I'm.excited Quotes

Look, don’t get me wrong. I worship the ground this guy walks on. I’m excited to meet him tonight. I’m dying to meet him tonight. If he wanted to carry me off and make me his love slave, I’d do it, so long as I got advance copies of his books.

Please, Eve, these public displays of affection must stop. I have a reputation.” “Keep it up, ace, and I’ll give you a public display of affection that’ll have you limping for a week.” “Now I'm excited.

Walks are never as good during the day. At night, when everyone's apartments are lit up and you can see inside, that's where the action is. Everything about this fascinates me. Windows, lampposts, building facades. Looking into other people's lives. The way it all comes together, this entity greater than the sum of its parts. I feel inspired. I'm excited about my future life.

I’m excited about the aging process. I’m more interested in women who aren’t perfect. They’re more compelling

I'm standing here, holding a half a lemon in my hand. I'm speechless, I'm excited . . . I'm a wreck. Caleb wants to be where I am.

When people dis fantasy—mainstream readers and SF readers alike—they are almost always talking about one sub-genre of fantastic literature. They are talking about Tolkien, and Tolkien's innumerable heirs. Call it 'epic', or 'high', or 'genre' fantasy, this is what fantasy has come to mean. Which is misleading as well as unfortunate. Tolkien is the wen on the arse of fantasy literature. His oeuvre is massive and contagious—you can't ignore it, so don't even try. The best you can do is consciously try to lance the boil. And there's a lot to dislike—his cod-Wagnerian pomposity, his boys-own-adventure glorying in war, his small-minded and reactionary love for hierarchical status-quos, his belief in absolute morality that blurs moral and political complexity. Tolkien's clichés—elves 'n' dwarfs 'n' magic rings—have spread like viruses. He wrote that the function of fantasy was 'consolation', thereby making it an article of policy that a fantasy writer should mollycoddle the reader. That is a revolting idea, and one, thankfully, that plenty of fantasists have ignored. From the Surrealists through the pulps—via Mervyn Peake and Mikhael Bulgakov and Stefan Grabiński and Bruno Schulz and Michael Moorcock and M. John Harrison and I could go on—the best writers have used the fantastic aesthetic precisely to challenge, to alienate, to subvert and undermine expectations. Of course I'm not saying that any fan of Tolkien is no friend of mine—that would cut my social circle considerably. Nor would I claim that it's impossible to write a good fantasy book with elves and dwarfs in it—Michael Swanwick's superb Iron Dragon's Daughter gives the lie to that. But given that the pleasure of fantasy is supposed to be in its limitless creativity, why not try to come up with some different themes, as well as unconventional monsters? Why not use fantasy to challenge social and aesthetic lies? Thankfully, the alternative tradition of fantasy has never died. And it's getting stronger. Chris Wooding, Michael Swanwick, Mary Gentle, Paul di Filippo, Jeff VanderMeer, and many others, are all producing works based on fantasy's radicalism. Where traditional fantasy has been rural and bucolic, this is often urban, and frequently brutal. Characters are more than cardboard cutouts, and they're not defined by race or sex. Things are gritty and tricky, just as in real life. This is fantasy not as comfort-food, but as challenge. The critic Gabe Chouinard has said that we're entering a new period, a renaissance in the creative radicalism of fantasy that hasn't been seen since the New Wave of the sixties and seventies, and in echo of which he has christened the Next Wave. I don't know if he's right, but I'm excited. This is a radical literature. It's the literature we most deserve.

So I got a new job, and I start tomorrow. I’m excited to have a job, and bummed out I’m going to be working.

First, this is a great job, and i'm excited about it." "Second, i'm ambitious, but i can succeed almost everywhere." "What I can't do anywhere is be with you." "Choosing to be with you isn't a difficult decision, Jacqueline. It's easy. Incredibly easy.

Some managers hire people they're excited to work with. I prefer to hire people I'm excited to dominate.

Vanessa smiled. “I’m not nervous, no.” Joan’s cheeks started to burn. “I’m excited,” Vanessa said, closing the gap between them. “I want to take you everywhere. And do everything with you. And ask you every single question that’s been on my mind for months. And I want to know when you knew what was happening between us and I want to tell you when I knew. And I want to hold your hand in a quiet corner and I want to lie in bed and hear your heartbeat through your chest. I want to bring you coffee in bed. And I want to hear you tell me anything you’ve always wanted to tell someone. Because you know that you’ve met someone who desperately wants to listen.

I’m excited to see how far you can go from here when you can finally spread your wings without fear. Fly safe, Jean.

Being with you,” he says to Ava, “is like being in literature. I have no idea where you’ll lead me next. But I’m excited. My life could change. And I’m not alone anymore.

When I don't know what I'm doing, I look like I don't know what I'm doing. When I'm excited or nervous, I look excited or nervous. And when I am lost, which is frequently, I look lost.

