‘chucky cheese!! chucky cheese!!’

thanksgiving with my family was awesome. it always is. here’s just a quick glimpse of some of the things i got to see while i was there:

a crooked wig on one family member who didn’t seem to care.

2 rollers in 1 grandmother’s hair…only 2…strategically placed rollers.

a 3 year-old stranger-child who yelled ‘chucky cheese!!’ every time my brother entered the room.

a grown woman, blaming the spilling of punch down my leg on a 1 yr old baby…for SHAME!!!

a ridiculous scene made by my brother and i while my granddad ate ‘chitlins’ in front of us…because we were both grossed out, we acted as if we were throwing up and choking to death…and in effect, almost choked him to death as he laughed at us.

someone (i shall not name names) who was ‘lady’ enough to wait until she was just outside the door of someone’s home before ripping the biggest poot i’ve ever heard by a human lady who clearly had no regard for my life or nasal passages during the act.

a really good high school football game…at least i think it was really good…as it was 37 degrees and windy, i cannot be sure about WHAT my eyes actually saw, because they were frozen & immobile by the end of the game.

…now, it’s almost Christmas…and i can’t wait to see what they show me next.

freakin’ cold.

sometimes, when the heat comes on, i feel myself sigh. sure–the warm air feels nice, because the house is chilly…but my summer’s over. it’s so cold outside at night lately, that i can already smell Christmas-time in the air. every time i’ve felt the cold wind cut through the light jacket i’m stubborn enough to keep wearing, i miss my weekends relaxing in the sun with a book.even.more. but alas, it’s just how it is.
halloween just passed and i officially participated for the first time in years…sure, i dressed as a drunk priest and my mom told me i’m going to hell on scholarship…but dressing up was pretty good fun. besides that, a good friend dressed as a nun and went with me–her reason: she couldn’t let me go to hell alone…you just don’t get any better than that.
fall time, then winter…aaack.  but it’s all okay…i get to wear layers, (which makes working out feel a little less like an emergency) i love wearing scarves, i don’t feel so ridiculous buying uncool non-iced coffee this time of year, and i got new boots…may not be too bad after all, this effin cold weather.

spoken

some may have an urge to do something; and there are those who possess a talent for doing it well…then, there are the people walking among us who are able to grab a mic and channel ‘amazing’, using the loudest of subtleties of words & play, putting their very essence out there so tangibly and so clearly that everyone within earshot of their work truly feels every word they’ve chosen to stoke us with…and the imprint they leave shows in the goose bumps we’re all covered in when they’re done.
they make you feel like you’re a privy to something that only you and the select few present are trusted with and frankly, it’s one that you couldn’t find the words to justly convey anyway…so i’ll stop trying now…but at the very least, i owe them this attempt.

to my self doubt

to the shadow behind my half-smiles…the focus of my every sideways glance, you are my reason for second-guessing any answer or feeling before sharing, and why my goals and aspirations are whispers and not proclamations…
i sleep thoroughly most nights, wrapped in your arms–my excuses & complacency–reinforced by the uselessness of my unfounded concerns, my half-written books, my unbalance.  i’m comfortable there, and you graciously take the blame for that.
in as much as i hate your existence though, i do so enjoy every time i get the best of you…with every line i write, every genuine smile sent my way, and through every word of encouragement i earn…my confidence grows.

everybody’s got their vices, their flaws…i’m certainly not without mine: my dedication to you…

sometimes i make sense, sometimes i just…

…stream-of-consciousness: writing style, psychology term…the cloak i wear.
although i’d heard the phrase before, i’d never paid any special attention to it until a friend mentioned it to me awhile back as i described my blog to her. i’ve looked it up since then and i think she’s right…

 according to an article written by John Mepham, Kingston University:

The term “stream of consciousness” was… introduced in William James’s The Principles of Psychology (1890) to denote the continuous flow of thoughts, feelings and impressions which, he believed, is what makes up our inner lives. James was aware of the complexity of this “stream”. It does not consist of a single stream of consecutive items; many items may coexist.

i think this is definitely me…not just how i write, but how i think, how i live–spontaneously unedited.  my mind, always moving…forward or backward at any given time.  i remember things i’m supposed to let go of forever and forget things i once thought meant the most.  anything can remind me of someone; any one person can make me want to forget a particular thing.  i’m assuming most of the world is the same.

some might call it ‘unfocused’, but um…i don’t care.  i just try to move fairly smoothly from one experience to the next as if it’s a mission–but i don’t accept it begrudgingly, because i’m happy to grab any lesson i can from each sweet, salty, luscious moment…then loaf about, leaving behind pictures of all the moments i remember…or want to forget, using words of my heart’s choosing.

stream of consciousness…conscious of it all.

life is a given, living is not

when someone you know loses their life unexpectedly, it rattles you.  and it only makes the situation harder when they’re young, and all you’ve ever seen or heard about this person was good…when you can see how deeply their death affects others in your life…when every memory you have of this person involves genuine smiles between the two of you.

death is a horrible thing…but it’s inevitable. living (not to be confused with life), is not, no matter how much time we’re each allotted here in this world. being conscious…being present is taken for granted by many of us, everyday. i pride myself on the fact that i hold on with both hands, no matter how hard it is sometimes…to the lessons i learn, to the people who care to teach me, to my truths. i’ve done that for most of my life, but sometimes it takes an unexpected loss that hits close to home, to remind me to be truly grateful for the responsibility…because there’s no way to know how long i’ll be blessed with it. for me personally, loving is living…so i take comfort in knowing that so far, i’ve lived a pretty full life…and each friend and family member i have can attest to that.

mommy

 eyes closed, mouth open, she rests…finally.  still holding on to the railing of her bed, as if her world is continuing to spin a little faster than normal.  she’s just had a shot of morphine for the pain, so everything’s dull and quiet for now.  her mind and body are rebooting to the rhythm of all the beeping and pumping machinery all around her.  she’s had lots to think about for the past few weeks…both parents diagnosed with cancer, her own lack of mobility, and worries about today’s pretty heavy surgery to correct that…blindsided in a sense.  she deserves this quiet and pampering, and all the forthcoming encouragement and attention in return for all the strength she’s shown…and lent, while putting concerns about herself on the back burner for a minute.  now, she gets to focus on herself…getting better, stronger, getting back, with her bounce…our walk.  she’s feeling good right now…but she’ll feel better once all the therapy’s done and she’s free again.  they say she’ll be in this hospital room for at least 3 or 4 days…plenty of  time for her to get her head together…and apparently, she’ll need it.  she just woke up with a look of shock on her face, asking me, “Did you say they catheterized me?!”  i laughed & told her, ‘No, I didn’t say anything…but yes, you do have a catheter.”  she then asked me, ”Where?” as i laughed…and she passed out again.  classic.  cute.  mommy.

i get

angry sometimes

frustrated

heavy with grief over what could be

sad about things i can’t help

upset with the skeptics who refuse to except the good or pure, even when there’s no doubt that it’s all they should be interested in, during a particular situation

that even after all the rest in the world, because of how much i feel, all the time, i’m still gonna be tired…worn, but

that the end of every day starts the beginning of the next

that my goal isn’t to focus so much on making it to the end of each day, but upon getting thru it, continue looking forward to the opportunity  to begin the next.

i’m getting it.

wasting time.

yesterday, i (yes EYE) went fishing.  i never really did anything like that when i was younger…i don’t think anybody in my family thought i’d be interested…worms and all i guess…yeah, they were right.  besides that, who’s got room in a small boat for a gangly, amazingly allergic kid and all the stuff she ‘needed’ to have with her at all times (i.e. inhalers, 4 books, lotion, 2 skin creams, an electronic game with plenty of batteries, a Rubik’s cube, and an etch-a-sketch)…WHO?  …nobody i knew. 

i actually did  hope to catch something yesterday, but i’m wondering what i would’ve done if i had…hmm…picture a quickly-rigged contraption where the fishing pole was tied to a chair/tree/small child, keeping my catch just far enough inside the edge of the water to stay alive while i run away screaming for help…and accolades.  i hope the folks that i was with didn’t actually expect me to touch anything i caught.  the bait was artificial, and i was careful not to let even a drop of water from the pond touch me…last thing i need is some gross infection…or fish bite…yet, somehow i still found the whole experience to be…relaxing.

the michael jackson cd someone had blasting from the house closest to the pond was pretty sweet too. 

yep…nothing like some good ol’ outdoorsey, all-natural fishin’ for this country girl.

lol

shut up & listen

…there’s somethin’ to be said ’bout the calming sound of a summer rain drifting thru your bedroom window at night…but i’ll figure out the best way to describe it another time…right now, i’m appreciating…and breathing…and…

hmm…

ever wonder what people think of you, just based on your appearance?  i do.  ever wonder if it’s positive, or weird…or if there’s something comical that they see that you didn’t…like YOU think you look great, but they see what your hair is really talkin’ bout.

i wonder what goes thru their minds when this 5′10″ reddish-brown ‘being’ saunters their way, bandana framing a wild mop of silver-streaked black curls, hovering over curious eyes with an ever-ready goofy grin.  i get lotsa smiles, some come naturally…others, i coax forward with a ‘hey there’ or  a wave.  it almost always works…but after that moment, i wonder if folks walk away shaking their heads.

the reason this is on my mind at all is because some friends and i were in a crowd of hundreds during a music festival over the weekend.  there were so many different types of people…families were there together, friends…lovers.  it’s always so interesting–the dynamics of a person who’s out to have a good time…did they plan to be there, or just happen upon the location and stop by…or were they dragged out unwillingly…would that explain their manner of dress, or their jubilance when they run into somebody they know?   my imagination goes wild in those crowds as i ponder where these folks may know each other from, or what their homes must be like…or why some don’t know how to say ‘excuse me’ as they practically knock you over when making their way past you…or why one thinks he can take your chair to where his friends are and sit in it while you’re in the restroom, spilling the blueberry beer that you left in the cupholder…never apologizing once for ruining your chair as he continues talking to his friends…that prick.

so then, after THAT, everyone’s suspect.  along with wonderings and musings about the relationships i see and what these individuals were doing before this festival…what they’ll do after…i’m wondering, ‘does THIS dude think he can violate my space and belongings while i’m not looking like that other jerk?’  …you know, that sort of thing.

