I wonder do you think of me the way I think of you
Do you have the dreams at night that I sometimes do
Do you wish for different lives with dreams as far as me
Are you scared when others look that they will also see

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what I want

A lover
A confidant
A travel agent
A friend
A diary, to whom I can entrust all of my secrets
A comedian
A storyteller
A chef
A maid
A carpenter
A free spirit
An intellectual
A writer

All wrapped up in one

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It's strange, the noise the whole world makes as it crashes down around you. It's not as loud as I thought it would be. Sounds like an ocean flowing in and out, gently beating against the rocks.

Changing

I am changing.

Who I am and what I

think

feel

do

The way I act

the way I breathe

Feels as though something is shifting

My very DNA

It is you.

You do this to me.

Question is - Is this a welcome change or something I want to struggle against?

Routine of things

I am feeling very down lately. I wasn't quite sure what exactly was bringing it on, but I think I've figured it out. I thrive on routine. On having a systematic balance to what is done, how it is done, and when (especially when ) it is done each day. Our family recently has been turned on it's metaphoric head when it comes to routines. Changes in schedules, classes; ending sports seasons; it all just feels wacky lately. I have to refind that groove that lets me feel like I am accomplishing the things that need to be done and when they need to be done. I feel like I am a better parent when things are organized, even my time.

Laundry on a certain night. Homework at a certain time. Dinner dishes pet care etc.

I need to find my groove.

grass

I am just looking for a connection. For a way to feel like I have shared something - a moment, a feeling, an experience. I miss that feeling.

Grass is always greener in every pasture but the one you are standing in. Maybe that is because we keep walking in circles looking for the gate and pacing because we feel trapped until we've worn our own grass down until nothing remains but dirt and mud. I think maybe I just want to live where there are no fences, that way you are on neither this side, nor that one. Maybe then I can stop pacing.

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Cynical

The Matrix is a fairy tale. Maybe we aren't really living the life we think we may be. Perhaps we are all in a safe little bubble, secure, and these patterns of life that we believe to be real are simply dreams. Free will perhaps gone, but taken with it is the decisions that lead us to where we find ourselves.

cynical tonight.

Pessimistic perhaps and persistently patient that paradise performs nightly in the presence of my mind.

Old Blog postings...

Life never lives up to our expectations, does it? And I've always heard that life is what you make of it. I get that, I really do. Then someone sent me a quote yesterday, in an (appreciated) attempt at cheering me up - Happiness is not getting what you want, but wanting what you already have. So now here I sit, pondering that. Isn't that settling? Should we really settle? Why shouldn't we go out there and really fight for what it is that we desire, to break all of the rules and do anything necessary to attain our wishing star?

Here's a For Instance - someone has a great, enjoyable career that pays well, has good benefits, and is doing something where they are 'making a difference.' But they've always dreamed of being a photographer for a wildlife magazine. If they see that opportunity arise, why shouldn’t' they go for it? As long as all financial barriers are covered in the meantime, drop what you are doing, and chase your dream. Take every picture you can, until your shutter finger is worn and calloused. You may ultimately lose the cushy, comfortable job, yes. But wouldn't you have always wondered what your lens would show? You never know unless you try, right?

I think we all should give it all up for every turn at fate. If you settle, you are surrendering. Waving that white flag and saying "nah, it's okay, I'm here, I'm fed and clean as a prisoner and out of danger of being taken hostage by the next troop that comes along, so I'll stay right here." Well what if the war is over just beyond the next hill? What if you can keep running, never looking back and make that climb? You'd see that peace you'd knew could be discovered somewhere if you look in the right spot - at just the right time.

Explanations

I found an old blog (myspace) today. Well, I didn't really find it, I was reminded of it. (Thanks! ;) ) I had quite a few entries in there that now are a delight to read. Thoughts, rambles, unfinished stories. Some of these going back so long ago, to a different life. I might share a couple here.. although they will seem outdated now. But still worth preserving.

I imagine that my myspace page will be gone soon, I couldn't even remember the password to get to the blog. So expect a few updates that may seem strange.

resting

The house is finally quiet. I am alone in my room, and the windows are open, letting in the symphony of night things and air entwined. The fan captures their melody and sprays it over my sweat soaked skin, bringing my nipples to attention. In the distance, yard dogs gossip with one another about their day, not close enough to cause an annoyance. Evening has brought with it a calm. The myriad of problems that swallowed my day have melted, so that not a trace remains. At this exact moment, as the curtains lift themselves in dance away from the night, I find that I cannot recall any singular stressing factor from my life.