Maybe I was just flattering myself, thinking I'd be worth some sort of risk. Not that I'd wish that on anyone!" he clarified. "I don't mean that. It just...I don't know. Don't you all see everything I'm risking?" "Umm, no. You're here with your family to give you advice, and we all live around your schedule. Everything about your life stays the same, and ours changed overnight. What in the world could you possibly be risking?" Maxon looked shocked. "America, I might have my family, but imagine how embarrassing it is to have your parents watch as you attempt to date for the first time. And not just your parents-the whole country! Worse than that, it's not even a normal style of dating. "And living around my schedule? When I'm not with you all, I'm organizing troops, making laws, perfecting budgets...and all on my own these days, while my father watches me stumble in my own stupidity because I have none of his experience. And then, when I inevitably do things in a way he wouldn't, he goes and corrects my mistakes. And while I'm trying to do all this work, you-the girls, I mean-are all I can think about. I'm excited and terrified by the lot of you!" He was using his hands more than I'd ever seen, whipping them in the air and running them through his hair. "And you think my life isn't changing? What do you think my chances might be of finding a soul mate in the group of you? I'll be lucky if I can just find someone who'll be able to stand me for the rest of our lives. What if I've already sent her home because I was relying on some sort of spark I didn't feel? What if she's waiting to leave me at the first sign of adversity? What if I don't find anyone at all? What do I do then, America?" His speech had started out angered and impassioned, but by the end his questions weren't rhetorical anymore. He really wanted to know: What was he going to do if no one here was even close to being someone he could love? Though that didn't even seem to be his main concern; he was more worried that no one would love him. "Actually, Maxon, I think you will find your soul mate here. Honestly." "Really?" His voice charged with hope at my prediction. "Absolutely." I put a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to be comforted by that touch alone. I wondered how often people simply touched him. "If your life is as upside down as you say it is, then she has to be here somewhere. In my experience, true love is usually the most inconvenient kind.

I'm excited but afraid. I long to turn and wedge myself through the horse's arse from which I've just fallen, to sit safe in the hot womb of my room. But this is Jasper Jones, and he and come to me.

It's only in the last few years that I've learned that playing down the exciting stuff doesn't' take the pain away when it doesn't happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. Once you've diminished the importance of something, your friends are not likely to call and say, "I'm sorry that didn't work out. I know you were excited about it." Now when someone asks me about the potential opportunity that I'm excited about, I'm more likely to practice courage and say, "I'm so excited about the possibility. I'm trying to stay realistic, but I really hope it happens." When things haven't panned out, it's been comforting to be able to call a supportive friend and say, "Remember that event I told you about? It's not going to happen, and I'm so bummed.

That smile either holds a threat or a promise… I think I’m excited for either.

You’re all right, Blue Eyes.” She lifted her head to look into them. “You’re all right, down the line. You ever want a free bang, you got one coming.” “It would, no doubt be a memorable bang. But my wife is fiercely jealous and territorial.” He grinned over at a very cold-eyed Eve. “Her? You? That’s a kick in the ass.” “Every damn day,” Eve muttered, and strode out. She kept striding, out of the club, back into the comparatively fresh air of the city street. And fisted her hands on her hips as she spun to him. “Did you have to do the ‘my wife’ crap?” His grin remained, and only widened. “I did, yes. I felt a desperate need for your protection. I believe that woman had designs on me.” “I’ll put a design on you that won’t come off in the shower.” “See, now I’m excited.” Reaching out, he toyed with the lapel of her coat."What have you got in mind ?

It seems to me that sometimes the worst parents make the best grandparents. I'm not sure why. Maybe because there is enough of a generational separation that they don't see their grandchildren as an extension of themselves, so their relationship isn't tainted by any self-loathing. And of course, just growing older seems to soften and relax people. Since so many people these days don't seem to start their families until around age forty, I predict there will be less child beating, but more slipped disks from lifting babies out of cribs. Even the father of advanced age who's not inclined to spare the rod is likely to suffer more than his victim: The first punch he throws might well be the last straw for his rotator cuff, reducing his disciplinary options to mere verbal abuse and napping. I'm excited about the next generation!

I have never learned how to arrange my face into that blank expression of competent invisibility that is so useful when traveling in dangerous, foreign places. You know—that super-relaxed, totally-in-charge expression which makes you look like you belong there, anywhere, everywhere, even in the middle of a riot in Jakarta. Oh, no. When I don’t know what I’m doing, I look like I don’t know what I’m doing. When I’m excited or nervous, I look excited or nervous. And when I am lost, which is frequently,I look lost. My face is a transparent transmitter of my every thought. As David once put it, “You have the opposite of poker face. You have, like . . . miniature golf face.

Satisfied with my plan, I wrap a towel around my head genie-style, then wrap another one around my body. I open the bathroom door. And almost jump out of my skin. Galen is sitting on my bed. I've really got to start locking my balcony doors. He looks mad and happy at the same time. It's only been twenty-four hours since I've seen him, but even sleep deprived and grouchy, I'm excited that he's back. "I think your dad was a Half-Breed," he says. He frowns. "And I never told Rayna I would teach her how to drive.

And as the recession continues and our prospects look bleaker and bleaker, I’m excited. I look to the past to see what our future will be like. And in times of economic hardship and harsh governments, of pointless wars and mass unemployment, there was pop art and there was punk, there was hip hop and grafitti, there was acid house and riot grrrl. There was art and music and books that could bring you to your knees with their utter perfection. Because, when everything else is gone, all we’re left with is our imaginations.

Because for the first time in my life, I’m excited to go to a Trial.

I'm excited. People from around the country have read the book and love it. Whew! I didn't want it stuck in the South, though I do love my Southerners!