SO…i wonder sometimes if those people that i pass in hallways or on streets or in stores…that look away quickly, are SO slow to smile, or stare right past my head has had some type of  encounter, or heard a story about someone with features or an appearance matching mine.

…and to my defense, a girl gets into ONE lousy barfight and–i’ll just stop there.

random…

things i know for sure today…

…nba basketball is not all bad.
…my mom is more brave than she realizes.
…even though i FEEL like serena williams when i’m on the tennis court, i’m almost positive that i LOOK more like…i dunno, hank williams jr.
…sometimes family brings out the worst in you…in which case, i feel you have every right to distance yourself from them…and not feel bad about it.
…i should probably bowl more.
…i just can’t figure out why i lost all interest in ’smallville.’  and i really have given this a lot of thought.
…the next time i see that one man begging at that one intersection, i will give him all the cash that i keep in that one particular place in my car.
…some people have more pet drama than people drama.
…dimples are sexy.
…i wish i had the means to travel the world on a whim…but i know that more than likely, i’d stumble upon the perfect spot immediately…and never leave it.
…i may look like the average chick…but this blog means i’m…not.
…even without speaking a single word with them, chances are that any adult that you see taking a swimming class is pretty awesome…and adorable.

…i am so blessed.

sure, there’s a point…i promise.

one amazing feeling, as captured by a few wandering thoughts.

you can listen to this while you read…if you like:   the point of it all– anthony hamilton
…it fits my groove/mood/thoughts/cravings/o.c.d. today better than other songs i’ve heard recently.

…it’s rainy outside, yet warm…i’m here alone, but not lonely…longing, though not sad…totally humbled, yet full of love–to the point of almost bursting–so full that i’m not quite sure what i’m supposed to do when i find myself so…aware…of it all…screaming, jumping up and down, tears, or hysterical laughter would all be reasonable reactions, even to the most conservative of people…if they could feel it for even a second.
i’m trying to communicate something, without rambling on forever–because i could, you understand, NEVER run out of words to describe this high…even on low days. it’s just that i’m more sure than i’ve ever been in my life that it’s mutual and right..despite any opposition we may ever come to know of, which we’ll always ignore…focusing instead, on what’s been true from the start.
…i’m saying all this (rambling, despite myself) to get to my point…EYE LOVE EWE…so deeply that i hear you when you’re not speaking, feel you when you’re beyond my reach, and see you in every experience i have.
as far apart as we are…as rarely as we get to physically be together, i’m so grateful…for the opportunity to see the progress of what we’re building up from the foundation of love, respect, and honesty that we agreed upon not so long ago…for the understanding of how we had to live through our experiences from ‘before us’ so we can better appreciate our ‘after’…and how we’re equipped with the presence of mind to notice and give thanks for the differences…and the tools to express them all…and the passion between us for paying attention to every.little.thing…and the bravery to acknowledge who we are to each other……amazing when i think about it. (catching my breath now) that’s it…for now.
thanks again for being here…choosing me…loving me…affording me the motivation to expand/better who i am, how i see…my world in general…ok, i’m stopping now…again…i really could go on…because there’s always something good to say, even when things are hard…always a happy thought to share about–nevermind. enough…the point…you…i love…and i want to make you understand th–. (running away from my computer as fast as i can now, as it’s the only way i’ll stop)

my space

there are quiet times…

when i’m thankful for the opportunity to hear and think what i will with no more influence over those thoughts than the birds chirping, or the rain falling, or the sun peeking.  no sounds of other thinkers interrupting the melodies of my choosing.  no sights to yank me clear of the fog of my creation where dreams and wishes are spread before me…all within reach…all inside my calm, where i do or say nothing to disturb anyone else.  today, there’s a hint of anticipation crackling within this bubble of mine, alongside the relishing of doing nothing…but this.  it comes from knowing this time is limited–because of my own doing.  i’ve made plans for a little while from now so…soon, i’ll run back out to join the ranks of those carrying on life within sight and sound of each other…noticing and being noticed…maybe.  my sounds or the scenes i create while making my own way will meld into others’ to be acknowledged or dismissed as deemed fit…or not.  and i’ll be ok…knowing i always have my quiet…my calm.

jus_nic

ok, sure, it’s definitely been a good, long minute since i put a complete thought out into the world, outside of  freakin’ twitter. i won’t get into how i gave in & addictified myself to yet another silly fad, just because it affords me a quick & creative way to purge the silly/dark/empty thoughts i’m known for conjuring when i’m left to my own devices–as opposed to collapsing into the naps i’m so fond of..not that i’ve given up napping…but now, i dream in tweets & chirps with celebs who take small breaks from their fabulosity for short meaningless conversations with the likes of me.
in my mind, i’ve miraculously awakened a latent humor or originality in every other thought i’ve had since creating that stupid account…and i continuously find justification in sharing said sparks of genius with millions of twits just like me, even as i read more & more that i’m eating away the last chunk of internet available to the free world with my open texts to the universe-at-large…but enough about that & back to the fact that it’s been so long since i’ve blogged that i actually forgot my username and password & was unable to log in tonight…it was pitiful.
i’m gonna get back on it though…soon. and it’s not even that i haven’t done anything worth capturing here–since my last post, i’ve returned safely (yet, sadly) from ohio, celebrated mother’s day with my very own, and traveled to atlanta to spend time with grands, complete with a trip to the one of the best aquariums i’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting.
for those of you who know i’ve begun writing a book, i haven’t stepped anywhere near that for quite awhile either…but again, i will. i hope to lay off the travelling for a minute & find my groove here at home again…so…tweet me luck!  =))

well…i know my strengths…and limitations.

…i’ve always suspected that i might be an impatient person…

the stanford marshmallow study: began in 1960—hungry 4-year-olds were offered a marshmallow, but were told that if they could wait for the experimenter to leave the room & then return, they would get 2 marshmallows instead of 1.  1/3 of the kids grabbed one immediately, a few more waited for awhile, and another 1/3 waited the entire 15-20 mins for the experimenter to get back.  this was a study about self discipline and said a lot about these children and the types of adults they would grow up to be. turns out that when checking on these kids years later, the ones who grabbed the 1 marshmallow quickly turned out to be impulsive, drug-addicted saps who were involved in unhappy relationships & were just all-around unhealthy people altogether. the ones who waited for 2 grew up to be successful, well-adjusted adults with happy, perfect kids & lives, and yachts & stuff…yeah right.
ok, first of all, who would be cruel enough to starve 4 year olds anyway?? and then only offer 1 OR 2 marshmallows??? and they could only get 2 if they voluntarily suffered longer than the others? can’t you just picture starved 4-year-old kids, crawling across the floor to a table with a single marshmallow for each of them? …no milk or anything…those poor dears. why weren’t these evil “interviewers” prosecuted? and why were the results so extreme? couldn’t there have been a happy medium…like, if you waited long enough to get 2, but rebelled and asked to be rewarded with a slice of cake…or $13 instead, couldn’t you have been viewed as..industrious…??  or if you only wanted 1 marshmallow in the first place, couldn’t you have been seen as mature or something?  …i dunno…i don’t have all the details of the study…i’m just saying.

the 2 people that i’m closest to are 2-marshmallow people…they are very patient folks who are able to pace themselves and they practice self control regularly…according to one of them, if i had participated in this study, i would’ve gobbled my 1 marshmallow immediately & then talked a couple of the patient kids into happily offering me the 2 marshmallows that they waited on so patiently…and i would’ve saved those for later. i don’t know what the study would say about that, but i’m thinking it would be something along the lines of ‘future millionaire’.

today’s pms mantra (every woman should have one)

i’m just thinkin’ bout life…and how good it is. am thinkin’ bout how on any given day, so many things could go wrong…but they don’t…and somehow, i’m equipped with the knowledge that if they do, i’ll get thru it. i always do.
my family is always within reach. my friends are some of the best any one person could ask for.
the car i’ve been driving for 12 years continues to crank everytime i try it (for now).
work can be overwhelming some days…but i am working and therefore thankful.
the weather’s warm.
i have my aches, pains, and aggravations, but they usually pass after a bit.

i care what happens to everybody i know. i’m SO loved. i feel good right now…life is good…and i’m ok.

time with my family

**originally written after returning from Christmas break with my family, last year**

 hearing your grandmother laugh ’til she squeaks is sort of like when a baby gets tickled and laughs out loud for the first time…you just get all warm and it’s the sweetest, cutest, most delightful sound you’ve ever heard…and it makes you laugh…and love even more.

it’s like there’s a gas leak.  that’s what i say to myself when i feel it starting…the giggles.  that’s the only logical explanation when we begin…and can’t stop sometimes when we all get together.

it starts with just a few small chuckles at the silliest thing…then grows as we look around at each other with big goofy grins while we shake our heads.  i think at some point, it morphs…from a few of us laughing at something ridiculous…to a family reveling in the fact that we’re all content to sit with each other and tell stories of no importance and lean on the person who’s next to us…for support…and laugh ’til we’re tired & the tears come.  we save up for these conversations; it can be 3 of us or 9; and we can be in the house, car, or at the mall in a crowd that disappears completely when we start up for whatever reason…and it’s always appropriate…to us…

everybody who’s experienced some type of joyous…thing–large or small, would probably like to capture the feeling, or the smell, or the sound of that experience…to keep for themselves, or share with others, whatever the case may be…i would too.  i wouldn’t want to keep it though–i’d give a little to everybody if they asked…and i’d want to watch them hear…see their reaction to the cackles, chortles, chuckles, wheezes and such, following any silly thing we hear, say, and then rehash.

it really is just laughter…merriment…mirth…glee…a simple thing, not a requirement to the livelihood of some…but effortless and true…without malice or judgment…it’s a necessity for me.

the fact that the grands laugh just as hard the rest of us makes it sweeter…they’ve probably experienced things throughout their lifetimes that nobody should have, but they made us anyway & protected us for just these moments…

 i recharge my battery when i’m home with them & bring it all back to my life away from them…bottled up…sharing it all with everyone who amuses me…or needs amusing…and at some point, my mouth opens and they hear my family without knowing…and they laugh like us too.

all because…

**originally posted 1/07**

…eyes are as open as my heart is now…vision is clear & all I see is good…sight is now focused as it has never been before…strength-returning…the future, within reach again.

