Resolve

I'm fearing that I will have seen more snow in Africa than I do here this entire winter....they're saying maybe flurries by Friday but the temperatures just don't have me convinced. Last winter was rather pathetic without a single heap, and I just don't know how I'll be able to handle it again.  Snow can do wonders for my spirit - a freshness and renewing.  

I've never really understood the people who want to go somewhere tropical and warm for Christmas. It just doesn't seem to fit. I can't drink hot chocolate and hang ornaments and make Christmas cookies when its 65+ degrees outside. Without winter nothing would seem to move, nothing would seem new. And that's the marking on this time of year. Starting again.

photos via amodernhepburn and awelltravelledwoman.

Eyedrops

"Life should be something over which we weep." - Karey M. 

Her words are always so good, so appropriate when I come across them.  I've been weepy the whole week, possibly two and its seemingly getting worse. For things that are and things that aren't.

photo via awelltraveledwoman

The World Without

I've just about forgotten all about the kids this weekend. Its been nothing but the holiday on my mind, and then in a snap, seemingly, its over. Coming off a high.  I almost don't even want it to happen; even though my excitement is still that of an 8 year old...It's like  the anticipation is almost greater than the event because knowing that "this is it" leaves me a bit empty. We are in the midst of the holidays and I nearly turn into a different person at this time of year. This is MY time of year. I'm hopeful and inspired and thankful and invigorated and joyous. Then its gone. Le sigh....I keep thinking I should find a way to turn the bittersweet into sweetsweet, but then the sweet would possibly not be as sweet. 
And I just scored a pair of Tarheel basketball shorts on Ebay for $.99 so I guess it doesn't all have to be just about lights and fires and chocolate right now.

photos from themodernhepburn and awelltravelledwoman

Own It

"He got the brains, I got cooth, she........got courage."

But it only shoes up at certain times.  In fact, it even shows up sometimes when I don't want it to, and other times when I'm looking all over for it I can't even find a slither. But that slither just may sneak up on someone else and then uncoil, like a snake from an S curve. 

AND SO IT GOES

Sometimes, at really random moments, I find myself wondering what ever happened to someone I once crossed paths with. And it usually is just once. Like that guy from New Zealand who sat down next to me to smoke a cigar outside a cafe in Korea. Or that girl I met in a hostel in Ireland trying to attend Trinity College. What about that girl I went to school with for a bit or played basketball with for a bit way back when? And the guy who followed Jeremy and I around on our UK backbacking adventure...There are so many people I've met, officially or unofficially in my life. Maybe I needed them for just that moment or that time; maybe I was supposed to hang onto them longer and I didn't.  I'm not always sure, but I do wish to have another conversation with them. Not only do I want to hear about what the've been doing, but I have stories as well. I have things I've done since we last met, or first met for some individuals. Nontheless, the idea of reconnecting with someone who doesn't know you now and who may have know you very little then is somewhat attractive. But so often it seems we actually avoid these people. I find myself, and others, walking right by people I recognize and not saying a word.  I know they recognize me too because we make eye contact that says "Oh hey ... you...I'm going this way." We don't make eye contact for too long because then we'd have to give into it. And what if we did just look long enough that we had to say more? Something?

Past time and passed out

Sometimes I just have so much to do that I don't know what to do with it. I sure haven't kept up with it here. School, in particular, is kickin' my butt. Really, I'm spending a good, and overwhelming chunk of my time taking care of schoolwork. So much so that I started this entry a week ago and am just getting around to finishing it. I've done very little journaling, reading, or writing of my own which leaves me feeling a little lost.  I setting aside some serious time this weekend to get back into my element.

Turning

"What they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you're eleven 
you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven but you don't. You open your eyes and everything is just as it was yesterday, only its today.  And you don't feel eleven 
at all. You feel like you're still ten. And you are -  underneath the year that makes you eleven. 

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that's the part of you that's still ten. Or maybe 
some days you need to sit on your mama's lap because you're scared, and that's the part of you that's
five.  And maybe one day when you're all grown up you'll need to cry like you're three and that's okay.
That's what I tell mama when she's sad and needs to cry. Maybe she's feeling three. 

Because the way you grow old is kinda like an onion or the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That's how being eleven years old is.

You don't feel eleven.  Not right away.  It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you.  And you don't feel smart eleven, not until you're almost 12. That's the way it is." 