I also see courage in myself when I'm willing to risk being vulnerable and disappointed. For many years, if I really wanted something to happen-an invitation to speak at a special conference, a promotion, a radio interview-I pretended that it didn't matter that much. If a friend or colleague would ask, "Are you excited about that television interview?" I'd shrug it off and say, "I'm not sure. It's not that big of a deal." Of course, in reality, I was praying that it would happen. It's only in the last few years that I've learned that playing down the exciting stuff doesn't' take the pain away when it doesn't happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. Once you've diminished the importance of something, your friends are not likely to call and say, "I'm sorry that didn't work out. I know you were excited about it." Now when someone asks me about the potential opportunity that I'm excited about, I'm more likely to practice courage and say, "I'm so excited about the possibility. I'm trying to stay realistic, but I really hope it happens." When things haven't panned out, it's been comforting to be able to call a supportive friend and say, "Remember that event I told you about? It's not going to happen, and I'm so bummed.

But if you’re surprised that I’m excited to see Lisa after four days, then I’m glad you didn’t marry Chris. Because you deserve to miss the hell out of somebody after four days, and you deserve to have them miss you too.

He looked at Phillip and said, “I love this plan! I’m excited to be a part of it. Let’s do it!” Phillip said, “Ghostbusters.” He smiled, part out of admiration, part because he was delighted to get a pop culture reference for once.

I would never admit this to Mom, I've only told her I'm devastated about being away from her, but I'm excited too. I feel guilty about that excitement, considering the fragility of her health, but the feeling is undeniable. I get to be on my own. I get space to myself. Life to myself.

For the first time in my life, I no longer fear the future. I’m excited for it.

I’m excited to fight with you when I’m done.” “Can we save the fight until a later date? I’m kinda a big fan of not fighting with you ever.

I’m excited about James Patterson’s new Alex Cross book.

I do know one thing for sure: there’s much more for me to do. Whether or not 100% happy is achievable, I can definitely be more than 10% happier—and I’m excited to

Of course I'm excited about the Nobel. But I am passionate about my research. Passion is really important for anything you do; it's a general requirement

I’ve never met someone like you. That’s why I’m excited to know more.

Whatever! I accept and allow this anxious feeling. I’m excited by it as I engage with what’s in front of me.

I feel a bittersweetness that this moment can’t last, that time will pull us along soon. But for the first time in a while, I’m excited about the unknown. I’m looking forward to the surprises.

I’ve loved you as a friend since we were kids, and I’m… excited to explore a different type of love with you now. You are… incredible. This feels good. This feels right. I hope this lasts forever.

I swat his arm. I want to tell him that the greaseball fat kid he knew back then is dead. That I’m exciting now. Desirable. That admirable people have made all sorts of terrible decisions with me.

Hey, laugh all you want, but I grew up poor in backwoods Florida, with an immigrant, single mom. I'm the only person in my family who learned to read, and that was only because of comic books at first, and then fantasy novels and an active imagination. I got addicted to them when I was a kid and read like crazy. I must have read thousands of them. So I've been reading about elves and that kind of thing for twenty plus years. I can't help it if I'm excited." "You were a geek," she said. "Well, I guess." "I bet you played Dungeons and Dragons in a friend's garage." "Well, yeah." "Nerd.

Before Five Kingdoms is complete, I will begin work on the sequel series to my Fablehaven books. It will be called Dragonwatch. I’m excited to share more stories about the characters of Fablehaven including Kendra, Seth, Newel, Doren, Warren, Bracken, Vanessa, Raxtus, etc. If you’re liking Five Kingdoms but haven’t tried Fablehaven, you should get to know those people! If you’d like to connect

Whitney misread my silent horror. “I’m excited, too! And don’t worry, I snagged your friend Ella Francis as well. We can all hang together.” Emphasized in that clueless way adults speak when trying to sound hip.

Even though I’ve forbidden myself from falling for Camryn, I’m excited to see her tonight. Unhealthy as it may be, I’m becoming attached to seeing her smile, getting a rise out of her, and spending time with her.

Whenever there is something planned in my life—either meeting a friend, going on a school or uni trip, going for a walk, or, like today, starting an internship—when it actually comes to the day I have to go through with the plan, it goes from being something I’m excited about to something I dread. If I arrange to go to the cinema in a week’s time, for instance, when the time to go comes around, it becomes the last thing I want to do. My instinct, always, is to stay in.

And even though I’m better… I still think about you. All the time, actually. Like, the first thing I think about when I wake up is what you might be doing and how I want to see you. And when I go to sleep at night, I’m excited about seeing you the next day.

I decided to write a myth." "Have you figured out a topic? A moral conundrum?" "Yes." "What is it?" I heard Jack's chair creak. "It's about how there's no such thing as redemption," I whispered. "How you deserve what you get,and no higher power can save you." Mrs. Stone didn't answer immediately. The only sound in the room came from my own breathing. "What about heroes?" I hunched over and scribbled a few lines on my notebook. "There are no heroes." Sure,it wasn't an optimistic paper,but it was the only thing I could write passionately about. She was quiet for a moment again. When she spoke,her voice was gentle. "Okay. I'm excited to see what you put together." I nodded. "And,Mr. Caputo? Everything going well with the personal essay?" I could only assume he nodded, because Mrs. Stone returned to the front of the classroom. My right hand started to tremble,and I clenched my pencil and began scribbling. "You don't really believe that, do you?" Jack's voice was soft. I lifted my head, allowing my eyes to meet his for the first time in weeks. "It doesn't matter what I believe." I looked down at my notebook. "Wait," he said. I turned back. "What?" He shrugged,then spoke in a low murmur. "Just stop hiding behind your hair for a minute." I closed my eyes,but I didn't turn away. "You're making things difficult, Jack Caputo," I whispered. "At least you remember my name." I remembered everything. The first time he called me his girlfriend. The first time he told me he loved me. The first time I started to question whether or not I'd be able to hold on to him.The first time I knew I had to come back to see him again, at whatever cost.