Indeed, there is no offense lurking in the closet, no deadline rushing at me headfirst, and no petulant children beckoning me to their side. This moment is perfect. The intersection of complete contentment and physical comfort, where nothing more than this is needed or yearned for. No meditative guides, no soothing sounds seeping through speakers.

A train whistle bellows and is echoed. The hum of the discs massaging the tracks moans like a lullaby to my soul, and I close my eyes and rest.

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Envy

Man boy, maybe 22 at the most. What looks like second hand clothes, a torn knapsack, a bottle of water, and an air mattress. Seems to be alone here at the camp ground. Seen him a few times this weekend. He floats down the river on top of his queen sized mattress, into the crystal clear spring, where he then lies on his stomach and digs goggles out of his knapsack to peer into the water and watch the divers or fish below him. He puts away his goggles and then dives into the icey water time and again with the biggest grin on his face each time he emerges with a shake of his head. When he has tired of this he pulls his mattress out of the water and finds a quiet spot away from the crowds to put it out in the sun, stretches out with an apple or sandwich he has removed from a plastic bag deep within that sack before setting it aside. After finishing his meal, he lays in the sun and naps.


I think right now I envy this man boy more than I ever have any other.

Cauchemar

A device meant to make you a better person. Meant to assist you in overcoming your fears and inhibitions; and to show you just what it all (life) holds for you if you don't do better, if you don't try harder, if you fail to go as far with this life as you are "supposed" to. Also meant as rehabilitation if, at any point in your success, you begin to slip. A gently nudging reminder of what lies at the end of the path to self destruction.

Sensory deprivation. Electrodes wires and clamps gently feeding you all of your surroundings, supporting cast of characters, thoughts, feelings and more. So realistic you'd never realize it wasn't until you were snapped back to the other reality. To the real reality. Snapped back with gratitude at the lesson learned.

I show up in a rush, frustrated that The Company has decided that their CEO needed a booster session from Cauchemar, but knowing that this is the policy I, myself, has implemented. Stopping to smile with an infant in the lobby hardly equates to "actions, thoughts, or emotions non-conducive to the further successful progression of oneself in all matters directly or indirectly in a position to influence the rate of prosperity of The Company." ( A gorgeous child. Green eyes. And those little ringlets of reddish-blonde curl sprouting around her ears...) A brief smile released and exchanged at the sound of a giggle brought forth by her Mum twirling her in the air near the fountain on the ground floor was caught on the security cameras and reported, as is company policy. Protocol mandates that if a smile is found to be wistful in nature, the bearer is required to undergo a full session on the réparation device. The only longing permitted by The Company's policy is that for continued acceleration of success.

I am greeted at the door by Cyril, the receptionist, and shown to my room without comment. It is a small room with dim lighting and no sound. The chair before me resembles that in a dentist's, but much plusher and with a slightly more elevated lower half, for raising the feet above the heart in order to assist in relaxation. I slip off my Manolos and Marc Jacobs pantsuit, lie them on the small rack provided in the corner of the room, and put on the sensoriels suit, designed to block the feel of the chair's touch on the body. It is a lightweight bodysuit that covers all exposed skin, leaving only the head and neck bare. I climb into the chair and instantly feel more relaxed, although I am mentally running through the things that need to be done, phone calls that need to be made, and contemplating changing the policy of The Company simply for wasting my time on this Tuesday morning.

Cyril waits patiently for me to finish preparing, and then presses a small button to the left of the door that makes no sound I can discern, signaling to the staff that I am ready for treatment. She smiles softly at me as she begins to leave the room.

"Enjoy this life as much as possible, I'll see you in a few hours."

I don't bother smiling back.

She walks out as Riley walks in and closes the door again behind her. I'm glad to see who will be handling me today. Riley is quiet. She will not want to to discuss why I might be here. She will not require me to review the full life I am about to live and experience in only a matter of a few hours on what would otherwise be a productive morning, upon my completion of the treatment. All the quicker I can get back to the office this afternoon.

