Day 3 - Gulf of Mexico

On Memorial Day we went boating in the Gulf of Mexico. I believe the Suwannee River (not to be confused with Swanee River. Just kidding; they're one and the same) led us to the actual Gulf waters, but don't know with complete certainty. Here are some pics.

Most of the houses were on stilts; as you can see, the space underneath doesn't go to waste.

And some had a boat garage off to the side. As convenient as the river is, it's not suggested to swim in it much, due to the water snakes and alligators. We saw a lot of people fishing from their porches.

A boat all loaded up with crab cages.

Around the bend, we got out into the Gulf.

On the surface, of course, the water looked really clean and refreshing. But you can see it's actually not at all. More brownish. And yes, I tasted the ocean, in a manner of speaking. Sodium levels are noticeably higher.

The ball is marking a crab cage out in the deep. We decided to pull one up and see how well it was doing. I think we counted 6 crabs and a few little fish. It was speculated there might even be a baby shark in there. :)

My main man, Brady. It was a great hair day for all.

After a couple hours playin' in the water, we headed back to the river. Mike made sure to soak the inside of the boat before we got to the no wake zone. No electronics were harmed fortunately.

These signs dictate the lanes on the water way; boaters stay right of the red and left of the green.

The green ones are numbered to correspond with the map of the area. We were clipping by pretty quick so I couldn't get the numbers clearly at all.

Here is the patio to Salt Creek Restaurant. We ended up eating there after loading up the boat.

Beautiful houses along the way.

Salt Creek Restaurant patio from the inside.

I had to try the fresh oyster stew. The oysters were big and chewy. Yum! But the soup part didn't hold a candle to our Christmas Eve. Tooooo buttery. Also, worst calamari I've ever had, which was not expected. However, I tried alligator and it does taste like chicken! :)

The sunburn that I achieved on Sunday was aggravated in the worst way by being on the boat for those few hours. It's really deceiving how much sun you're actually getting out there because the movement of the boat and the water keep you cool, but the rays, of course, are still beating down. That sneaked up on me big time, and boy am I paying for it! Cold compresses and aloe for me, please. And maybe a Popsicle...

Day 2 - Florida!

Julie (the mom) informed us shortly after we made it to Hawkinsville that we'd be leaving the next morning to visit Mike (the dad) down in Florida. Sweet! Okay! It was only a 2 1/2 hour drive down to Lake City, FL where there was a hotel waiting for us. And a swimming pool, which I was (as usual) not equipped to enjoy, having told myself that there would be plenty of time to settle in to the new life before needing to look for a suit. Oops. Anywho, the family wanted to go boating, and I needed to make my Sunday, so I stayed behind. By the pool, jealously taking in the youngsters at play in the cool, cool water; I expect no sympathy. I hear you all saying "Um, suck it up. You're in Florida. We won't be swimming for another 2 months." Just tellin' my story....

About 4:30, I left for 6 o'clock Mass in Ocala. Welcome to Baptist country! There is not a Catholic Church around every corner anymore or even in most towns. But, I found a Low Mass at Queen of Peace in Ocala; the church was beautiful. A very open, cool, whitewashed, missionary feel. Enjoy.

The 4 Evangelists in the rafters of the Sanctuary.

Pipes!

Marble built-in altar rail. Lovely.

Side altar

In every corner of the church there were these beautiful HUGE paintings depicting great figures throughout Scripture.

Yep. Pretty huge.

Close up of the lil ol' rooster hanging out with the trumpeting angels.

The rows of pews moved out from the sanctuary to form a cross. There was soooo much space! And the super high ceilings made it feel never-ending and very airy, despite the heat. I'm really glad I made the trip.

Julie decided to stay Memorial Day too, which meant a shopping trip for a new outfit. Darn. :) Good thing too, because I definitely underestimated the power of heat in my Minnesota packing. I mean, it can't be that different, right? I won't die if I just roll up my pants a little and drink alot of water! Obviously, I'm still here; but T-shirt fabric has never felt so heavy. Oh and I found a retro-y polka-dotted (duh) swimsuit! Smiley day.

Headin' on down to Georgia...

The trip to Georgia went smoothly. We left Thursday, shortly after school. Here is the precise route we took to achieve Southern-ness. We stopped in Albert Lea, MN for Thursday night, had a fun breakfast in the morning and hit the road again at about 9am.