Are you all right, dear?” Annabelle asked gently. “I don’t know,” Lillian admitted. “I don’t feel at all like myself. I’m excited and glad, but also somewhat…” “Afraid?” Annabelle murmured. The Lillian of a month ago would have died by slow torture rather than admit to one moment of fear… but she found herself nodding. “I don’t like being vulnerable to a man who is not generally known for his sensitivity or soft heartedness. It’s fairly obvious that we’re not well-suited in temperament.” “But you are attracted to him physically?” Annabelle asked. “Unfortunately, yes.” “Why is that a misfortune?” “Because it would be so much easier to marry a man with whom one shared a detached friendship, rather than… than…” All three young women leaned toward her intently. “R-rather than what?” Evie asked, wide-eyed. “Rather than flaming, clawing, lurid, positively indecent passion.” “Oh my,” Evie said faintly, drawing back in her chair, while Annabelle grinned and Daisy stared at her with enraptured curiosity.

Of course everything is terrible at the moment, and I miss you ardently, and I miss my family, and I miss parties and book launches and going to the cinema, but all that really means is that I love my life, and I'm excited to have it back again, excited to feel that it's going to continue, that new things will keep happening, that nothing is over yet.

Here we are, on the losing end of an interstellar war, with our world slowly falling apart around us, and I’m excited about going to see my girlfriend for a day or two. We may have gone from oar-powered galleys to half-kilometer starships in the span of two thousand years, but some things about humanity seem to be a universal constant, no matter the era.

Sometimes when he’s on top of me, when he’s moaning with his eyes squeezed shut and not even noticing if I’m excited or sad or bored, I get the feeling all he really wants is to leave part of himself inside me, to stake his claim, not to impregnate me or anything like that, but something more permanent. He wants to make sure he’ll always be there, no matter what. He wants to leave his fingerprints all over me, every piece of muscle and bone.

I’m excited to go to Matt’s parents’ house for Christmas, but I wish he’d sprung it on me a little earlier, like maybe before all the stores closed. I would have liked to bring his mom something: a candle, a tea towel—I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend, therefore I’ve never had to impress a boyfriend’s mom, so I’m just going off of what I think Reese Witherspoon or Joanna Gaines would do, and they’d sure as shit bring a gift for Mrs. Russell.

I'm excited because Deanna and I are on our way toward our stated objective of becoming scholars of the early Pink Floyd. I feel that we have a fairly good grasp of the all of the music, including the singles, through the first two albums, Piper at the Gates of Dawn and A Saucerful of Secrets, and we've done some of the groundwork on More, Ummagumma, Zabriskie Point and Atom Heart Mother, although all of those need more review. Anyway, #feelingchuffed ~ Sienna

It’s not so bad,” Bast said. “We just climb our way down to the river through a few miles of sand, cacti, and rattlesnakes, looking out for the Border Patrol, human traffickers, magicians, and demons—and summon Nephthys.” Sadie whistled. “Well, I’m excited!” “Agh,” Khufu agreed miserably. He sniffed the air and snarled. “He smells trouble,” Bast translated. “Something bad is about to happen.” “Even I could smell that,” I grumbled, and we followed Bast down the mountain.

After Josh leaves and Kitty goes upstairs to watch TV, I’m tidying up the living room and Peter’s sprawled out on the couch watching me. I keep thinking he’s about to leave, but then he keeps lingering. Out of nowhere he says, “Remember back at Halloween how you were Cho Chang and Sanderson was Harry Potter? I bet you that wasn’t a coincidence. I bet you a million bucks he got Kitty to find out what your costume was and then he ran out and bought a Harry Potter costume. The kid is into you.” I freeze. “No, he isn’t. He loves my sister. He always has and he always will.” Peter waves this off. “Just you wait. As soon as you and I are done, he’s gonna pull some cheesy-ass move and, like, profess his love for you with a boom box. I’m telling you, I know how guys think.” I yank away the pillow he’s got cushioning his bac and put it on the recliner. “My sister will be home for winter break soon. I bet you a million dollars they get back together.” Peter holds his hand out for me to shake on it, and when I take it, he pulls me onto the couch next to him. Our legs touch. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, and I think maybe he’s going to kiss me, and I’m scared, but I’m excited, too. But then I hear Kitty’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and the moment’s over.