Riley quickly and efficiently attaches the necessary nodules and wires to multiple points of contact on my suit, scalp and face. She pulls the articulated arm holding the helnel and slides it across the room towards me. She places the headgear around the upper half of the chair, enveloping me mostly in darkness and effectively cutting out the small amount of sound there was in the room. I feel only the slightest hint of a prick as the needle pierces the small area underneath my hairline just behind my right ear.

Instantly I can feel my body temperature rising, and a deep lethargy taking over. My last conscious thought is that I hope this time I am at least single.

I'm ready to wake up now.

slowdance

my post yesterday led to me opening this in my email today:

S L O W D A N C E:

Have you ever watched kids
on a merry-go-round
Or listened to the rain
slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's

erratic flight
Or gazed at the sun into the fading
night?

You better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last

Do you run through each day

on the fly
When you ask "How are you?"
do you hear the reply?

When the day is done,
do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
running through your head?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last

Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow
And in your haste, not see his
sorrow?

Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
'Cause you never had time
to call and say "Hi"?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast
Time is short
The music won't last

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting
there.
When you worry and hurry through your
day,
It is like an unopened gift....
Thrown away...

Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over

Winter

feel like I’m sinking
clawing at breath exhaled

frozen alive

in this drift of recollection

moments mesh together

forming hours

days

weeks

years lost

just clawing

forgotten tidbits of

nondescript happenings

that all too easily

consume

sadness takes over

was I sleeping

did I miss

all the good stuff

all things taken

those not worth mentioning

but meaning

everything

do the memories that

weren't found to be worth

remembering

shape the memories to come?

Is it that

I've missed the beauty

of the single flake

for the fury of the storm

Manners

I, myself, was taught to say please and thank you. I was told, beginning at a very young age, to show appreciation for things that you are given, for kind words, for compliments, for favors. This was carved in the stone of my upbringing, and is a part of my day to day living as naturally occurring as breath.

I find myself in a position of feeling frustration that exceeds normal ranges. Normal day to day disappointments disappear with time as I go about my life. This instance is leaving me with feelings of anger, confusion, and bafflement that I simply cannot shake. I think of it multiple times throughout my days, even though it is now a week later.

I invited a friend in need into my home. I was told she had no where to turn, was having a difficult time financially, and needed a place to stay. I moved my own children from their familiar surroundings so that she would have a place to call her own while there, making as many changes to our own lives as was feasible to make her feel comfortable. Asked of her was $50 per month to help with the additional expenses expected, such as increases in the water and electric bill, and household items such as paper towels and toilet paper.

Month one went by with no money provided, until a reminder conversation was initiated by myself to her, and then $20 was given. Month two brought about a 200% increase in utility bills, with electric spiking from approximately $190 to $387, and the cost of water doubling. I was given an additional $20.

During this time, minor nuances were mostly overlooked: doors left open at night when said friend snuck in the house after nights out; refrigerator doors left open, spoiling food; air conditioning controls changed to suit; trash left in the yard even after repeated requests to remove it; files downloaded to the family computer that were most definitely not for children's viewing.

This stay was extended long past the original agreed upon time frame. One month stretched into two, that turned into three - all the while only $40 had been exchanged. I reminded friend of my desire to return my children to their own rooms and environments before the start of the new school year, and it was agreed that they would move out in two weeks time, during the following weekend.

I arrived home the following night, on a Tuesday evening, and discovered that the room in question was bare. The only clue that it had been inhabited at all was a television sitting on a table. I sent a text message inquiry and received no response. A few hours later, my daughter comes in to tell me that the television has been stealthily retrieved whilst I was folding laundry in a corner of the house, and that this friend had just walked out the door.

I threw down what I was doing, and ran through the house to the driveway, only to see their vehicle backing up to head out. I threw up a questioning wave to get their attention, had a slight acknowledgment, a quick few words, and they were gone.

No Good-bye, to me or the children.

No Thank yous.

No show of appreciation or gratitude at all.

Haven't heard from them since.

Manners.

