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.