The New Anthem For thirty days, every morning and every night, find a mirror, stand up straight, and confidently say the following out loud: I, [your name], choose my thoughts. I know that doing my best starts with thinking my best. Like laying a path for an adventure, these thoughts will set the course for my actions. I’m confident that what I think matters. I’m excited to see what happens next. I’m disciplined and dedicated to stick with it. Here are ten things I know: Today is brand-new and tomorrow is too. I’ve got a gift worth giving. The only person standing in my way is me, and I quit doing that yesterday. I am the CEO of me, and I am the best boss. Winning is contagious. When I help others win, I win too. Feeling uncomfortable is just a sign that my old comfort zone is having a hard time keeping up with me. Momentum is messy. Everything is always working out for me. I am my biggest fan. The best response to obstacles is to do it anyway. In the morning I’ve pulled the slingshot back. I’m not leaving this room, I’m launching from it, ready for a day of untold opportunities. I’ve packed honesty, generosity, laughter, and bravery for the road ahead. Watch out, world! It’s time to step up, step out, and step in. In the evening What a day! The best part is I left myself a lot of fun things to work on tomorrow. When my head hits that pillow, I’m off the clock, storing up energy and excitement for a brand-new day.

I've always felt we're supposed to be sad as often as we’re happy. Without being forlorn, happiness has no value. I believe out there, whatever or whoever is responsible for the universe has simply made us start at the beginning before more is revealed to us. I don’t believe in a perfect existence. If it were around, we would know about it already. Erase pain and suffering and erase life. We’re being prepared for the next chapter. Being subjected to what’s considered the ultimate state of mind in the universe comes with a price-tag. What steps were at now I have no idea. But I'm excited to get to the end someday. Maybe I’ll come find you and we can swap stories sometime? Until then I value my sadness as much as my happiness. A sadness we all share.

I love sitting back and taking a look behind, just to see how far I've come. To view how things have unfolded by one simple move I made almost 18yrs ago. If I shall succeed in my dream to further this that I have started, then I shall not stop until I reach the end. But then I stand only to wonder? Why should I give up at all in trying to pursue a dream that quite frankly could be the making of something amazing, something that most likely, if should fail, will place me right in the path of something else. So I shan't give up, because I have come this far and because I know, in my heart, that it's landing me somewhere truely amazing, and I'm excited to see where it goes. Faith doesn't always start in Religion, it starts inside you. And if you have enough of it in yourself, then who's to say what you can accomplish.

Stepping closer, I wiped away a tear from her cheek. “You’ll make a great mom.” “I guess we’re going to find out,” she said, melting into my arms. “I was on the pill. I can’t even do that part right.” Taking a deep breath and accepting this direction in my life, I said softly, “Don’t listen to the crap in your head. Listen to my heart. It’s known you from the beginning.” Lark tightened her grip on me. “You’re not mad.” “Why would I be mad?” “We just started dating.” “Oh, I had our whole lives planned out before you walked into my shop to fix your worm.” Lark smiled up at me. “Do you feel like I tried to trap you?” “Shit, you really have no idea how I see you. None at all. In fact, I’m happy on two levels. As the guy who wants to spend his life with you, I’m excited to think of our baby growing inside you. Plus, the caveman part of me is just excited that I beat Cooper.” Laughing, Lark nuzzled my chest. “And you knocked me up when I was on the pill. You have the mighty Thor of sperm.

Wait!” Shawn interjected, looking intently at Kenny, “You said ‘you all’ not ‘we’. What aren’t you telling us?” Kenny fiddled with his thumbs but Shawn smacked them apart. “I’m going away for a while.” The cheering had ended so abruptly that the silence was deafening against the occasional pops from the oven. “I’ve decided to quit my job and open a restaurant!” Jerry quickly interrupted, breaking the silence, “There’s isn’t a name for it yet but I’m excited…” Tonya and Teddy gave a small cheer. “Here’s a name; shut up.” Shawn glared back at Kenny, “You’re doing what again?

But I’m nervous.” “That’s natural”, I say. “But you know what? I never say I’m nervous. Do you want to know what I say?“ Lily nods. “I always say I’m excited. And that’s what you need to remember. You’re not really nervous, you’re just really excited. There’s a big difference between being scared and excited. That’s what makes you feel all fluttery inside, like you ate a million butterflies.” “That’s exactly how I feel!” she says.

It’s amazing the difference that it makes when you get up every morning and put on a fresh new attitude. I’m excited about today. I don’t have to go to work, but I get to go to work. I’m grateful to have a job. I’m not going to complain about the traffic. I’m grateful to have a car. I’m not going to focus on what’s wrong. Father, I want to thank You for what’s right in my life. You know what you’re doing? You’re cleaning your window.

Right, your swamp spiders. I admit I’m excited to try more of your human dishes. It smells remarkable.” Try as I might, I couldn’t stop the swell of pride from forming in my chest. This man and his damn food compliments.

Despite my nervousness, I’m excited as I step into the hallway. This place is a living, breathing fantasy.

I'm excited to announce ROOKIE FATHER is available for pre-order. Familius, the publisher, will release the title in January, 2022. The blog provides a list of online retailers that offer the title today. TheRookieFather.com

I’m excited to get a little fitter every day.” This

Your answer can actually communicate to the interviewer directly that you have relevant skills or experience. For example, you could say something like this: “I’m really interested in testing tools. For my senior project in college, I built an automated way of detecting certain types of errors. I learned a ton about different types of website errors and ways to detect them. I was really intrigued by how much impact automated testing can do, if done well—but I also learned just how challenging it is to do well. I’m excited to get back into this space and leverage what I learned.

I’m excited to go to school.

I’m not necessarily excited about the things that I can see in front of me. Rather, I’m excited about the things that I can’t see that lay beyond what I can.