Things he should have been there for

1) To teach me to play the guitar

2) to scare my boyfriends away

3) to walk me down the aisle

4) to show me more of his love for music, it's something we share

much ado about nothing

Writing eludes me. No, scratch that. Time to write eludes me. Why? well, because there is dinner to make, and laundry to fold, and carpets to vacuum. Work to be done. and writing isn't work, is it?

colors

sometimes I think I see you in white, but hear you in blue. I feel you in yellow, and love you in red. when you combine it, all that you are left with is a swirling mass of gray. and gray makes me sad.

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Old Stuff

I recently found this when I was digging through a box of old things. I wrote it in jr. high, I think it was in 7th grade. Not quite sure, could have been 8th. Anyway, I thought I could preserve it on here. So here it is.

As I wander this everlasting hellhole called Earth I begin to believe that this is my dream, seeming nightmare, that I shall never awaken from, never ending demons and monsters chasing me into bottomless pits deeper than my soul, that envelope me in darkness. And these demons are the people that encourage my sadness. And these monsters are the lost hopes hoes of ever waking. And this pit is my own heart that has stopped its pulse until I awaken again.

Cheery for a 13 yr old, no?

not sure where this one came from...

Broken. And

battered. And

beaten. And

done.

Born

out of choices

that can’t be

undone.

Will to continue

left cold

in a

ditch.

No one

warned her.

Karma’s a bitch.

Playlists.

The Song Remembers When. Great one by Trisha Yearwood. And although the song is talking about love, and remember the moment when they were happy, and wondering where all that has gone - the premise is just how quickly a song can evoke a memory, or a time, or even a feeling.

We all have them, playlists. Playlists for dancing moods, playlists for depression, titles for when we are wanting to remember - both good times and bad.

But what happens when you are in one mood, and that song comes on? You know the one.. the one that always changes your entire view on life, even if it is just for that 2-3 minutes the song is playing. One of those just came on for me. Flyleaf - So I Thought. And really, this song doesn't take me 'back' anywhere, it just evokes that feeling of ... longing? Sadness for things uncontrollable.

On my knees
Dim lighted room
Thoughts free flow try to consume
Myself in this
I'm not faithless
Just paranoid of getting lost or that I might lose
Ignorance is bliss cherish it
Pretty neighborhoods
You learn too much to hold
Believe it not
And fight the tears
With pretty smiles and lies
About the times

Playlists.

Well.. my last post was about April, and here it is May 11! Crazy how quickly time flies.

April

April has arrived on swiftly moving winds! I am still trying to process what happened to 2009, and here in 2010, April is already a week old!! Easter has come and gone, I spent the day at home, helping loved ones nurse hangovers. Yes, I know. Easter Sunday + Hangovers = Trouble.

Spring is a big teaser this year - the sky is a beautiful deep blue, the breeze just enough to make the weather perfect, nights even more enhanced by the clear skies and temperatures that seem plucked from a fairy tale. Of course, I enjoy this mostly from the comfort of my office, a spectacular view to behold on the other side of my window - the building next door, with an identical window, and the small row of shrubbery beneath each.

It is days like these that I fantasize about my certainly-to-come-one-day lottery winnings the most. I picture and imagine, in detail, firstly how and who I would tell about winning. Then there would be the passports for all of the kids to arrange. Scheduling of visitation with their father, because you can't return from Rome or Syndey or Galapagos every other weekend! And the beaches we'd see.. the house I'd buy that would require attention to the lawn- because with unlimited time I would have a yard that the entire city envied.

I would truly become a child of the sun.

Ah April, how you taunt me so.

My Guys...

Okay so I said I would find a few guys that I liked.. and perhaps it's just because I just watched Dogma, but Silent Bob is the only one that initially came to mind. I like him...

but for the sake of the blog, I'll post a couple others.

Tom Welling (yeah I know it's there in the picture, but ..) he is definitely good looking. All American Boy kinda comes to mind?

Josh Holloway, not bad!

Johnny Depp - every time.

Richard Gere

and...

 Jared Leto. Whom I have liked since My So Called Life.

Celebrity Crushes

So everyone has them, right? Crushes on celebrities. I was talking to a friend about my own personal celeb crushes, and decided to save some of the pics I found online.. thought I'd take a min and share with you.

Mariska .. mmmm. I mean really, who wouldn't find her attractive? just look at her.

Then there is

Charisma Carpenter. Loved her since I first saw her snobbish character on BTVS. Again.. yum.

Then we have Gina Gershon..

I'm seeing a pattern here.. guess to be fair I should add a blonde, huh?