…soul is singing to music from the sun & the stars…the pitch of our melody-perfect, as it’s carried on the wind for miles…those like us hear it, recognize, & hum along with a smile as they make their way back home to what they have.

…spirit is lifted, shining, warming everyone around me. the truth of what I feel, evident as it resonates from inside, louder & brighter all the time. I grow more everyday, as does what’s swirling within me.

…thirst for life is heightening, beyond the bounds of loneliness & doubt…desire for everything, now multiplied by two! …feelings-mutual…source of untouchable power that knows no limitations…direction I’m heading-everywhere I want.

…difficult is doable…pain-tolerable, losses are lessons, fears-fleeting…

i’m supernatural

…because you love me.

my aim

**originally posted 11/06**

 

I look for you when I’m dancing on clouds & there’s music in my heart

Because when I smile, you should too.

I come to you when I’m angry

Because you calmly put my world and troubles into perspective,

Like no one else can.

I search you out when I’m afraid

Because you hold me & let me know that there’s nothing to fear.

And I feel your love protecting me.

 

My resolve is strong as I make my way.

At times, I run with everything in me—

Running so hard that I fully expect to lift my feet & fly into your arms.

I push thru the rough times,

Carving a path that you’re proud of when you see—

Because you know it was difficult & that I meant every step.

Thru it all, you are my target, my goal…my reward.

Thru everything, my aim is you…

come to me…

**originally posted on 11/06**

 

When time spent has been blissful, carefree, and my cheeks are sore from smiling, at the end of my day, you are there–I feel you beside me.

 

When the sky is overcast and I find myself staring into my favorite shade of blue-gray, you are there, watching with me as sunshine and brilliant rainbows peek thru the deepest clouds.  You listen with a smile and your arm is around me as I tell you for the thousandth time, “I wish it could stay like this forever. . .”  And later that night, when the air is warm and stormy, the rain awakens me.  Thunder resounds and my senses are heightened, aching for any sign of you. I feel you then—you come to me.

 

Oftentimes, when I’m snapped back to reality by a passing car, or awakened unwillingly from the deepest dreams of us, I look around, reaching for you, swearing that you were just laughing with me, looking into my eyes, wrapped around me, inside me.

 

There are nights when hurt squeezes my body and worry takes my breath.  You are there, calming me, whispering in my ear as you envelope me in your arms—I feel you–you come to me.

 

My mind understands that you’re not here, but my heart takes you everywhere I go.  Empty spaces around me are filled with you.  Hell for me is life without you.

Come to me now.  Explain to me one last time why the world is worth knowing if you’re not here with me.

 

‘08 stuff

**the following was written just before this past new year’s holiday…but not completed at the time due to a death in my family on the day that i wrote it…still don’t know that it’s completed now–i had actually totally forgotten about it…but when i found it, i thought i would go ahead & post anyway…enjoy**

————

so last year around this time, not wanting to fall into that age-old trap of listing a ton of resolutions i knew i’d never adhere to, i instead made a list of things that i absolutely would NOT do in ‘08, thinking i’d have better luck sticking to my assertions this way…yet again, i failed beautifully.

i thought maybe this year, i’d just recap…or rehash, as my friends often say and do–with no expectations for my year ahead—and see how that goes.   if i’d created this web page earlier in the year, i’d have more documentation to sift thru from all of the past 12 months in order to list like, my favorite moments of the year…but due to my stubbornness & silly fears & reservations about putting my thoughts down, I’ve pretty much only captured the last 6 months here (the first 6 months could pretty much be summed up with one word…or one relationship, as the case may be…amazinglynecessarilybeautifullysoul-searchinglyheavenly…enuff said there).  impossible to recall every moment that…struck me…in some way…without heavy prodding and/or visual stimulation, so here’s a random list of things from ‘08 that i actually did/do remember…for 1 reason or another…

–broken bones
despite a lifetime of clumsiness & masterful accident-prone-ability, this was something i’d managed to avoid before this year. playing football has its perks…but multiple weeks in a half-ton ski boot humbled the crap outta me. i am NOT the superwoman (and by super, i mean ‘able to cause amazing accidents involving other people, while stealthily avoiding serious injury to my own person’) that i thought i was…

–rock & roll hall of fame
visiting this place was an experience that inspired me–as i viewed various famous-people artifacts & soaked up a ton of trivial info about them, i was amazed at how much a single person can accomplish thru music in a lifetime–either as a solo artist or as part of a band–& how these things can affect millions, the world over…so much that even a smelly boot or elastic from underwear they wore at any point in their life can be worth something to somebody, somewhere who never met them or even saw them in person. for this reason, i’ve decided that rather than discard them, from now on, i’m saving one from each pair of sneakers that i own & have begun storing them in an undisclosed closet at my mom’s house–i don’t have the space for that kind of crap at my place…she has no idea how profitable this will turn out to be for her…she’ll love me for it i think…i think i’ll leave it a surprise for her for now…

–babies
this past year, my family was blessed with 2 new babies–the first was born to my tiny first cousin (who will ALWAYS be little Le-Le to me! )…amazing how quickly you can go from carrying around & loving on a cute little kid to doing the same to that kid’s cute little kid.
about 2 weeks later, my little sister had the second baby to steal my heart last year–making me an aunt (and professional baby photographer) for the first time. i don’t think i’ve ever kissed a dimpled cheek so much in my life…gotta get him as much as i can now–before he realizes how NOT cool i am and learns to ‘toddle’ away from me…or before he’s strong enough to overcome the kissing-choke-hold i’m practicing in preparation for his teenage years…i’m just saying…he’s gonna be a big boy…but this auntie will always get her kisses!!

–blogging
besides being one of the best (cheapest & most convenient) ways of recording some of the ridiculous things i’m lucky enough to experience, i actually have the opportunity to incite feedback from the people who were there, or those who don’t understand why anyone was, which is always fun.  there’s now a spot in the world (wide web) that’s totally mine, accessible from anywhere at anytime, by anyone,  where you can find all or most of  the people & things i care about…along with a few random thoughts & opinions about…whatever…amazing.

–discovering  the difference between the blogging i’ve come to embrace and writing with a purpose. 
a couple of years ago, i began writing a random story.  i would pull it up whenever i got bored or sad and change the wording or add a sentence or two whenever the mood hit me…some time passed and i probably had about 10 pages down before i realized that it could actually lead to something more…something interesting…something entertaining. i let a few close people read what i had so far, and their encouragement and questions about what will happen with the characters next have me feeling compelled to answer. i’m still working on this story today with plans of completing it and possibly publishing it within the next year. i now have the desire to become a published novelist…and it feels great. sometimes i lose focus…motivation…other times, i’m obsessed to the point that i can’t concentrate on anything else…to finish it though, is the first real goal i’ve had in some time…i must now & i will.

 –bonfires
as stated in an earlier post–who knew sitting outside around a fire in the cold with a great group of people & cake & hot dogs could be so much fun. i definitely plan on doing more of this…if there’s gonna be cake. =))

–golf
i golfed more in the past 12 months than i have in my whole life…dunno why it took me so long to realize it could be so much fun.  i’m guessing a lot of the enjoyment comes from golfing with folks who are awesome at the game, yet
1) patient enough that they don’t mind how many times i miss the ball altogether before getting a shot off…i only do this when i’m not warmed up or something. (yeah…right) =\
2) are cool enough to climb a tree in the middle of the course in their snazzy golf gear, just because we think the picture would be funny…
3) are able to hold back guffaws and only snicker quietly as they watch me fall in a sandtrap (am not making this up)
i’ve even mastered the art of not looking so shocked when i take a swing that looks right and sends the ball sailing in the correct direction…THAT’S hard.