The visions I have of a future with this woman take flight at that. I don’t know where we’ll go from here. I don’t know what dating will look for us back in the real world, but I’m excited to find out.

It won’t be him,” Roman said. “It will be me on the battlefield channeling his power.” He grinned. “I will be a battle volhv. This will be my first time. I’m excited.” “I didn’t mean to rope you into this.” “I didn’t mean to bring you into a scary swamp. Things happen.

Now when the meaning of life comes up, or Christ, or Buddha, or any of it, I’m excited. Not just to talk, but to listen and learn and share and grow.

I’m excited and happy because this,” she motions between us, “is all I’ve wanted.

I'm excited to chat with our friends and relax before coming home and fucking my husband's brains out.

Lord Seiji!” Sakin turned to me, putting on a wounded expression in the dimness. “A man has to take pride in his work. Where’s the satisfaction in standing over the ash and ruin of your enemy’s hopes and dreams if you know, in your heart of hearts, that you half-assed it?” Slowly, I turned to meet his eyes. “You will either be the first to betray me, or my last loyal servant by my side as we charge into the jaws of hell.” “Right?” He grinned in sheer delight. “I don’t know about you, my lord, but I’m excited to find out which! We’re going places, you and I.

Whenever there is something planned in my life—either meeting a friend, going on a school or uni trip, going for a walk, or, like today, starting an internship—when it actually comes to the day I have to go through with the plan, it goes from being something I’m excited about to something I dread.

And I’m excited to learn about soccer.

I can’t take it any longer. Her breasts are two plump pillows, ready to burst from her blouse. Her lips are pure perfection, desperately begging for mine to press against them. And her body has my testosterone pumping at a level I’ve never felt before. Yeah, I’m excited.

My apartment is comfortable but compact. The bedroom I’ve got ready for Godwin is on the small side. I didn’t know what a boy’s bedroom looked like, so I gave him exactly the bedroom I saw in the IKEA catalogue. I was concerned that he would be disappointed. But he immediately falls onto the twin bed and looks quite happy about it. I show him the pull-out storage drawers under the bed, and his closet, and his study desk. It is dark out. In the morning he will see a quiet, pleasant street. I ask Godwin if he would like to eat pizza for dinner—there is an excellent pizzeria nearby—and Mr. Lefebvre repeats my question to him in French. Godwin nods. Mr. Lefebvre declares, “Tonight we eat pizza. After that, madame, no more American food. No more hamburgers, no more fast food…” He is wagging his finger at me. Sushila, horrified, says, “Jean-Luc!” There is no need for her intervention. I have learned to manage overly direct individuals. “I agree with you, Jean-Luc,” I tell him. “An athlete must eat good food. I’m not good at cooking, but I’m excited to learn.

Hello, everyone! I’m excited to join this community of book lovers. Reading has always been a passion of mine, and I’m eager to connect with others who share this love. I enjoy exploring a range of genres, from classic literature to contemporary fiction, and am always open to new recommendations. I'm looking forward to diving into discussions, sharing insights, and discovering books that spark curiosity and inspiration. Thank you for having me in the group—I can't wait to get started!

very well, didn’t you? I’m excited about the new lines.” With relief, she saw that he was willing to let her shift the conversation, and she soon had him in his low-slung sports car and on his way. Giving herself

When I don’t know what I’m doing, I look like I don’t know what I’m doing. When I’m excited or nervous, I look excited or nervous. And when I am lost, which is frequently, I look lost. My face is a transparent transmitter of my every thought.

The result of my not caring so much about what I say allows me to care more about how I say it. I think it makes my writing more personal and more enjoyable. If you’re reading this, you’re probably a woman. Or perhaps you’re a gay man getting a present for your even gayer friend. Maybe you accidentally bought this thinking it was the Malala book. However this book made its way from the “Female Humor/Brave Minority Voices/Stress-free Summer Reads!” section of your bookstore to your hands, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is you are here now. Welcome. I’m excited to share my stories with you, so you can see what I’m really like. If my childhood, teens, and twenties were about wanting people to like me, now I want people to know me.

When you wake up on Monday morning, don’t accept those negative thoughts that come knocking on your door, saying, It will be a hard day and a long week. Traffic will be bad. I have so much work to do. I just need to make it through the Monday morning blues. Don’t buy into those thoughts. Instead, say, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve already answered the door and almighty God, the Creator of the universe, has sent me a hand delivery of joy. I know this will be a great day!” Decide that for you, there are no Monday morning blues. Instead, choose the Monday morning dos by saying, “I do have a smile. I do have joy. I do have God’s favor. I do have victory.” Yes, I know some days are more difficult than others. But if you program your mind in a positive way, you won’t have to drag through certain days just hoping to get to Friday so you can finally enjoy life. Faith is always in the present. Your attitude should be: I’m excited to be alive at this moment. I’m excited to be breathing today. I’m excited about my family, my health, and my opportunities. I have plenty of reasons to be happy right now.

Get in agreement with God In the Bible, David said, “Lift up your head and the King of glory will come in.” As long as your head is down and you are discouraged, with no joy, no passion, and no zeal, the King of glory will not come. Instead, get up in the morning and say, “Father, thank you for another day. Thank you for another sunrise. I’m excited about this day.” When you’re really alive, hopeful, grateful, passionate, and productive, then the King of glory, the most high God, will come in. He’ll make a way where it looks like there is no way.