Although I'm fairly certain that Katherine Heigl is not naturally blonde.

Rose Rollins is incredible. She's just beautiful, really...

and one more, for your viewing pleasure.

Pauly Perrette..nuff said.

There are very few male celebrities that really do anything for me, but in all fairness I will try to put up another blog of men.. 

How Dare You

Presumption is the true root of all evil

You presume to know me

know how I feel

What I think

How i should behave

You presume to know god

What he wants

what she sees

Things he judges

Opinions she values

You presume your morals are truth

Who is right, What is wrong

which thoughts

and actions

are impure

and which

land you in purgatory

You presume to know what it is

that is really in my heart

that you can simply

make me see

that your presumptions

should be those of each of us

should you just

keep trying

Please keep trying

Because

I presume that

eventually

one day

we'll all get it right

and all stop presuming

Mental Health Day

Yesterday all of us took a mental health day. A day for a break from your routine, in order to maintain and improve one's mental health and wellbeing. In short, we all played hookey.

I kept the kids from school. Bad mom, I know. FCAT testing is this week, and they are a little bit stressed about it - although I am not sure why, seeing as they always fly through these things - and we each needed a family day of relaxation.

Of course, relaxing is probably not the word most would use to describe the Florida Strawberry Festival. All the fun of the fair, with crowds surpassing that of the State Fair.

The kids stood in line for 45 minutes to ride a poor excuse for a slapped-together roller coaster with an approximate run time of maybe 45 seconds. Of course, they did not complain. They weren't in school, and they were having fun!

Italian Sausages, Funnel Cakes, Ice Cream, Corn Dogs - they ate whatever they saw that they wanted. They bought silly toys that will find their way to the trash at my first opportunity. They rode rides until they were almost sick. All in all, they were spoiled. And we loved doing it.

Most Amazing Sound

A man is driving down the road and breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?

The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, and even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound; a sound like no other that he has ever heard. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, We can't tell you because you're not a monk.

The man is disappointed but thanks them anyway and goes about his merry way. Some years later, the same man breaks down in front of the same monastery.

The monks again accept him, feed him, and even fix his car..

That night, he hears the same strange mesmerizing sound that he had heard years earlier.

The next morning, he asks what the sound was, but the monks reply,

We can't tell you because you're not a monk.

The man says, all right, all right. I'm dying to know.

If the only way I can find out what that sound was is to become a monk, how do I become a monk?

The monks reply, you must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of sand pebbles. When you find these numbers, you will become a monk.

The man sets about his task. Some forty-five years later, he returns and knocks on the door of the monastery. He says, I have travelled the earth and devoted my life to the task demanded and have found what you had asked for.. There are 371,145,236,284,232 blades of grass and 231,281,219,999,129,382 sand pebbles on the earth.

The monks reply, congratulations, you are correct, and you are now considered a monk .We shall now show you the way to the sound.

The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, the sound is behind that door.

The man reaches for the knob, but the door is locked.. He asks, May I have the key ?

The monks give him the key, and he opens the door.

Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone... The man requests the key to the stone door.

The monks give him the key, and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. He demands another key from the monks, who provide it. Behind that door is another door, this one made of sapphire And so it went on until the man had gone through doors of emerald,...

...silver, topaz, and amethyst.

Finally, the monks say, This is the key to the last door ..

The man is relieved to be at the end.. He unlocks the door, turns the knob, and behind that door he is astonished to find the source of that strange sound. It is truly an amazing and unbelievable sight .......



.. But I can't tell you what it is because you're not a monk.

addiction

You know that part of the movie Ghost where the subway ghost (Vincent Schiavelli )is, in his own way, mentoring "Sam" in the ways of haunting? And somehow...


"What you don't believe me? You think I fell? You think I jumped? Well, f*ck you! It wasn't my time. I wasn't supposed to go! I'm not supposed to be here!"

...they end up breaking the cigarette machine, spilling the innards of the machine out onto the dusty dirty station floor?

He looks longingly at the array of cigarettes spread out before him like a starving man on a fast led to a buffet table.