-Sandra Cisneros

E and Me

E has been a particular blessing lately. I don't get to spend as much time with him, which may have something to do with me finding humor and glee in everything he does. He has those big brown eyes, you know, the ones that are filled with curiousity and kindness. I'll be young forever, according to him.

One of these days I'm going to have to say goodbye to him; I've thought about it before but haven't had someone else drop the bomb on me. He's also the only one right now who seems completely peaceful and utterly stress-free. It's a complete turn-around from last year, and while everyone else is rocking my boat I'm just estatic about him.

Meantime

Well, hello there. All kinds of happenings have been happening. And when a lot of things are happening I'm not so good at keeping track of it all, mostly due to my emotions leaking out and I'm trying to wipe them up.  I get frazzled trying to keep up with things because, well, I have to keep up and sort out.

This past weekend I went to one of my little spots of solice and dropped in on Steph and Michael.  Their lives are so much crazier than mine that its not even comparable. Yet we still manage to lay around and eat and walk and watch movies and talk about everything we've ever talked about.  Most of the time, even with her third bun in the oven, its no different than ever been. Except for the fact that she has those two kids and isn't in St. Louis anymore.  The latter is a bit of a bummer but I do have a nice excuse to get away for awhile.
Everyone is back home and its strange. Because we're all adults and adults are different now that they've been through things. So some discoveries are taking place. And more excuses to get away are warranted.
One of those getaways, and I'm sure more to come, are just Pop and I and a round or three of drinks. All kinds of things come out when that stuff goes in. Just as Wickersham said "In wine there is truth", well, there is in beer too. Mostly, we bring up the things we love, and that really is lovely.

Rollercoaster

That's what it is when you start something new, right? Maybe not a new start, but a new year. Or at least a new school year. That counts for something, and I'm banking heavily on this being a new ride - however long it lasts. 



photo from modern hepburn

Rubble

It's taking me forever to force myself to write this. I've been avoiding it for the past week, and frankly kind of wish to continue doing so. Its coming out in bits and pieces; slices really. I filled an entire notebook in the month that I was there, but to come out with any of it to others has been somewhat painful.  Maybe it feels most like a pang or an ache, and it should because it reminds me of what is there.  The more I've been opening up the more the ache intensifies, yet it feels likes its getting some salve. Its a strange occurence. Heartbreaking and heart-soaring at the same time. And there are some things I still want to keep for myself and some things that will always hurt, but I also want to tell almost everyone. When I started talking about it the other day, someone said to me that my whole face lit up. That's a good thing to hear; for the first week I just didn't know what to do with myself and I'm still in that state a little bit.  I felt like there was more for me there than here.

My first day in Africa I heard, "You'll be back. This place gets in your blood." and is exactly how it feels. Like it just surged in and has been pulsating ever since.

I do know that I'll be back. I just don't see how I couldn't.  I'm searching for a way and a when, but something will bring me back. 

Up Up Up

Oh, summer! How I love and loathe thee simultaneously. For your endless days, and time to travel, and cold drinks, and....heat.  Why can't there be a summer where it never breaks 70 degrees or so? At this point I should be thankful in which way it comes I suppose. I'm cleaning up and freshing up and catching up; all those things you need time for and summer brings time.
And Africa is just around the corner. 

Lightbulbs

E often thinks of things I wish I would have thought of.  His mind is a little wheel, and so much seems to be going on in there I wonder what we would discover if he could actually get it all out. But last week he exteneded a peace treaty that squeezed my heart into slush.  In a perfectly folded piece of paper he explained to R the sadness experienced when he doesn't follow directions. Nonetheless, E reckoned, they could still be best friends.
How much more appropriate is that then a shout of, "Dude, just get your shit together!"? 

Its genius really. I've been wondering ever since if that is what I should have done all along...it seems too simple. Or maybe just too humble.  The thing about humility, is that you often must aknowledge someone else's position and swallow a spoonful of pride. I'd rather swallow their pride. Unfortunately, R saw little opportunity in E's proposal and so we moved on.  That's the other risk - putting yourself on the line and being rejected or passed right by.
But the year has finally finished after a painfully slow passing. JB and I went out with a bang too, rather than taking one. Not that it made the whole year worth it but it was most the fun I've had in weeks.  I took a lot out of this year; I left a lot behind to because that's where it needed to stay. It will be there still if I get back. IF?