Keep the right perspective Some people would love to have your problems. They would gladly trade places with you. They would love to have the job that frustrates you. They would love to sit in traffic in that car you don’t like. They would love to have your husband, who gets on your nerves. They would love to live in the house you think is too small. You may be thinking, “As soon as I get out of this neighborhood, then I’m going to be happy.” Instead, why don’t you choose to be happy right where you are? Choose to have a good attitude without thinking about what you have or don’t have. Your happiness is all about your approach to life. One man gets up and says, “Good morning, Lord.” Another man gets up and says, “Oh Lord, it’s morning.” Which person are you? You control what kind of day you’re having. You’re as happy as you want to be. It’s not your circumstances that keep you unhappy. It’s how you respond to them. A lot of times we’re making ourselves unhappy. You can’t change the traffic, the weather, or how others treat you. If your happiness is based on everything going your way and everybody treating you right, you will be frustrated. Before you leave the house, you need to make up your mind to stay positive and enjoy the day no matter what comes your way. You have to decide ahead of time. That’s what it says in Colossians 3:2, “Set your mind on the higher things and keep it set.” The higher things are the positive things. When you get out of bed in the morning, you need to set your mind for victory. Set your mind for success. Have the attitude: “This is going to be a great day. God’s favor is on my life. I’m excited about my future.” When your mind is set as positive, hopeful, and expecting good things, that’s when you’ll go places you’ve never dreamed. New doors will open. New opportunities, and the right people will come across your path. But if you don’t set your mind, negative thoughts will set it for you. You can’t start the day in neutral. If you’re passive, lying in bed, negative thoughts like these will come: “You’ll never accomplish your dreams. You’ll never get married. You’re too old. You’ll never get well. Nothing good ever happens to you. You’ll never get out of debt.

You immediately respond by defusing it with a playful “so what/whatever” attitude. Then you move into allowing any residual anxiety you feel to be fully present. You get comfortable with your anxious discomfort. “I accept and allow this anxious feeling.” Now run toward the anxious feelings by telling yourself that you are in fact excited by them. “I’m excited by this feeling.” Then finally, you move your focus back to what you were doing. In this case, you engage with the work in front of you without feeling a need to check in all the time because you know you’re doing the right thing to heal your anxiety. Please

This is going to be a great day. God is guiding and directing my steps. His favor is surrounding me. Goodness and mercy are following me. I’m excited about today!

sometimes we do things because we simply feel led by God to do them. Besides, I’ve been wanting to do something with that old smokehouse for years. I can’t think of a better project. I’m excited about this!” “Yeah?” “What’s not to like? The way I see it, we’re both on similar journeys. I give these guys fresh starts, you give your furniture a new life. Looks like we’re all about second chances, y’know?” “Dad! That’s the perfect name for my shop—Second Chances.

What’s that?” Liv asked as he gave her the flower. She couldn’t tell if it was real or not but it had silky, periwinkle blue petals and a mild, sweet fragrance that reminded her of baby lotion. “Your answer,” Sylvan said. “If the results were negative, you would have received a white flower. If you were carrying a female baby, the flower would have been pink—that’s a very rare result indeed.” “But blue means…” Liv looked up at him, her heart pounding. “A little boy? I’m carrying a boy?” “You are,” Sylvan said gravely. “May I be the first to congratulate you, mate-of-my-kin, and wish you a safe and healthy pregnancy and delivery.” “Oh my God!” Liv was so excited she couldn’t speak. Instead she rushed forward and pulled him down into a hug. Sylvan was stiff at first, clearly surprised by her exuberance. But then he loosened up a little and hugged her back carefully. “Wait ‘til I tell Baird,” she exclaimed. “He’s going to be so surprised!” “He’ll be extremely pleased and so proud there’ll be no living with him.” Sylvan smiled when she finally let him go. “Are you going to tell him at once?” “Yes, him first and then the girls. Oh, Sophie’s going to be so excited to be an aunt!” “I’m excited to be a…what is your term for it?” “An uncle. You’ll be the baby’s uncle.” Liv grinned at him. “Oh, I have so much to do! And no time to do it.” “You have plenty of time,” Sylvan assured her. “According to the results and the size of the flower you received, you’re still in your first quadmester.” “My first what?” Liv frowned. “You mean trimester, right?” “No.” He shook his head. “Carrying a Kindred baby to term takes twelve of your Earth months, not just nine. So you see, Olivia, you have plenty of time to get everything done.” “Wow.” Liv was a little nonplussed. “Uh…a whole year, huh? You guys should really put that in the brochure.” “We don’t hide anything,” Sylvan protested. “You just have to ask about some things if you want to know.” Liv laughed. “All right—I’m so excited right now I don’t even care. Although by my eleventh or twelfth month I may want to shoot myself. Or Baird, for that matter.” Sylvan gave her one of his rare, one-sided smiles. “Go tell him now before you start wanting to shoot.” “I will.

John was laying on his front, arm draped over her thighs as he explored her tiny baby bump, pressing kisses here and there. “I can’t believe we’re having a kid. I mean, I’m excited but it’s one of those things that I never thought would happen to me.” “Well, maybe you never thought it would happen, but I did. I know what a wonderful man you are, and what a great father you’ll be.” John’s dark eyes got a little misty and he rested his ear against her tiny bump, as if to listen for a heartbeat. “We

Once my clutter is gone, I’ll be able to _______________. I’m excited about being able to finally do that because ______________________. I’m nervous about being able to finally do that because ______________________. I’ll be happier once I’m finally able to do that because ______________________. The consequences I’ll have to face once I’m finally able to do that are ______________________.