"Ahh what I wouldn't give for a drag! Just one drag! "

That is in my mind today. The metaphor of it.

teased taunted
nanny nanny boo boo
I'm not even good for you
and yet you miss me
addiction
reminders right there in your face
every time you turn around
like a spray
of cigarettes
on a dirty nasty ground

Rambles

Pictures lost
time frozen
caught on small bits of paper
forever unseen

mirrored images
speaking in whispers
sometimes screaming
crying
silently staring
at all that was and could be

Feelin a little bit Wicked

Last night I had the great pleasure and opportunity to see a performance of Wicked at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center. It was an amazing show, even better than I expected.

We started off the night with dinner at RawBar downtown, paid our outrageously priced tab, then headed right next door for a bag of fries and beers at Five Guys! So much better, we should have just went there to begin with, but we both felt a little overdressed for a burger joint initially, and with the stereotypical date night of an award winning musical and dinner - well I guess fine dining is expected. Next time we just won't care as much!

We then headed over to Morsani Hall for the show, grabbed a couple glasses of chardonnay, and browsed the souvenir tables for goodies, where I was spoiled enough to walk away with a tshirt, cd, and keychain. Then we found our seats and helped neighbors take photographs and sipped our wine while waiting for the show to start. No obstructions, no one in front of us, perfect view!

Then the show started and I was a complete zombie to anything else going on around me. She swears that I was covered in gooseflesh and had tears for at least half of the show. I couldn't take my eyes from the stage.

The cast was amazing -

acting

singing

dancing

- all perfectly done.

I would see it again, in a heartbeat.

As we left the theatre I decided I did not want our evening to end. I wanted to fly on my cloud of bliss a little longer, did not relish coming home and letting the dog out, getting all "ungussied," and climbing into bed in my sweatpants. So we headed to Applebee's for another drink (water for me this time) and some Spinach Artichoke dip (could eat that stuff until I make myself sick, I swear!) and tried to find some friends to come share in my euphoria. Ended up just us though.

Really people, start answering your phones at midnight.

Then we headed home and crashed.

I felt a little bit like a princess last night. Everything was perfect. The sunset from the sushi bar, the compliments on my dress ( and shoes even! ) from strangers, laughing over beers fries and peanuts with the smell of burning grease in the air, the short walk to the show and having the chilly breeze blow my skirt up for a 'marilyn moment.'

What a night! 

as I am

I have carried this poem in my wallet for at least 12 years. It was given to me by my grandmother after being clipped from a local newspaper, so I have no clue who to attribute it to. It is a very simple message, the writing is direct and to the point and a cute rhyme, but for some reason any time I am feeling down or unsure about things, re-reading it always makes me feel better. Maybe it is the connection I feel with my grandmother when I read it, maybe it is the simplicity of the message. Either way, here tis...



I cannot change the way I am
I never really try
God made me different and unique
I never ask him why

If I appear peculiar
There’s nothing I can do
You must accept me as I am
As I’ve accepted you

God made a casting of each life
Then threw the mold away
Each child is different from the rest
Unlike as night from day

So often we will criticize
The things that others do
But do you know they do not think
The same as me and you

So God in all his wisdom
Who knows us all by name
He didn’t want us to be bored
That’s why we’re not the same

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood..

Today has turned out to be a gorgeous day.
Truly.
I hate being inside working on a day like today.
The sky is flawless, the birds are singing, the air is crisp and not too cool... just amazing.

"We can't control how we feel, only what we can do about it!"

I had the strangest dream last night. You ever have those dreams that seem so insanely realistic that you wake up from them doubting reality?

I was at a reunion of some sort - most like a high school reunion of lost friends and their families. In this dream, I was at a public park catching up with people that I haven't seen (or even thought of) for years. One of them was a guy I knew in Junior High - not even really High School, we lost touch around 9th or 10th grade. We were all sitting in the sun at this park when some sort of disaster struck, I can't remember the details. Perhaps an earthquake, maybe war.. dunno. Everyone began grabbing their loved ones, children, and running for cover. This guy - let's call him James - screams at me, "Go get Taylia. You have to save Taylia." At this point in the dream I had only glimpsed his daughter while she played. I look at him strangely, wondering why he would choose me to go after her. He looks me right in the eye and says "You have to save our daughter."