Friday took us through Iowa, Missouri and into Illinois. Let me just tell you that throughout the entire city of St. Louis, not a single driver was within 15 mph of the actual speed limit. Signs in this zone dictate 55 mph? Nah, we're just gonna treat this like the 70 mph zone and go 80-85. Man, do they move! Nothing like keeping up with the herd to avoid getting trampled. Now, I'd hate for anyone to think that I don't enjoy the experience of highway driving in a large city. I ain't skurred. I have to admit though that driving through St. Louis on the Friday before a 3-day weekend at 6:30pm (with three kids sleeping in the back of the minivan that don't belong to me) had me white-knuckling it a couple times. A bit further down the road, we hit a right lane closure. Congestion was backed up 4 miles before the actual merging point because all the jerks in the right lane chose to save themselves 3 minutes and cost everyone else about 45 by NOT MERGING!!! God bless the gracious semi driver immediately ahead of us for finally moving right; we worked together to block the rude people and eventually made it through. We decided to bed down in West City, IL.

On Saturday morning, we skipped through Illinois and the corner of Kentucky. The data connection on my phone went away all day, so no GPS or internet. Thankfully I had retained the basic directions and Nate was so good as to confirm the crucial intersections - ok, maybe all of the intersections - over the phone (reiterated note to self: never travel across country without an atlas, just in case). Here are some pics of Whitehaven Welcome Center we stopped by in Paducah, KY. It's the only historic home in the US to be converted into a rest area. Way cool.

Only one side of the main level is public access, with an information desk, tourist pamphlets, etc. The rest is roped off for guided tours, which we did not stick around for, though it would have been fun. We did peek in the windows at the rooms and furniture, which were quite lovely.

Does anyone else find it amusing that "Bide-a-Wee" is now a rest stop for tourists? :)

From there, we continued into Tennessee, through Nashville and Chattanooga where we switched interstates and headed straight for Atlanta. A few turns and a couple hours later we arrived in Hawkinsville, GA.

The only real difference I noticed between the journey here and joy-riding in southern Minnesota was the change in trees. I mean, the country got a little hill-ier, but from Illinois onward, the landscape suddenly ceased to consist of 'our' trees. The further south we went, the more and more strange they looked. I don't think I've completely realized that we're 1500 miles from home. CRAZY!

Fargoan Holiday

Here is the tale of our final date which, pressure notwithstanding, is probably one of our best ever. We didn't actually have a plan for our last day together. Then Nate said, "Why don't we take a walk while we figure it out?" As a hopeless romantic, these are my favorite words in summertime. So, I strapped on my mini backpack and off we went!

Up to Main Ave, across the river to Moorhead

Juano's was our initial destination but they were CLOSED due to the Marathon (boo!). Then it was that we decided to make a day of our little adventure. We hit up a few of our favorite haunts in Fargo, within walking distance of course, and just ordered appetizers. All day long.   !!!!    Right?

First up: Sidestreet in the Howard Johnson. 

But not before we uh, circumvented a well-meaning road block and walked under the 1st Ave bridge along the river. You'll have to take my word on that; we have no incriminating evidence.

Saw some ducks. Ya know. The yuge.

Had a cocktail (Mom, it was like 12:30pm. Technically early afternoon. All the rule books say that's acceptable) and ordered the egg rolls, which are fantastic. They didn't last long.

It was also nice and cool inside, as I'm sure you can tell from these pictures.

  

We ended up getting a great deal of sun, which I'm told is the best of plans before entering an exhaustive heat-zone. Something about damaging the melanin in your skin only mildly at first before subjecting it to the ruthless onslaught of the southern lands. I'll have to let you know how that works for me.

Next stop: Jade Dragon on Main. So all the way down Broadway we sallied forth. Buuuut, when we got to the tracks, we found a train! We waited for a bit.                      ........     ........     .........

As many of you know, there is an antique shop conveniently located at the corner of Broadway and Main. We availed ourselves of the opportunity to look around whilst simultaneously waiting.

Once over the tracks we had to stop at the park next to the train depot. Duh. 

The fountain was still out of commission from winter; we resisted. Rather, Nate wouldn't let me play in the empty fountain. So we have no footage of that fun.

[imaginary picture of Sara dancing and leaping in a ridiculous manner in a dry fountain]

Finally we made it to Jade Dragon. We ordered spring rolls, because they are my favorite thing ever. Not sure why Nate is trying to look evil.

