulet(te) to the spit-roaster, Ben I rose … after all, chui awaked, as much to raise, take my pti dèj, that to me will be made …

Therefore, towards 5h of the chechmate’, hop there ! tea, slices of bread, all that … the iron ore included/understood anything, it which sleeps still 2 good hours practice, but good, it did not balk to benefit from bargain to eat 2-3 pellets ! … After, Pb, at one hour similar, C that y has anything with the téloche : people who engueulent (thank you TF1), or of people who sing : Mozart on the 2, of the clips on M6 (thus 1 trick immonde which calls Gabriel, in an environment Gothic Mylène Farmer of mini-market, with one blondasse which cannot sing, in short, the height of the stew 2006!), and emission " is not wizard " on the 3, practice I find that super good, but there, was on the anaesthesias, C a little gore, with the alarm clock ….

To the end one moment, the train of the sleep finally spent, 15 minutes before the alarm clock sounds, of course, if not C not funny … thus conflict : ringing side, large tiredness of different, and iron ore which miaule, as every morning with 7h (is necessary that I learn him that have ALREADY alarm clock, that I regulate with hour which plait me, him !) … finished by me raising, for the 22nd times, but good, chui in a dirty state qd even ! ! ! Good, apuka to check the coffee stock for the day, and that of herb teas roupillantes for the next nights. Pfiou ! What a life !