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.

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.

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 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…

…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.

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.

 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.

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.

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

…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…