My fortune cookie read "It's not the plan that's important; it's the planning". What does that even mean? I suppose it's meant to be a spin off of the similarly flawed rationale "It's not the destination that matters; it's the journey". Or more recently, "Ain't about what's waiting on the other side; it's the climb". Excuse me for taking anything that the Cyrus-ling has to say with extreme hesitation and mild incredulity. At any rate....

Back downtown for sushi at Wasabi.

But what to choose.....

Delicious!

 

Here is a little man that I made from our crunchy sushi roll crumbs. He should have had a name but we figured it was time to mosey.

On our way back up north, we found some pro-marathon stickers carelessly abandoned in a back alley. This dumpster was asking for it.

First and only act of vandalism.... Check!

Our last stop was Dempsey's. Not because it's a favorite, or even a like. We wanted hot dogs and had it on good authority that this was a suitable place to obtain one.

As it turns out, that is now a Thursday special only. Upside, they are giving them away. For free.. We decided on a pretzel instead. It's served with a unique white cheese sauce. So tasty!!

It was the only time that we've actually been able to sit at the bar counter. To commemorate, we took a 'duck' picture; or at least the best we knew how. Because we're just that geeeorgeous.

It was the most wonderful day. To wrap things up, we took it back south and west, under the University bridge. We're sitting up on the steepish slant with our heads almost touching the bottom of the bridge. Our feet deserved some recognition, having been so helpful throughout our delightful but otherwise impossible travels. Our day would have been so different without you. Props.

Georgia on my mind

Do you remember Mr. Andrew McDonald? (the lost camera guy). He's already said everything that I'd like to share right now, so I'll just let him say it. He has pictures to illustrate and stuff.

It's time to resurrect the blog! This is the best way I know to keep my lovely folks back home up-to-speed with the probable adventures to be had in this summer's travels. Aaaand, it will also encourage me to use the camera I just purchased instead of lazily convincing myself that my general memory of the moment will suffice. There is so much to be seen, and it would be great for my favorite peeps to have a share if they want.  

It's been pretty busy lately: moving to DL to be with my nanny family, helping to pack up their entire house and finally watching it be demolished!! I was hoping for a wrecking ball, but that's just the dramatic in me. It was still pretty neat to see the systematic strategy in the mess, as well as the sheer power of the machines. In less than two hours, the house was completely leveled. Awesome.

While packing up, I found this box from last year's rummage sale. Brady has such a good heart!

We've been living in a motel here in DL since last Monday. Kind of getting into the mindset before we get on the road. 

I was able to make it back home for the weekend. Had a wonderful farewell date with my Boy-Nate on Saturday (pics and story to come). Sunday was great, complete with High Mass for Pentecost and a Happy-Birthday-Catholic-Church potluck. :) Yeah, we had fun with that.

The parents left Saturday afternoon, so it's just the three kiddies and myself until school is out. We'll leave on Thursday night to visit their relatives in the Cities and then...off to Georgia!!  It's gonna be grand!

From The Onion...

Townsfolk gather at dusk to chastise the monster for being so destructive and inconsiderate.

Mob Not Angry At Monster, Just Disappointed
July 26, 2008 | Issue 44•30

CEAMURLIA, ROMANIA—Clearly frustrated by the third disheartening rampage on their town this week, a band of perturbed, torch-wielding villagers gathered at the gates of Dr. Benedikte Cojocaru's castle Monday to confront the monster that had left a trail of inappropriate destruction and chaos, in hopes of communicating how let down they all felt by his murderous actions, sources said.

"What were you thinking?" respected village elder Petar Grul said. "You've been out all night, doing God knows what, while we cower in our homes unable to sleep. Frankly, we're at the end of our rope here."

"Just—just don't say anything," Grul added after the raging creature hurled a massive chunk of masonry down from the parapet at the assembled crowd. "You go think about what you did."

The stern, no-nonsense confrontation was only the latest in a series of vexing monster-related incidents. Over the past year, similar rampages have killed 22 people and an entire flock of sheep, destroyed a flour mill, and left the townspeople wondering if the beast ever even considers their feelings at all.

A number of residents who have lost their patience with the unholy creation said they have tried being mad, but decided it is not worth the effort if the monster is just going to keep crushing the skull of every innocent blacksmith's daughter who makes the mistake of offering him a flower. According to Grul, the townspeople have "had just about enough of this business," and resolved to address the issue openly with a full and frank discussion, "no matter how painful it may be." A two-hour chase through foggy moors ensued, at which point the monster took refuge in the closest thing he had to a home, the castle of his creation.