–england
no, i’ve never been there, but a good friend spent a few months there this year & filled me in on summa the goings-on. she dispelled lots of ignorant myths about the place…and confirmed a few things for me too (see below). she’s terribly funny & was nice enough to answer every stupid question i asked. i got to see awesome pics from her day-to-day, and even a few from stonehenge…felt like i was right there!!

a few excerpts from our emails (my questions & responses are pink, hers blue..):

do those folks over there celebrate thanksgiving? Nope, I had to work Thursday and Friday. you’re a freakin’ amurkan!!  i woulda started a petition for you to have those days off if i’d had advanced notice of the fact that they’re slave drivin’ ya over there.  ‘days never finished, massa got me workin’

 is their beer served warm? No, thank goodness….but no Miller Light or Bud Light anywhere….or Ranch dressing…ranch dressing smells like feet anyway…no big loss there.  No you didn’t!  next you’ll be saying you don’t like bbq sauce or hot sauce!  If you do, I’m coming over there!

and seriously, sum up the ‘dental’ situation over there–are the rumors true?  Not much dental insurance over here so you have to pay out of pocket…I see why they have a teeth situation.  Can’t see that anyone has ever worn braces…so lot’s o teef thrown in willy nilly…this made me laugh out loud.  The brits actually use the term ‘willy nilly’ and ‘tatty moggy’ whatever the hell that means…and they say ‘tick’ instead of ‘check’ and ‘bit’ instead of ‘part’….Typical lunch, ‘why, I only got a few of the best bits, where are all the good bits?’  o and ‘fortnight’…that’s a biggie…and ‘brilliant’ and ‘you’re a star’….they are just different…and very charming to listen to.

do they have a lunch time AND a tea time…or is tea with lunch?  Yes, they have lunch and tea…and they call dinner ‘Tea’ as well…Proper Tea is in the late afternoon and involves tea and scones and biscuits (cookies)…what the hell do they call biscuits then??  They don’t have biscuits, they have scones…which are really dense hard biscuits….if they ever had a real biscuit they would never go back to scones.is the term “iced tea” offensive to them?  Iced tea is an anomaly that they cannot understand….hahahahahaha!!!

 what’s a good dessert there?  Spotted dick.  *GASP*

are there more nekkid people & dead bodies on their tv programs?  They say the F word and you do see much more nakedness over here…sweet!!! you see lots o butt cheek…even in the commercials.

when their babies cry, does it sound like “whaaaaaa” like our babies or do they say something like “eeeeeeww” instead?  Have yet to meet a baby…but I’ll let ya know if I do…

what’s something that you/we do regularly that they just don’t understand?  We don’t travel like they do…we’re arrogant and obnoxious, mainly cause we rock!  I’m not helping the stereotype at all.  I say, ‘Ma’am’ all the time to be polite and I keep getting, ‘stop calling me ‘ma’am’ I’m not the queen!’  What I wasn’t ready for is how damn rude people are over here….old lady scraped my ass big time with her ‘trolley’ at the grocery store….i got nothing!  No, oops, or sorry, mostly just got the, ‘you should get your big ass up out the aisle before I hit it again’ look.

 …i could share more…but as i don’t want to annoy or offend any more Brits today, i’ll stop it there.  besides, you get the idea–bottom line (hehe, i said bottom) i thoroughly enjoyed my friend’s trip to england & hope she travels again at some point…and let’s me tag along then too…it doesn’t cost me a dime.  =))

i grew & learned quite a bit in the last 12 months…the thing i’m noticing is that as i grow older, i’m so much more aware of the lessons from each experience…and i retain them now–that’s a pretty cool thing.  despite any failures, and/or because of them, my year was awesome & there are lots of people who share responsibility for that…and at this very moment, i find myself more grateful than i’ve ever been.

if your new year is half as cool as my last…you’ll be one lucky sunuva—

…back in the day.

i ‘member:

when stamps used to cost $0.19.

when we played outside for hours at a time.

exchanging valentine’s cards with the whole class.

swimming at ‘the rec center.’

‘pony’ sneakers.

‘jordache’ sneakers.

having ‘real’ pen pals.

fraggle rock.

my HUGE hair.

school dances.

taping songs off the radio.

napping on the school bus…and in school…and before band rehearsal and basketball practice…i was a tired kid. (nothing’s changed.)

scoring a basket for the opposing team in a kiddie-league. (and that pretty much sums up my entire atheletic career on into adulthood)

chicken pox…thanks again for sharing, mikey.

jherie curls…still ‘all the rage’ in some geographical locations.

now & laters and nerds.

the show ’solid gold’ and how ‘dance fever’ was my great-grandmother’s favorite show ever.

pizza or chicken patties w/chocolate milk in school.

field day.

4-square & kickball.

playing with that parachute during p.e. (i enjoyed this wayyy more than i’d like to admit)

being ‘the lookout’ while my friends fought in the bathroom after lunch that one time…lol.

substitute teachers.

asking p. gonzalez in 4th or 5th grade how to say my name in spanish…jeez.

being taller than 7′ 11″ d. elliott in elementary school. =)

when it was ok to wear hi-water pants–not that i ever did…ahem.

holding hands at a movie the first time…coincidentally, this was also the day i was strapped into my first training bra…and for the record, i did NOT think ‘ernest goes to camp’ was occasion enough to warrant such drastic & embarrassing measures!

when thursdays were the best nights for tv.

atari.

getting a new pair of cowgirl boots every year for my birthday as a child.

smoky the bear.

when my fireman/former air combat medic brother would put together routines to music–on roller skates–with our cousin. (hahahahaha!!) they had lifts & everything.

how the same little brother used to scream, cover his head, and run inside when jets would fly overhead. =)

he-man.

she-ra.

‘captain kangaroo’, ‘mister rogers’ neighborhood’, ‘the electric company’, ‘today’s special’, ‘the little rascals’, and ‘the three stooges’.

nickelodeon…’double dare’ was my fave, with ‘you can’t do that on television’ coming in at a close second.

waking up on saturday mornings, just for the awesome cartoons…back when cartoons were just for kids.

‘fat albert’ and ‘the brown hornet’

staying up all night and into the morning playing super mario brothers during the summer.

dance lessons.

piano lessons.

barely grazing that one hurdle during a middle school track meet, without falling down…nevertheless ending that part of my track & field career…i’m no idiot.

reading everything i could get my hands on as a kid.

sally jesse raphael & geraldo rivera.

receiving my first cd–’arrested development’ — 3 Years, 5 Months & 2 Days in the Life Of…

my first cd purchase–’en vogue’ — funky divas

saying the ‘pledge of allegiance’ every morning–in school . (at home, we sang negro spirituals instead).

church every sunday, usually followed by a ’singin’.

all the really dangerous things we did regularly as kids–these sissy-wimps today wouldn’t have stood a chance.

bungee jumping during a torrential downpour, while my family watched-awesome.

motown records blasted throughout the house on saturday afternoons.

drinking water from the hose, back when we were allowed to use water freely, without being fined.

waking up at my grandparents house in the country on weekends and being able to walk around outside in nothing but my strawberry shortcake nightgown.

marching band…fondly…so?!

pep rallies.

falling down multiple times during school…almost always resulting in my mom leaving work early for a trip to the emergency room.

falling down during my aunt’s wedding. (i was the flower girl)

falling down at work & rolling into someone’s office…wait–that was like, last year–i just got carried away on the subject…

—anyway…if you deduced from reading this that i’m a bra-hating klutz who’s horrible at sports, crazy about her brother, and nostalgic about childhood saturdays, you’re right.
what do YOU remember?

…where was she running to with so much determination?

picture this:
2 brave friends, nic & zu, locked in an empty room to face a common foe…a fiesty, rubber ball.
the game: racquetball.
the object: scoring? nope. pesky rules? nope. having fun while defending ourselves against a deadly opponent out to kill us both?  yep.
backstory: so, i’ve got this vacation coming up…to someplace warm…soon…and i’m doing all i can to get myself into some kinda shape.  i mean, physically, i seriously could improve what i’m seeing…but more than that, i just wanna be active enuff in the coming weeks to feel a little better about myself as i depart for some time in the sun with all my girls…minus 1. i play outside a lot during the spring & summer, but it’s a little harder to find something to do inside  that keeps my attention long enuff to keep it up during the winter.
this brings me to the one activity that i’ve recently decided to attempt & judging from our 1st time out, i may not survive ’til spring…but i’m perfectly willing to try.  just a couple of reasons why this is probably a bad idea:

1…within 5 minutes of strenuous stretching, i decided i was ready to test the strength of my swing. while standing approximately 4.5 feet from the wall i gave the ball a bounce & with a swing of my racket with my left hand, i connected with the ball perfectly…the most beautiful sound followed as the ball smacked against the wall & then quickly exacted its revenge by catching me in the right armpit unexpectedly, knocking me off balance & adding an odd ‘tickle’ factor to the death-defying danger of the whole situation…and thus was the tone for the night.

2…i was astonished each time zu dived during the course of that hour…not to make a shot, mind you, but to dodge the ball altogether, as if it were a bullet, only to scramble after it as she realized she was actually supposed to hit it before it touched the floor again.

3…my favorite scene of the night was of zu running from the nearest side of the room to the far side with so much purpose, focused on something…as the rubber demon enters the scene from the right & tags zu in the ribs as she yelps with total surprise–she never saw it coming…where was she running to with so much determination? and how do you lose complete sight of the ball like that? who knows…but i would pay  for the opportunity to see that again.

4…there was actually a bit of a volley going where the choices zu & i were making appeared to make sense when suddenly, in the midst of play, the ball disappeared completely…zu & i stopped & looked at each other…both confused…me the most, because the ball turned up beneath my right heel…a feat that i’m sure has never been accomplished with so much grace & dignity during a game of racquetball EVER…i’m SURE of it!

i laughed so incredibly hard the entire hour we played because the ridiculous moments were SO ridiculous that i really should go ahead & apologize to the people who actually play this game by the rules & look halfway decent doing it…i am sorry…sort of.
my goal is to keep a sort of log of our play though & maybe show a little improvement along the way…but there are NO guarantees. besides, if we didn’t look how we look playing, YOU pros wouldn’t look so good!  …you’re freakin’ welcome!!!