HERE

Holy rusted nails, Batman! Where have I been lately? What have I been doing? Especially, now that school is out I should have all the time in the world.  Which leaves me all the time in the world to do nothing. Maybe my nothing is someone's something, or maybe so much of my something has felt like nothing lately that now my nothing has become something. Makes sense, right?
Entertaining a random drunk in a parking lot and eating tacos at 10p.m. to counter a six hour long happy hour sounds like nothing. As does watching hours of reality TV, or getting buzzed with the little brother...it does feel like I've been here before.  Right now summer gives time, and I appreciate that. Without it, the summer heat would seem to be a waste. So I will savor what it gives me and move on with the wave.

Monday is Coming

sip

Part of my morning is a cup of coffee.  Decafe or not, hot or cold, the day has officially started when I have a cup in hand.  

work it, or don't

I have a number of pet peeves that reveal themselves particularily bluntly at my place of physical training, that is the gym. For one, why do your clothes need to be cute? Things do not need to be pink or glittery. And a full face of make-up is not very condusive to the sweat you should plan on sliding down your face. There is a certain someone, whom I never interact with and should then maybe let it go, but who also has a flair in her mien guaranteed to catch your attention, which I'm sure is its whole purpose. The rolled up pant leg, the slicked back hair, the strategically exposed belly piercing. Oh, and the sisters seem to be pushed up front. If you could move aside, I would really like to access the machine you're leaning against while you talk to that guy. 
Tattoos, though I understand are meant to be seen, aren't necessarily meant to be had. I can point out three different gentelmen who sport rather identical flames crawling up their calf muscles - that's right, muscles, on both legs. If somethings is to be said for that I can't figure it out. Maybe, he can beat me to the machine...?
I'm one for pluggin' my phones in my ears and blairing the music without any attention to who's looking.  I'm sure they are - my swinging elbows, by throat clearing, my soaked t-shirt, my frizzled hair - but my shoes are pretty ballin'.  They should look at those. 

Breaking and Fixing

"it's all insane if you think about it. how things are made. how things break. who fixes the unfixable. who stays and who cannot. it's a heartbreaking tightrope walk every minute of every day. don't look down, don't look up, just fix your eyes straight ahead. there's tomorrow. there's another chance. there's better, there's worse, there's richer and poorer and ice cream for dinner and warm socks fresh from the dryer and sunsets that make you want to stick around to see it come back up again. there will be those shit shit shit moments and a whole lot of mortified."


A lot of things have seemed broken lately.  Some have seemed broken for awhile, and others are more recent. Like the new season has brought on some new challanges. Whether I break or others break, or whoever is doing the breaking, there seems to be a call to go shopping for new things. But then the old things are still broken and you have to look at them or pitch them....so, what to do? If someone were to let me know, it would probably go something like the above.


from MackinInk; she's just lovely

Its Here

Spring. 

You Vs. Them Vs. Me

I've been having arguments with my father about, well, everything.  Arguements may be too defined, but "disagreements" is too kind, and that is what we haven't been.  I hear people, or mostly my mother, say "You two are so much alike"and that is apparently why we have a hard time seeing eye-to-eye. I'm not sure what we're seeing, except maybe the other one in our own way.   He goes on and on, I let out a big sigh and then he goes on some more because I'm not going on....or because my sigh is going on.  If you're confused about the whole thing imagine how I feel.

Sometimes I want to throw something across the room and have it shatter a window just to get his attention, because its not about the window.  Its not about the window, or the drawer in the fridge, or the stack of things on the table, or the stain on the carpet.  But I suppose its easier to make it about one of those things than one of the other things, right? Because if its about one of the other things, that means its about YOU, and no one wants it to be about them. Not even me.

The World Without

When I set him back down I had a blunt feeling that only part of him was left.  He had just laid his head in my hand for nearly 20 minutes, and it was as if that was our moment. That was our goodbye.  And it still felt like getting the wind knocked out of me when someone actually said it the next day.
He was such a good boy.  Not necessarily good in the behaved way; good in grade. He was as present as any person I knew.  For 18 years he gave us, his family, his best. To have someone who never gave judgement, was never unforgiving or hard is the rarest of all rarities.  And the hurt is a rare, inexplainable hurt because you don't quite know it's place.
I'm struggling with these past few days, and I will struggle for more to come.  The tears have come in the morning, at work, in the car, at home, at the gym.  I know we had a blessed time with him, but I wanted more.  You always want more.

