Bursts of me rearranged into a somewhat legible fashion for you

For those of you who have just stumbled upon this blog: "Hi."
Who am I? I am Gloria, a semi mature, workaholic, bad spelling, religious, picky, comitment shy female. If you were to meet me in person, you would soon deduce that much of my daily conversation may be easily filed under useless babble, but this does not bother me. I find it better to spout whats on my mind rather than hold it in, allowing the thoughts to disolve into nothing before ever giving them the chance to breath their ideas. I don't think the world will be any worse off having to listen to my prattle for a few moments more than it is accustomed to. It has survbived my first twenty four years I figure it can make it through my next fifty-five if it invests in ear muffs.
What am I? I am a want to be artist. Real life fascinates me to watch and capturing pieces of it and bringing it home lures me to the pad even more. Pens and pencils are my weapon in this world. Whether through relistic or modernized picasso type attempts....they all make me happy and provide a great escape for emotions. Nothing like trapping a feeling onto a page where it has the potential to remain for centuries after I am gone.
Currently I am writing a book, one which I like to imagine will capture the hearts off all readers and find itsway into the instant classics section at any overly visited bookstore filled with overpriced muffins and burnt coffee, lets hope it pans out. The reason for the book is actually a very selfish design. I plan to use writing as a way to fund my world travels and to keep my knees from ever having to be trapped beneath a dull wooden desk with splinters and my very own ten year old mac pc computer.
If of course the book falls through I have already begun spinning my second web of dangerously built up hopes. I am applying to, not litterally but not far from, every music school in the world. *crossed fingers* so here's hoping. Though I wouldn't be attending for any instrumental talent I am afraid. I am only a singer, but I have to say singing makes me happier than anything else in the world...the one draw back: terrifying, petrifying, knee knocking stage fright....now you see why I am trying with the book idea first.
My fear of commitment I mentioned earlier stems from the general fear of being caught like a fish in a net to some man who will instantly steal my identity, unwittingly of course and I am sure with the most love possible, and I am just afraid once it is gone it may never be able to be reclaimed. I love kids and I love men and I even love the idea of a sweet little cottage home somewhere inbetween the worlds of hicks and city slickers, but not yet.....not for a while. I am not ready to be wife, mama, grandma, old lady in the wheel chair who needs her meds for all the mental damage of earlier family years just yet.
Let me live first, then after I have lived I will begin what is defined as life and serve my time as well as any other.
I am a dreamer, clearly from the paragraphs above ;), but even I am aware that the problem with dreamers is that the real world becomes the shadow and the imaginary the possible reality. How can someone be happy with what they have when they are always longing for something even more extravagant for themselves. Which brings to life the question; can they ever truly be happy. I can't answer it from experiance, but I like to think so. The cure: come down out of the rainbow clouds; the reality of that statement: easier said then done.