Dorothy Love Davis (1924-2008)

you were this family’s rock, my mom’s best friend, and everyone’s inspiration.  you were a wonderful example of how to treat people…how to listen…most importantly-how to pray, even throughout your final days. 
you laughed and cried whenever appropriate…ever the perfect lady, loyal and loving your entire life.  you always had the best advice-my mom can vouch for that (smile)…you got her thru some pretty rough times (thank you). 
when you smiled, the person who caused it felt like they had really accomplished something…like they had done a wonderful service…and they had…because your life wasn’t always the easiest…so smiling sometimes may have been a little more work than…not.
your house was always warm & inviting. you offered everything from the tastiest foods to crafts made by your own little hands…full of love & discipline…just because you wanted to–not because anybody had to ask.
you suffered silently & didn’t complain…you fought instead, with all the strength that you could muster until you left the world as quietly & gracefully as you had lived your life…leaving everyone lost without you…but better because of you.
your family was always your first priority-we are ALL privileged to have known you, been loved by you, and those of us who were lucky enough learned from you…thank you for showing us how we’re all meant to live. we could all be better…and if for no other reason than ‘you’…we all should be better.
thank you ‘lil ma-maw’ –i will make you as proud of me as i am of you.
…and you will never be forgotten.

thanks (to many)

here’s what i know:
if someone flies in from out-of-state for your birthday…
or if you’re invited over to someone’s house for drinks on a school-night…
and they show up for a late dinner downtown with 10-or-so other people that same night & laugh the entire way thru an average dinner with terrible service just because you asked them to…
or they coordinate a birthday party at your favorite bowling center to bowl multiple games & eat a cake with a picture of your face plastered on it…
and cheer you on while you bowl a lifetime high 226…
or they let you bring people with you to traipse about their property for no good reason…
or meet you out at midnight to celebrate your birthday, and dance the night away…
or volunteer to be your d.d…
or bake your favorite desserts for you…
or take you to an awesome basketball game…
or to an IMAX movie…they might care about you a little.
people are busy…lots to do…
time is precious…so remind them constantly that they are too.

thank you all for everything that you did & do, and i’m blessed to have you in my life.

thanks (to one)

i just wanna say this is the best birthday i have ever had…and that you are the biggest part of why i say that. i wanna tell you that time in my world stops and the sun shines brighter when you’re with me. i need to tell you that i laugh the hardest when it’s because of you and the feeling lingers long after i’ve stopped because i love you so much. i wanna ask you how it feels to know that you’re the most important person in someone’s life and that they don’t ever wanna experience their world without you in it again. i wanna express my excitement to you about how much we’ve done together in such a short time, and talk to you about how my expectations of our future together bring smiles to my lips daily because i know that you want everything for us that i do…and as badly too.
we just spent an entire week together for the first time ever. in that week, you visited my hometown, met my family, bowled with me, got up early for me, slept late with me, allowed me to cook you breakfast & dinner, and you ate every bite; you sang with me and for me, danced with me, ate too much birthday pumpkin roll, birthday cake, and birthday cobbler with me; Christmas shopped and exchanged gifts with me, saw John Legend with me, took me to my first IMAX movie & watched 5 others with me; ‘picumented’ my birthday party, kept me warm every night, held my hand everyday, squeezed me constantly for no good reason, and told me i was beautiful until i almost believed it…i’m still working on that…and i appreciate your patience with me in the meantime.
i just wanna say that you’re the best gift i’ve ever received…and the one i’ll always cherish the most…
you’re the thanks i offer at the end of every prayer, and my proof that they’re answered.
that’s all…i just wanted to say…today.

you just never know

say you have this one friend whom you’ve always sort of admired. from what you can see, she’s uber-intelligent & successful–both personally & professionally. she’s knowledgeable, cultured, & very well traveled. this friend is always really busy so you hardly ever get to see her, but when you do, she always has a hug & a laugh waiting for you. this friend is so cool that whether you ever say it or not, you’re probably a little intimidated by her.
so you find out recently that when this friend has had any spare time over the years, she’s sung in a band of fun-loving, talent-filled neuro-veterinarian super people. you’re invited to hear them perform at an unbelievable house on a lake one saturday night.
you get there, you eat a lot, you drink a little, you’re introduced to all her impressive, yet warm friends & band mates. you enjoy yourself immensely before the band even starts to play.  then the time comes for you see her perform. you’re sooo proud of all the talent you’ve heard of, but are only just now able to witness for yourself…what’s your favorite part of the night?  when this distinctive & sophisticated friend sings the hinges off the bluesy song “meet me with your black drawers on.” and what do you do while she belts it out? you dance.

7 days to go…and i’m scared.

i think i’m scared that he won’t win.
or maybe, i’m scared that he will win, but he–and by extension, his race, rather than his political party–will then be ripped to shreds for every decision he makes as president.
i’m afraid for his family.
i’m angry about the fact that no matter who wins, everyone can’t anyway…because not everyone has the interests of the entire country as a whole at heart…because we’re all not the same, despite having the same basic needs, and entitlement to the same basic rights.
i’m bothered by the fact that no matter who wins, some of the most basic of my  rights will still not be determined by my actions towards others. they will instead, continue to be decided in courts by strangers who are allowed to tiptoe around applicable commandments at any given time, while standing on the foundation of a verse that says i’m an abomination, as they continue to ignore the verses that explain why (if interpreted with the same fervor) they’re in just as much trouble as i’m in, if only because of their own love lives, the foods that they consume, or their judgment of me as they’re gulping it all down.
i’m scared about the lengths to which the angriest of us will go in order to create fear and division…all in the name of their religion…when it’s clear that they lost sight of theirs the second they began their tirade.
but i’m proud too…
i’m proud of the fact that those of us who seem to be judged the most harshly in these instances appear to show the most grace. i still shake my head in wonder at the fact that some still use the label ‘the angry left’ for one political party…while the blatant extremists from theirs are the ones you’ll find yelling and screaming hateful things at rallies about a man who is simply exercising the rights that he and those before him have earned…when we all know those rights should’ve been extended to them in the first place, and then not questioned after the fact.  how dare he and his wife work hard for a decent life for their family…and then have the audacity to reach further politically than anyone else of their race ever has…who gave them the right?  the point is: they have that right along with plenty of other upstanding (and not so upstanding–term used loosely to reflect various past and present members of congress) citizens.
i’m proud of all the people who are voting for ideals and beliefs, rather than a skin color…but even those who are voting for a color get their props for voting at all…i’m proud of them for caring enough.
i’m proud to be a witness to these extraordinary times, regardless of the outcome of this particular presidential election.
and i’m proud that someone somewhere, who’s nothing at all like me, can read this and (whether they agree or disagree) can respect me…as well as any other decent, self-respecting person who gives a damn about anyone outside their own family, their race, or their religion without judging them because of their differences. if more people could have that same respect for others, i wouldn’t be nearly as scared as i am today…and i’d have more to be proud of.
compassion for others…seriously, it’s easier than you think…and cheaper than food or gas, no matter who’s president.

a story

a story you say? you want me to tell you a story. let’s see…there are lots floating around in my head…i guess i could tell you about the silly girl who loved a lot: she loved people and she loved life and she shined brightest when she was around the people she loved the most. she spent all her time laughing and being laughed at, and she was good with it all. as she got older, she experienced a couple of relationships that dimmed her a little…but she was able to get past them completely when she met the person who made her shine brightest of all. this person represented every happy dream the silly girl had ever had…every silly wish she had ever made…this person got every stupid joke the silly girl ever told, and validated every silly feeling the silly girl ever felt…yet, actually showed interest in more than just the silly girl’s ’silly’. and as time went by, the silly girl began to feel…more than silly. she felt…alive…mature…even beautiful…respected…and necessary. the now, ‘more-than-silly’ girl began to thrive, and blossom into the woman she was meant to be. she pledged her undying love and devotion to the one who saw every facet of her clearly and nourished all of her more than any other had before. they grew together, challenging and motivating each other, becoming closer and loving harder as time passed.  from what i understand, the two of them are on their way to becoming well-known authors/photojournalists, traveling the world and writing about their experiences…happy and silly…silly with happiness.
the end.

…a pretty good weekend.

rundown of my weekend (i’d call it a success)…

friday: rented movies after work…watched 3 of them before going to sleep (see below)…pathetic?! i think not!! some people actually LIKE doing that sort of thing.

saturday: great, early breakfast with one of the funniest people i know, at the coolest bakery in town…then grocery shopping at trader joe’s, followed by the best nap ever in the history of the world. woke up to get dressed in layers & layers of clothing for a bonfire-my first ever-at a friend’s house. soo much fun! ended up coming out of at least 2 of the 7 layers i was wearing–who would’ve ever guessed that a bonfire would actually be warm?! roasted hot dogs (not for myself), marshmallows, plates & forks, napkins…and any other paper goods i could find. i ate half a cake, and laughed lots & lots.
my 2 favorite lines from the night:
1) “you’re goin’ to hell on scholarship!!” (shot straight from the mouth of one…cool…chick)
2) (spoken by an adorable sliver of a person, no taller than 5′2″) “in my mind, i’m bigger than all you bitches!!”
really big fun.

sunday: slept very late…had a slice of leftover cake for breakfast. (who knew you could have the best cake you’ve ever tasted at a bonfire!? …then rushed to the theater to see a movie that had me weeping like a baby for about an hour.
a good friend and i saw ‘the secret life of bees.’ separate blog about this movie to follow.
after the film, we dried our eyes while laughing at ourselves & headed directly to our scheduled softball game with a few of the most fun & spirited special olympics athletes around. you can’t end your day any better than with those smiles and awesome attitudes.
yeah, if for no other reason than laughing with those kids while playing in the sun, my weekend was a success.