Okay, the bell is about to ring, so I want you all to finish that worksheet about the different uses for SHOVELS as homework. Now, remember we have our excursion to the Mob Science Museum tomorrow. If you haven’t already handed in your signed permission slip, you need to give it to me tomorrow before you board the bus. And—’ Ms. Bones was cut off when the school bell rang. Nobody stuck around to hear the end of her sentence, instead packing their bags and fleeing the school. ‘Duuuude,’ Skelee said next to me as we walked into the hallway. ‘The Mob Science Museum is gonna be HECTIC. I’m excited! There’s gonna be buzzy things and gloopy things and exploding things!’ ‘If you wanna see exploding things, come over when I’m doing homework,’ Creepy said sadly. Skelee rolled his eye sockets. ‘What are you most excited about?’ he asked me. ‘The rocket!’ I answered quickly. ‘The rocket is gonna be the best part. I hope it works and they show us. And I wanna see the big BUZZY ball of electricity too.’ ‘Same,’ Skelee nodded. ‘Big buzzy ball of electricity all the way for me.

Jesus Monster-Dick Christ. I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified.

Sometimes, when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, what you’ve really hit is the foundation for the next chapter in your life. This is my next chapter, and I’m excited to see where it takes me.

And I’m excited to get out there and finally ski,” Jessica went on. “This is going to be more fun than a bucket of weasels!” “Bucket of weasels?” I repeated. Jessica frowned. “Oh, shoot. I got that wrong, didn’t I? I always have trouble with your idioms. They’re so strange.” Understanding came to me. “You meant ‘more fun than a barrel of monkeys.’ ” “Yes! That’s it!” Jessica agreed brightly. “See what I mean? Honestly, would a barrel of monkeys be that much fun?” “More fun than a bucket of weasels,” I pointed out. “No way. Have you ever been around monkeys? They smell and they throw poo at you.” “Are you two talking about monkeys?” Erica asked, slipping in between us. “I loooove monkeys! They’re so cute! Especially lemur-monkeys!

Welcome to the first dinner of this academic year, we shall start as we always do by saying the witches’ creed,' Miss Moffat said. As she began to speak, the other witches joined in: 'Witches old and witches young owls and bats and black cats too. Come together in this castle to bring out the best in you. With perfect love and perfect trust we learn the spells and witches' rules. Acting for the good of all now let’s eat in this great hall.' Charlotte looked at Stef, and they exchanged awkward glances because everyone else around them seemed to know the words to the creed, including Gerty and even Alice, although she only joined in on the last few sentences. Charlotte knew that she'd need to learn it for next time so that she didn't stand out and reminded herself to ask Gerty to teach it to her and Stef later. As soon as the witch’s creed had finished the bats flew into the room carrying bowls of broth and baskets of bread rolls. They went to the teacher's table first before they brought in food for the girls. Charlotte watched, and she was incredibly impressed as two bats quickly but precisely placed the bowl of orangey red broth down in front of her. On seeing Stef begin to eat and Gerty grab a roll out of the basket in front of them, she also took a roll and then placed her spoon into her broth. Picking up the silver goblet in front of her, she saw that it was now full of cranberry juice, even though she was sure it had been empty when she'd first sat down. The main course was a selection of steamed meats, and freshly cooked vegetables and dessert was an array of fruits and mini cakes that the bats brought in on three-tiered stands. The food was so delicious that even Alice hadn't complained once, although when Charlotte thought about it, she realized that Alice hadn't said anything since she'd sat down. When everyone had finished eating Molly stood up and said 'luculentam' as she waved her wand. All the dirty dishes, goblets and cutlery immediately vanished, and the tables were perfectly tidy. 'I so need to learn that spell,' Stef said, and Charlotte and Gerty nodded in agreement. 'Now that dinner is over it is your free time to do as you wish, may you use it wisely. I request the new students to stay behind, and Molly will give you a tour of the Academy. As for the rest of you, you're now free to leave,' Miss Moffat said. She got onto the broomstick that was floating behind her chair and led the rest of the teachers and older students out of the room. Charlotte watched as the room became quieter. Then she followed the others over to where Molly was standing in front of the platform, her blonde-hair now tied into bunches. 'I don't see why I need a tour, I know where my room is, and the meeting hall is easy to find. Surely servants should be on call to show me the remaining rooms as and when I need to see them,' Alice said, breaking her short bout of silence. 'This castle is huge, and I'm excited to see more of it,' Charlotte whispered to Gerty.

I’m reaching toward something in a dark room. But I’m excited.

Knock, knock! Who’s there? Ya. Ya who? I’m excited to see you too!

So I just got a call from the hotel, and they want me to start work tomorrow. I’m excited to have a job, but bummed out about working.

quickly,” he replied with his signature laugh. “I’m excited. You make sure the radio guys get their hits, and I’ll spend my time finding tours and giving the band ideas to build their street cred and fan base.

I don’t know about you folks, but I’m excited to be part of this plan,” Alex said. “Let’s get going.