And then everything sort of clicked for me in a way that can only be done in dreams when it is all make believe. He and I had had a daughter together, but being young as we were, we had jointly chosen to give her up for adoption. It was a decision we had not easily made, and he was less easily given to the adoption. Unbeknownst to me, he had, through his family attorney, been the "adoptive" parent(s). He had not been willing, in the end, to give up his child, yet also did not want to force me to be a parent when I was apparently unready and unwilling. He had been raising our daughter for the last 12 years, and this was how I was to find out, in the face of tragedy.

I don't recall the details for the next few moments of the dream, so flash-forward to everyone is safe and we are somewhere else and he is telling me the whole story, filling me in on Taylia and all of her childhood endeavors. I just keep staring at her, trying to make up for lost time perhaps, trying to memorize her features and find the similarities, all while he talks. I am going through a plethora of emotions - sadness, regret, anger, happiness, tears, overwhelmed... he is staring at me, trying to gauge all of these emotions and what I am feeling...

And then Bruschi whines to wake me and let me know he needs to go out. I sit right up in bed, looking around for Taylia and James, feeling like someone just handed me the last piece of a puzzle and then set it to fire. I begin to go through my life, year by year.. almost checking to see if I have somehow forgotten this sequence of events, purged it from my memory. It took a decent ten minutes to straighten out my head.

Even now, six and a half hours later, I kind of miss them. Dreams are strange.

Endorphins

7:00 a.m. The alarm is screaming at me to get out of bed, rise and shine. And the tone is roosters crowing. You know how annoying roosters can be at 7:00 a.m.??? Especially when I know that I don't have to leave home for work until 10:00. That really doesn't help. I only hit snooze once, I swear, and then at 7:10 I crawled out of bed, threw my hair into a ponytail, grabbed a light jacket, my tennis shoes, and my mp3 and headed out for some exercise. I know I always feel better after I've done something besides lying in bed. So why is it so difficult to actually do it? I never really fall back to sleep after the alarm has gone off, I just lie there and doze or think and contemplate getting up and doing something. But nonetheless it is no easy feat dragging my behind out the door.

It's 55 outside this morning. Overcast, with a kind of wetness in the air. Miserable. And then, about 20 minutes into my walk, Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel comes on the player, and my step picks up a bit, and the weather just seems absolutely beautiful to me! I'm just starting to sweat a little bit, wondering if I've even come close to burning off any of those chocolate chip cookies I had last night (hey they were the soft bake!! I couldn't resist) and suddenly the world was golden. A smile broke out on my face, and I just wanted to keep on walking. Thought (very briefly) about jogging, even. I turned up the volume, picked up my pace even more, and wow... everything of the last few weeks that seems to have been getting to me and building up just disappeared. Life is good. Endorphins are great. Better than chocolate chip cookies even.

A list

My daily horoscope is sent to me every morning via text message courtesy of Alltel/Verizon. This morning's sliver of insight was "Make a list - pros and cons, to-do, whatever - then stick with it until it's done." Might I add here that I'm not quite sure how you "stick with" a pro/con list. Either way, I saw it as a New Years Resolution -type opportunity, for the middle of February. I made a couple of resolutions for January 1, 2010.. none of which I have stuck with, of course, and none of which I wish to list here as an occasion for dwelling on my failures in a short 7 weeks. So I shall begin again. Because my horoscope says to.

• Exercise daily, excluding the chores I do at home anyway and walking when I don't find a decent parking space.
• Eat healthier. No fried foods or junk.
• Keep up with my blog! (so far so good)
• Spend at least 5 minutes a day in prayer/meditation/quiet reflection.
• Take slow, deep breaths when I am upset instead of yelling and then crying to make myself feel better.

Not too bad for a list, I suppose. General improvement of well-rounded health, both physical and mental. Shouldn't be too difficult, right? Here's to hoping.

Time

Who has time? Not me. I come here to look at my blog, to think about all the things I want to say to those two or three readers I might still have (Carmen??? is that you???) but I just can't find the time to sit and think and type - all at the same time. Kids. Blah. Work. Blah. Karate dinner dishes homework laundry animals sleep.. blah.

Forgotten Blogs

I always wanted to do a blog. I mean really do a blog. Like, actually update it. I keep forgetting, somehow, that I started this one with that intent. I forget about it until I access some webpage that has a blogger link, and automatically tries to link me to my own blog.

Well, here is another go at it. Maybe I'll even update within this year this time.