friday nite movie-fest:
movie 1: ‘all about us’ – indie, starring boris kodjoe…sweet movie about a couple attempting to make their dreams come true…while dealing with the realities & challenges of life itself.
movie 2: ‘finn’s girl’ – another indie about a single mother attempting to raise a very unruly 11-year-old daughter, who can’t seem to get past losing her other mother to cancer. abortion plays a primary role in this unconventional love story…worth watching again one day.
movie 3: ‘forgetting sarah marshall’ – actually made me chuckle more times than i expected. story about a man (jason segel) who’s world crumbled like dry cake in heavy hands when his girlfriend (kristen bell) leaves him for someone else. he goes on vacation to a place she’d mentioned while they were together…and guess who’s there…? he really is the funniest pathetic naked guy you’ll probably ever see in a movie. worth a watch…if you can handle all the full frontals…

my sunshine

after the storm, she bounces around in the sunlight
relaxing, expanding, warm with feeling
cool with everything
good in the world
no fears, not alone…warm
she dances throughout the rays
sniffing the flowers
singing loudly, her own tune
of sunshine-worship
and farewell to loneliness
and heavy
and rumbles from others
are now the bass to her song
as she sings
basking, lighter, louder
happy, warm…
gliding flying
with a goofy smile on her face
she takes off 
with sunshine on her back.

back here…but still there

so, i’ve been back from vacation for awhile now, but still can’t get it off my mind. i’ve made a list of everything that made my time away wonderful…it’s sort of a blueprint for what all the rest of my vacations should consist of from now on…let’s see…there was:

frisbee/football in the park
an amazing play in an awesome theater
puppies
pizza
carrot cake
fried rice
wine
music
guitar hero
staying up late
getting up later
sunshine/awesome weather
doughnuts
manicures
good people
silly grabbing
barking
baked beans
the mall
godiva hot cocoa
henri bendel candles
grilled veggie burgers
dallas cowboys
stir-fried tofu
heroes
plasma tvs
broken dvds
toilet repair
morgan freeman
steve carrell
fun pics
love
laughter
kisses
midnight naps on the couch
squeezes
cuddles
snuggles
closeness
…except next time, i don’t want any goodbyes…
thanks for making everything a positive experience…

fun

…you can find it anywhere you want. and your idea of fun doesn’t have to match anybody else’s, or stop or start when anyone else thinks it should; nor does it have to make sense to those lucky enough to witness it, or the poor saps who hear about it after-the-fact. there’s also no age limit, no proper time of day for it, and no explanation necessary in the first place.
the trick is: surround yourself with people who get that.
…then maybe you too can hold your own version of olympic-caliber synchronized silliness. (and for the record, the three tenths of a point deduction we suffered during this rotation was not because the one in the middle was out of formation…it was instead because the 2 on the ends were ahead of the music…i’m sure of it.)

give & take

i offer an apology, a promise…a snack, a meal, a drink…a reason why there will be times when i know i’ll forget to think…a smattering of understanding, an iota of unselfishness, a path that takes the long way ’round, avoiding any mess…a bit of sugar from my lips to make soft or sweet the blow of heavy words that cut into the love we’ve come to know…my hope that we always bounce back to just before i said them, with you telling me you love me, in another slice of heaven.  offer your voice, your laugh, the way you joke, when you don’t even know i need it…and the feeling of adoration…you’re amazing in my eyes…believe it.
i offer you the heart you would’ve taken anyway, and the soul you give a song to sing every single day, if you’ll offer me the hand i love to feel, to watch, to hold…and offer me the strength i need to listen, learn, and grow.
i’ll offer me, you’ll offer you, we’ll accept us as we grow and learn together…and carve our path throughout this world, throughout this life…forever.

…because i have to.

so, i’m reading this book: The African-American Book of Values…Classic Moral Stories.
it’s sooo interesting…here’s a link with a review or 2: 
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/0385482590/ref=dp_proddesc_0?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books

one of the stories inside is called ‘New Black Scribe” by Terry McMillan (b. 1951). it grabbed me, in some way…like, every now & then, i come across something that reminds me i am…supposed…to write. even if you’re the last person who ever reads another line i put down…it’s just what i’m meant to do–not because i was taught how, picked it up quickly and did ok–but because i felt an overwhelming need to…capture and translate my tears on paper one day years ago…and when i did, it made sense, it made me lighter…it freed me forever.
i think this excerpt, describing her path to publishing, by an author i will forever admire, echoes my heart about what keeps me falling in love with words…and the memories/stories/history they weave…

NEW BLACK SCRIBE
Terry McMillan
…It wasn’t until after Malcolm X had been assassinated that I found out who he was.  I know I should be embarrassed about this, but I’m not.  I read Alex Haley’s biography of him and it literally changed my life.  First and foremost, I realized that there was no reason to be ashamed of being black, that it was ridiculous.  That we had a history, and much to be proud of.  I began to notice how we had actually been treated as less than human; began to see our strength as a people whereas I’d only been made aware of our inferiorities.  I started thinking about my role in the world and not just on my street.  I started thinking.  Thinking about things I’d never thought about before, and the thinking turned into questions.  But I had more questions than answers.
So I went to college. When I looked through the catalog and saw a class called Afro-American Literature, I signed up and couldn’t wait for the first day of class. Did we really have enough writers to warrant an entire class? I remember the textbook was called Dark Symphony: Negro Literature in America because I still have it. I couldn’t believe the rush I felt over and over once I discovered Countee Cullen, Langston Hughes, Ann Petry, Zora Neale Hurston, Ralph Ellison, Jean Toomer, Richard Wright, and rediscovered and read James Baldwin, to name just a few. I’m surprised I didn’t need glasses by the end of the semester. My world opened up. I accumulated and gained a totally new insight about, and perception of, our lives as “black” people, as if I had been an outsider and was finally let in. To discover that our lives held as much significance and importance as our white counterparts was more than gratifying, it was exhilarating. Not only had we lived diverse, interesting, provocative, and relentless lives, but during, through, and as a result of all these painful experiences, some folks had taken the time to write it down.
Not once, throughout my entire four years as an undergraduate did it occur to me that I might one day be a writer. I mean, these folks had genuine knowledge and insight. They also had a fascination with the truth. They had something to write about. Their work was bold, not flamboyant. They learned how to exploit the language so that readers would be affected by what they said and how they said it. And they had talent.
I never considered myself to be in possession of many of the above, and yet when I was twenty years old, the first man I fell in love with broke my heart. I was so devastated and felt so helpless that my reaction manifested itself in a poem. I did not sit down and say, “I’m going to write a poem about this.” It was more like magic. I didn’t even know I was writing a poem until I had written it. Afterward, I felt lighter, as if something had happened to lessen the pain. And when I read this “thing” I was so shocked because I didn’t know where the words came from. I was scared, to say the least, about what I had just experienced, because I didn’t understand what had happened.
For the next few days, I read that poem over and over in disbelief because I had written it. One day, a colleague saw it lying on the kitchen table and read it. I was embarrassed and shocked when he said he liked it, then went on to tell me that he had just started a black literary magazine at the college and he wanted to publish it (the poem). Publish it? He was serious and it found its way onto a typeset page.
Seeing my name in print excited me. And from that point on, if a leaf moved on a tree, I wrote about it. If a crack in the sidewalk glistened, surely there was a poem in that. Some of these verbose things actually got published in various campus newspapers that were obviously desperate to fill up space. I did not call myself a poet; I told people I wrote poems.
Years passed.
Those poems started turning into sentences and I started getting nervous. What the hell did I think I was doing? Writing these little go-nowhere vignettes. All these beginnings. And who did I think I was, trying to tell a story? And who cared? Even though I had no idea what I was doing, all I knew was that I was beginning to realize that a lot of things mattered to me, things disturbed me, things that I couldn’t change. Writing became an outlet for my dissatisfactions, distaste, and my way of trying to make sense of what I thought was broken. It later became the only way to explore personally what I didn’t understand. The problem, however, was that I was writing more about ideas than people. Everything was so “large,” and eventually I had to find a common denominator. I ended up asking myself what I really cared about: it was people, and particularly African-American people.
The whole idea of taking myself seriously as a writer was terrifying. I didn’t know any writers. Didn’t know how you knew if you “had” it or not. Didn’t know if I was or would ever be good enough. I didn’t know how you went about the business of writing, and besides, I sincerely wanted to make a decent living. (I had read the horror stories of how so few writers were able to live off of their writing alone, many having lived like bohemians.) At first, I thought being a social worker was the right thing to do, since I was bent on saving the world (I was an idealistic twenty-two years old), but when I found I couldn’t do it that way, I had to figure out another way to make an impact on folks. A positive impact. I ended up majoring in journalism because writing was “easy” for me, but it didn’t take long for me to learn that I did not like answering the “who, what, when, where, and why” of anything. I then–upon the urging of my mother and friends who had graduated and gotten “normal” jobs–decided to try something that would still allow me to “express myself” but was relatively safer, though still risky: I went to film school. Of course what was inherent in my quest to find my “spot” in the world was this whole notion of affecting people on some grand scale. Malcolm and Martin caused me to think like this. Writing for me, as it’s turned out, is philanthropy. It didn’t take years for me to realize the impact that other writers’ work had had on me, and if I was going to write, I did not want to write inconsequential, mediocre stories that didn’t conjure up or arouse much in a reader. So I had to start by exciting myself and paying special attention to what I cared about, what mattered to me.
Film school didn’t work out. Besides, I never could stop writing, which ultimately forced me to stop fighting it. It took even longer to realize that writing was not something you aspired to be, it was something you did because you had to.

olympians

here’s what i’d like to try:
an ounce of their strength, a surge of their power,
an hour of their flight, a third of their beauty,
a pint of their appeal, an iota of their confidence,
a pound of their discipline, a bit of their talent,
an inkling of their spirit, a touch of their soul,
an inch of their genius, a taste of their hunger,
a bite of their pride, a drop of their urgency,
a second of their drive, a sliver of their foresight,
a pinch of their heart, a glint of their amazing,
a blast of their speed, an ounce of their strength,
a flash of their glory.