Down for the Count

Throwing up has to be one of the most inconvenient acts your body can take part in.
 I miss the gym and I even think it misses me.  Thanks to a week of different agents wrecking havoc on my body, I have failed to show face all but one day.  And not much face at work either.  I am now crawling out of my den, very slowly, and trying to pick back up where I left off.  Rather difficult to do when you're still not feeling 100%.  The process of emerging from out of commission takes a lot, a lot of patience mostly.  I'm still finding my rhythm and trying to get my strength back after the flu and removal of wisdom teeth. E said he'd buy me some new ones.  Teeth that is. The good news is I didn't create any embarassing scenes under the influence of the "happy juice," unlike the girl in the room next to me. She was a show all by herself.
I've mostly just spent a lot time lying around.  Now, pushing on, I'm looking forward to rest where I don't feel completely spent.
Spring break, and Christmas break, have to be the best parts of my job.  Breaks and a certain little face that looks at me like it genuinely loves me.

Heart

"I'm creeping inside your heart and rearranging it so the TV is not the center of the room. "

Please do. Do a little dusting while you're at it; straighten up the clutter.  




photo from awelltraveledwoman.

Sail Through

Man of my dreams....either one.  It's Tuesday, which means Monday is over.

photos from awelltraveledwoman.

Incredibly and Extremely

I did what Mom and Dad told me I should never do: got in the car with a stranger.  Being about 20 pounds lighter, 4 inches taller, and 15 years younger, I was somewhat confident that I'd be able to escape if need be. And it was a her. A her makes a difference, sorry to all the hers.  Helping someone out made my crappy day suddenly not so crappy.  The poor thing just needed some directions and I was "lucky" enough to be flagged down.  Then the guy at the credit union let me cut to the very front of the line. Karma, baby. It doesn't always find its way back but its obvious when it does.
I also went to the movies. By myself.  I almost think thats the best way to go to the movies.  Who wants someone whispering in your ears at every scene they have an opinion about? Not me because I only go the movies for an experience, one that has me thinking for days.
And this one broke my heart. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close...what a gutting film.
Then a kickboxing class broke my body.  My muscles are still screaming three days later.   It was a whim and the stress came out in a healthy way. Really smashing someone's face in might not have been the best alternative, especially since some of them are letting me cut lines. 

Paperweight

My heart hurts. I've felt it for the past two weeks or so.  Something has been placed there I can't seem to shake off very well.  This happens every so often, but this is the longest it has lasted in awhile.  Things typically come and go and sometimes they just pile up so I guess its more troublesome to get the load to budge. Sometimes I think the things aren't actually that heavy, I'm just hold them down pretty hard. 

People have become hard for me to connect with; not for lack of trying which is the most frustrating part.  

Many conversations and emails have take place over this past week, bringing some things to settle down a bit.  Between work and home I've become rather displaced.  There has been much to deal with over the past 6 months and my words can fail me when I would just prefer to walk away.  I don't really know where I'd walk to....

I'm reminded of something I realized abroad, and that's the fact that most people wanted to feel appreciated and that's it. I don't do a very good job of telling people I appreciate them.  I had (yes, had) to share some very personel things with J the other day just so he would know what goes on inside a lot of the time.  I knew my blood was going to surge to somewhere, that feeling that it pools somewhere, waiting.  I've had the other feeling this week too - when the blood is going to burst out of your toes and fingertips.  It makes me wonder what I still have inside... 

Beekeeper

I not-so-secretely want to do this.

photo from awelltraveledwoman

Elliot

"April is the cruelest month," he said, but I wonder what T.S. Eliot was doing in January and February. After the presents have been opened, the lights put away, and the champaine drained, the only thing left to do is look down at the scale and discover how many pants sizes you've gone up.  And then realize how much work its going to take to get them to go back down.  The end of the holidays tends to put me in funk; I go through a good period of mourning because it doesn't seem like there is anything to look forward to for awhile. Then I emerge with some rather ambitious tasks and expectations.  

Sometimes I mistakenly sit down and think about all the things I have and have not accomplished in my 27 years.  I inevetably think about it when one year ends and another begins, for what better time to contemplate life's platter than when you've been strung out on sugar and alcohol for the better part of a week? Exactly.  But I didn't make any new year resolutions this time around; they're always broad and my life should be broad anyway. My life should be a resolution.  I'm always looking for some big oppportunity or decision to make - and I hate making big decisions!  But the thrill is what gets me.  Sometimes, I have realized, contentment should be a thrill.