sparks vs. the flame

…so just to revisit a discussion from earlier today…i asked which you prefer–the sparks or the flame.  remember? i told you that EYE prefer the sparks.  you first chose the flame.  i explained my definition/gave examples of what equates ’sparks’ to me:
my first example had to do with a particular night we shared…the slow beginning of the end of it…soft kisses…words whispered…wanting…moving…building up to the ‘flame’, which i described as ‘varying in temperature all the way up until’ the embers smoldered as we slept.
more examples of our sparks…to a lesser degree:
the little things like subtle touches while we walk and while we eat together closely, in our own little bubble…how our hands always seem to find each other, without us ever having to think about it…(ever notice how it’s never just one hand? =)) i described it as ‘magnetic, warm and subconsciously deep’. during this last visit, we had sparks throughout every day, with a few fiery looks sprinkled in for good measure. then, the actual flames at night…
i smile as i remember that it was at this point in the conversation that you changed your preference from ‘the flame’ to ’sparks’…and added examples of your own:
me napping in your lap, us jumping waves in the ocean, playing on the beach, the theater, standing close, speaking softly, with sharks swimming over our heads (we did a lot in a very short time, huh?), sharing food, watching each other…
yeah, we’re definitely ’sparks’ people…the flame is just the icing on the cake…
i love you.

ok

the beauty of it is:  i always feel ok…well maybe not always feel ok, per se, but even when things are ‘iffy’ and there doesn’t seem to be a way out of the conversation/situation that’ll be favorable to both…i still feel ok.  it’s kind of like knowingly having all the resources for any given situation, whether you’ve ever been in that particular position or not…you don’t give in to worry because you know you’re equipped with all the tools to work your way thru it.  it’s like knowing that your favorite dessert, in the perfect sized serving will be waiting for you at the end of every meal you have…or an impending thunderstorm at the end of a long, hot, busy day when all you want is your own space, with a cool breeze wafting thru open windows and your privacy. 
no matter how much we dread the particular discussion, or the outcome of it, we know that we’re both willing to work at it until it’s all ok.  until we both feel better.  better doesn’t always come immediately, but it’s always within sight…always within our grasp. i never doubt that ‘ok’ is right…there.

now? please?

can i have some of that thing you do? you know–the one thing that leads to the other stuff that i want so badly i can feel it all before you start. how ’bout giving me a little of that one sensation that i crave more than anything…well, anything except for your arms around me…after. truth is, i dream about you when i’m wide awake, the vision of your lithe form not even close to the reality of the touch, the warmth, the taste of you when you’re really here with me. i want you, even when i’m late & rushing…listening & laughing…working & playing. my body responds to things i want to feel from you, but haven’t yet…but i know i will. and when i do, you’ll know exactly how hard it’s been for me to wait, to do without…you…here…

let it out (not THAT)

i was talking to a friend of mine about blogging yesterday.  she says there’s too much going on in her head to be able to really focus her thoughts or slow them down long enough to put words together anywhere.  it made so much sense, her reason for…not. i’d bet there are sooo many people who feel exactly the same.
for me though, it’s when i’m feeling ‘all over the place’, and heavy and unfocused that i seem to want to scribble more. i was telling her, it doesn’t have to be a long, drawn out thing. it can be one sentence…just a few key words to sum up your day. like any given day, i could write something like, “i should’ve checked in with my family today.” then, as sure as i put down those few words, my heart speaks up and my brain takes down notes. suddenly, there’s an explanation there on the page that i couldn’t have come up with before i started. by the time i’ve finished, i’ve worked out in my head that i most likely haven’t called because my great-grandmother’s back in the hospital & calling would mean i would hear that she hasn’t improved…and about how sad my mom is.   and where last week, she fought tooth & nail against being put into a rest home…this week, she’s given up, begun telling the family she’s tired & ready to go, & probably won’t see the inside of her house ever again.
not releasing these thoughts from my head in some way would leave me a ball of emotions for all to see & carry.
by the same token, i never explained to my friend that a blog doesn’t necessarily have to be heavy…and that she could get just as much satisfaction & release by writing about how one of her friends (a bad one) farted (a really bad one) on her other friend (the sweet one) in a public place for no good reason whatsoever. she could write about that. and while EYE don’t find it terribly funny (i’m the sweet one)…she might.

ain’t nuthin’ but a number…

i’m getting older.  i’ve heard that the older you get, the less you care about what people think of you or whose feelings you hurt.  in my family, that saying’s been used to defend the mean, but terribly funny great-grandmothers’ & grandfathers’ dreadfully honest outbursts when say, one of the aunts walks into the house wearing a floor-length, sequined dress on a saturday afternoon for no good reason. 
while i do still care a great deal about whether or not i hurt others…i speak up now.  my patience for idiocy is wearing thin, and i can feel it growing thinner by the second.  it seems that during this travel thru my 30s, i’m slowly making a transformation from ‘avoid-confrontation-at-all-costs’ nicki, to’ the ‘i’m-telling-you-you’re-an-idiot-for-not-knowing-better-nicki’ who’s becoming more like her grands, daily.
i wonder if it’s true that once you reach a certain age, you’ve pretty much earned the right to say whatever enters your mind, without a second thought…is 32 old enough…??

hall of famer?? i think not!

so, i visited the rock & roll hall of fame in cleveland awhile back for the first time ever. it was one of the coolest things i’ve ever done. there was so much to see and take in! i thoroughly enjoyed all the famous trinkets, cars, musical factoids and such. i learned lots while being taken thru eras and hairstyles that i’d heard of or had nightmares about, and then immediately blacked out of my mind until i was old enough to handle the trauma of seeing my childhood school pictures with my hair in just…those…styles…all of them.

the colorfully hazy, amplified jimi hendrix displays were probably the most interesting and visually stimulating…at times, i could like, smell a hallucination coming on but sobered up in the end, and left the place with only a new fascination with the man…the legend…his fashion–which brings me to the single, most important thing i learned on that visit about pretty much everyone who had clothing displayed there: those famous folks were/are tiny!! some of that clothing displayed looked like outfits yanked right off some school kids in a wizard of oz production, or from a mini star trek movie set. there were tiny michael jackson glitter-things…itty-bitty madonna pointy-stuff—you know, if my bones and muscles were half the size of a normal adult, i could stand on my tippy-toes and moonwalk, or bend and twist and yoga myself into super-human ‘fit-dom‘ too!!
i now understand exactly why it is that i’ve not yet become famous: standing 5′10″ and weighing roughly none-of-your-business, i’m just too big to be a famous rock star…and i don’t play music. i soo wish i had figured this out sooner–i wouldn’t have wasted all this time waiting to be discovered as i yell the words ‘pour some sugar on meeeeee!!!’ louder than everyone else, while playing air guitar, standing on the table at—nevermind. i now know why i haven’t been discovered, and why i’ll never be a famous rock star…that’s what’s important.

today’s definickisms

larger than life: someone who wanders into your life and has such an effect on you and/or your situation, that you know that by simply meeting them, you’ll never be the same again.

crazy luck: when that person volunteers to stay around…like, forever.

DOO-DOO-DOOT-TO-BEE-BOP-PEE-DOO: nic skatz

that’s crap: “i’m sorry, i don’t agree.”

yeah, so?!: “ok…you were right, and i was wrong.”

oh?: “seriously, i’m only listening to you to be polite.”

aww, precious lamb: “you poor dolt.”

that was a good story!:  “got any pancakes?”

too funny: “i’m sleepy.”

of course i’m listening: “nap time!”

movies that i would see again, but you prolly wouldn’t…

i am a movie fool!  i mean, i will watch just about anything.  where some people will walk out of a theater or stop a rented flick right in the middle because they feel it’s an utter waste of their time, i will plug thru it bored outta my mind, and in the end, be able to name at least 1 part of it that was interesting, or that made the whole horrible 1.5 to 2 hrs i spent watching a little easier to swallow.  bottom line:  pretty much every movie has a shot with me. 
i’ve put together a list of just some of the movies that will probably garner a few disapproving head shakes or confused stares for whatever reason–but the fact remains, i watched (most likely more than once) the whole way thru…despite my age and self-perceived level of intelligence…and would probably watch each of them again.

Spice World (…so?)

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (Some of Jim Carrey’s best work)

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls (Not nearly as good as the 1st)

Snatch (very funny movie…but most important 2 words–Brad Pitt)

Finding Nemo (Ellen was freakin’ awesome)
Smoking Aces (Something about Alicia Keys & Common)
Practical Magic  (I like Sandra Bullock & Nicole Kidman in this one)
Me, Myself, and Irene  (for some reason, the train scene with Renee Zellweger cracked me up!)
The Incredibles (Animated or not–great story, and plenty of smart adult humor)
The Family Stone  (While I couldn’t stand SJP’s character, the story was pretty touching)
Tap (Movie with Gregory Hines and Sammy Davis Jr. about tap dancing–I’ve practically memorized it)
Evan Almighty (Still confused about why critics bashed it…great movie)
Charlotte’s Web-2006 (Julia Roberts was perfect for this role!)
Pan’s Labrinth (Definitely different, but had to watch it twice before returning…still can’t figure out why…)
Peter Pan (2003 version–i found it enchanting)
Hook (Saw this in theater when it was released…still have no idea why the sight of Robin Williams in tights doesn’t disturb me more than it does…)
Finding Neverland  (Awesome movie with the ever-delicious Johnny Depp and Kate Winslet…beautiful story)
The Last Dragon  (Berry Gordy produced-music filled-chop suey-inspiring story of ‘Bruce Leroy’)
Purple Rain (yet another music-filled movie starring Prince…costarring his high-heeled boots & make-up…long live the ’80’s!)
Billy Elliott (Really good…funny, yet serious & entertaining)
The Long Kiss Goodnight (Geena Davis kicks ass all thru this flick and Samual L. Jackson is awesome as her sidekick)
Center Stage  (Lots of young, beautiful people dancing waayyyy better than they acted)
A League of Their Own  (I watch this every time it comes on tv…which is like, every weekend.)
Pleasantville  (Inexplicably, just a good movie to me)
Blue Crush (Horrible acting, but beautifully shot)
Queen of the Damned (the last movie role the beautiful Aaliyah would ever be cast in…R.I.P)
Van Helsing  (I have a thing for vampires & werewolves…and Hugh Jackman)
Catwoman  (I have a thing for cats and…nevermind)
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (…there’s a vampire in it.)
80 Steps to Jonah  (freakin’ Wayne Newton, 1969!!! …prolly haven’t seen this move in like, 25 years…but for some reason, I remember loving it…maybe I’ll rent…just to see what’s up with that)
The Learning Tree (Another movie from 1969 that I saw when I was very young…and it remains with me today…didn’t find out until about a year ago that it was directed by my hero, Gordon Parks.)
The Princess Diaries 1 & 2 (Am a very big Anne Hathaway fan)
The Devil Wears Prada  (Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep is too funny)
Get Smart- ‘08 (Anne Hathaway, again..but also, I’m a huge fan of Steve Carell & Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson)

Be Cool (John Travolta is good, but Andre Benjamin stole the show for me)

Baby Mama (Amy Poehler is genius in this movie!)
The Princess Bride (Love story, classic)

There are soo many other movies that I could add…maybe I will later, but this is just a taste of the types of things I could be watching (but you prolly wouldn’t) on any given day…

notes to self (work)

never walk into a public restroom with your mouth open–i don’t care what cool person’s holding the door for you as they walk out–keep your lips closed & wave at them…or chance being greeted by remnants of the monster scent they left behind that will stick to your teeth ’til you can brush them again…seriously, sometimes it’s like, worse than your dad’s was when–nevermind.

never use just any coworker’s lotion–soon as you start slathering it on, you realize that they are the confusing smell lingering in the copy room that you could never figure out.

do not work out with coworkers at the gym if you’re sensitive to smell–you’ll never look at them the same again…

do not make ‘yucky face’ when you recognize the brown clogs that made a bee-line from the stall to the door of the restroom (bypassing the sink) after the flush, earlier that day.

do not make ‘yucky face’ again when you realize that ‘brown clogs’ brought in the cake your cube-mate is devouring after lunch…and do not smile about it either.

my tv makes me do it…

so, i was watching tv last night and (probably due the nature of the show that had me so engrossed) i decided that i’d finally admit that…my taste is a little different.  my list of shows ranges from dark documentaries to freakin’ cartoons…
i do get ribbed for some of my choices, but…do you think i care?!
i found a new show last night that reminded me soo much of ‘MXC’ (most extreme elimination challenge) that’s shown from time to time on the Spike network. MXC was a japanese game show that was dubbed over in english by a comedy troupe called ‘the groundlings’ who are based out of LA. they were sooo funny–like, the voice overs were often the best parts of the shows, coupled with the expressions of the brave (really?) souls who didn’t mind risking the one drop of ‘cool’ they had left in them by participating in such a crazy, dangerous, senseless episode of japanese tv for my entertainment…and for what, exactly? anybody know? i don’t think i ever found out what the prize was…but anyway, the show ‘wipeout’ that debuted on abc last night is sort of the same thing, but filmed here in the U.S. this show again pits mere mortals against nearly impossible physical challenges and a ridiculous obstacle course at the end for those who are lucky enough to make it that far. some of the funniest parts are when you can hear the contestants as they struggle thru the thing…some curse, some mumble incoherently, others establish a spiritual bond they never found the use for, until they began their approach to the ‘big red balls’ (yeah, ew).
hosted by John Henson (E!’s Talk Soup) and John Anderson (ESPN’s Sportscenter), you seriously can’t help but laugh…especially when Jill Wagner (fellow NC hot girl, and 3rd host) is laughing so hard, she can’t utter a word because of something a contestant has grunted while being bounced 15 feet into the air unexpectedly. but i’ve said enough…haven’t seen it yet? have a peek at yet another simple pleasure of mine:

last night’s episode was waayyy funnier than this preview, so i’m actually excited about the rest of the season. yeah, maybe it’s rude or silly to laugh at a few random folks brave (unfortunate, maybe?) enough to put their bodies and reputations on the line for a mere $50,000…but…sssso??!! blame my mom for introducing me to ‘double dare’ on nickelodeon all those years ago…was apparently just a seed…

my tv does show me things that are more mentally stimulating…i promise. will chat about them later…

more things i might like to know…

why i sometimes shove food into my mouth like i’m afraid someone is gonna try to steal it…why i sniff when certain types of people walk past me…why i hold my breath when other types walk past me…why your smell tastes so good to me…why i’ve now watched ‘high school musical’ 3 times…what it is about LL Cool J…why this is the 1st year i’ve ever watched the BET awards from start to finish…why i’ve never thought d.l. hughley was really all that funny…why i still really want envogue to get back together…why all my jeans fit differently every freakin’ time i put ‘em on(!)…what it is that folks see in lil’ wayne…seriously…why that ‘kiddie’ voice you do freaks me out…why i like jumping rope like i do…why i waited ’til i was 32 to start running for exercise…why i don’t admit more openly that gospel music is probably my favorite…why i don’t like curtains in my bedroom…why i love how ‘cool water’ smells, but would never wear it myself…if i’ll ever sing in front of a church again…why the football never spirals when i throw it…why i never watched dave chappelle…how alicia keys became so eloquently gangsta…why some people don’t seem to understand that when i say, “i’m allergic to your pet,” i’m not kidding…how those dudes keep their sagging jeans from falling around their ankles…how i survived for so long without an iPOD…why i hate cold weather, unless it’s snowing…how the heck i know the 2 correct answers i get each week on jeopardy…why rainbow sandals cost fifty freakin’ dollars…and why i pay it…why i wanna know.

vegas, huh…?

sooo…i’m a north carolina girl, born and raised.  while i’ve visited a few other states, i’ve only lived here. i’ve resided in a few different parts of the state, from western nc where i’m from, to the central part of the state, where i live now. i love it here and have never seriously considered living anywhere else.
since i moved to this particular area, i’ve felt that it’s the most ideal place for me at this point in my life. my family isn’t very far away, my friends are close…the weather’s awesome, i’m only a few hours from the beach or the mountains…i get to play all the sports i want (whether i’m actually any good or not)…which speaks to the thing i find that’s most important about this area–the people here are freakin’ awesome. everywhere i go here, i feel like i’m home–if i’m not mistaken, there’s actually a saying (or maybe it’s a song) associated with this state: i love calling north carolina home. …sickening, isn’t it? someone so happy to still be living where they’re from.
but…i’m starting to wonder now…
could my ‘happiness’ just be complacency? am i just content living here because it’s familiar? safe?
i’ve been posed with the question recently of whether or not i would move away from here…start over with someone. without ever feeling i had a reason to before…i find myself actually feeling tingles of excitement when i think about that possibility. my family would probably think i was crazy if i expressed this to them….but i know they would understand…my friends would understand.
i will flourish, i will succeed, i will do my part…for us. while i have jitters, i won’t worry. i know that if there was ever a perfect opportunity, a perfectly valid reason for me to try something/somewhere new, it is now…you…my one…my prize.
where ever you want to go, i will too. i can succeeed anywhere you are. and vegas sounds like a good place to start.

the letter

so, i’ve been asked if i had any questions about what happened with us.  up until now, i’ve said no, and that i had nothing else to say to you.  i felt this way because i was convinced that you’d remain closed off emotionally and would never open up about how you really, really felt, what your take is on everything that happened, or about any motives you may have had.  i can’t say that i’ve changed my mind…i’ve had no indications that i should…i’m thinking now of the questions my friends have about who you were then, and who you are attempting to be to them now.  i will continue to stay out of it, just asking that you mean everything you say to them, because by some measure they still tend to believe you, as it’s how we’re all sort of built…and why we have the relationships we have together.  be careful with them.
anyway, as i started writing this, it occurred to me that if you ever did come around, this is what i’d want to know:
did you intend to become all the things you said you already were, but then you got here and i proved to be too heavy for you emotionally?  or not what you wanted physically?  do you really feel like you were the open, affectionate, selfless person you described yourself to be and that maybe i was the one who was different than i described?   
i’ve just never seen someone become so…indifferent so fast, or create the change in me that you did.  i became a totally different person than i ever was, before you or than i have been since.  i actually really started to dislike myself at one point…so i can only imagine what you thought of me in the end…more than once, you called me judgemental & argumentative–two words that were never used to describe me previously…i’ll openly admit that when i was with you, i think i was at times…but as i’d never been that way before you, i maintain that i was just dealing with what i had been dealt, in a sense.  i truly hate that you ever had to see that side of me, no matter what my reasons were for being that way. 
i don’t want any apologies from you–that’s not what this is about.  i’m not even sorry it all happened–i don’t know that i’d have realized how blessed i am today, if not for the loss i felt when i realized that i had been in denial about what you and i had.  i painted the perfect picture, based on promises, of what we were supposed to be…when the truth was, it was all only preparation for the kind of love i was intended for…the kind of love i have today.
i hope you have found whatever it was you were searching for…whatever it was that i wasn’t…and that you’re genuinely happy.  i still don’t believe i ever saw you that way, no matter how hard i tried.
the best of wishes in whatever you do,

n