Abandoning previous tactics of setting more specific boundaries, taking away privileges, and lighting him afire, the mob cornered the beast to unleash their chagrin.

"You may be an abomination in the eyes of God, but that doesn't give you the right to terrorize us," villager Sorin Mironescu yelled. "And don't you try to change the subject by saying you never asked to be created. We all have problems. You are a miracle of science, darn it, and it's time you started acting like one."

Should the mob fail to get through to the monster, sources said its members plan to go home, bolt their doors and windows shut, throw up their arms, and have a long talk about what to do next.

"I just think he's capable of doing so much better," said Stefan Mikrvicz, who has personally had "more than a few" run-ins with the monster. "We're not here to assign blame, but on the other hand, we do feel this situation really needs to be improved."

The monster is reportedly a hideous patchwork of human and animal parts stitched together into a rough approximation of a person, and is possessed of the strength of 10 men. It was created with limbs and organs stolen from graves and was imbued with the spark of life through a powerful magnet by crazed scientist and prominent community figure Doctor Cojocaru, who described himself as "totally exasperated" by the whole ordeal.

"Look at him," said Cojocaru, gesturing to the snarling man-thing pacing the castle's ramparts. "I made him to triumph over death itself and play God, not to sit here and watch him make bad choice after bad choice. Was it me? He's really let us all down, and I just don't know where we went wrong."

Efforts to coax the monster outside for a good talking-to, including pitchfork-waving, rock-throwing, and guilt-tripping, have thus far yielded no positive results.

"He's obviously a smart guy—he mastered the power of human speech without being taught, and that says a lot," villager Theodr Brezeanu said. "But we can't help him unless he helps himself. Right now all he seems to want to do is hang out and drown small children for no good reason."

This is not the first time Ceamurlia has had its expectations dashed by a horrific creature. In 2004, a werewolf tore apart three villagers in a dismaying bloodbath, and in 2007, a local vampire created an army of undead and filled everyone with shame.

Despite the loss of livestock, family members, and trust, many villagers continue to believe the sullen beast will someday straighten up and be more like Count Radulescu's monster, who always makes such nice finger sandwiches for their parties.

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/mob_not_angry_at_monster_just

To pass the time...

It's a Saturday afternoon. I'm in a laundromat. I haven't been in many laundromats; maybe three or four, if I was gonna put a number on it. The one time I remember was when our cleaning system went down back at the farm and we had no choice. The other time was on the road and necessity deemed we wash a load for the sake of the youngest, who had managed to soak through the reservoir so carefully prepared by Mom. Nevertheless, I've never been in a laundromat on my own, in a new town, with almost no money. I could remember that the machines only took quarters; that's pretty stock information. But when did it go up to 3.75 a load?! Thankfully there were some double loaders open, so I'm able to wash 2 huge blankets, 2 small ones and a couple pajama pants for $5. Now to wait for the completion of the wash cycle. I was spoiled with free laundry back home. This sucks. I've promised myself that once my bundle of soggy warmth is in the dryer, I can indulge in some aeromatic cancer. Only a few minutes now...
As little as I visit the laundromat scene, I am perpetually amused by the people there with me. The couple that just walked in, for instance; an almost middle-aged construction worker and his wife (or longtime live-in, can't tell which). She was probably termed "one-of-the-boys", smokes incessantly and was most likely a bartender at one point in her life. They take up 6 washers right off the bat; each basket is sorted accordingly: not-so-white-anymore-whites (I think Hanes' brand is most prominent), about three loads of jeans and t-shirts, and the random compilation of leftovers, followed by the heavy canvas jacket. This couple is very at ease with one another, making simple conversation. It's easy to see they compliment each other and have for years. Ha! She's laughing at a silly story he tells her, complete with sound effects. Can't help but wonder how many months have passed since he treated his greying curls to a trim and wash. She was definitely a beauty in college and still keeps up the hilites.
Then there's the loner in the corner by the windows. His jet black hair is thick, but my guess is he's 40 plus about three years. He has no magazine or crossword, but just sits there watching the mechanics of the dryer. The look on his face tells that he's not easily amused, maybe never. Oh, he's leaving, and makes a joke as he passes the single women unloading her basket of towels. I was wrong about the laughing thing. Glad to see him chuckle.
I've been working on some school assignments for the most part of my wait, using markers to color-code diagrams of bone structure. I'm convinced the mexican couple smoking in their teal mercury outside think I'm doing a color-by-number or something.
The cute college chick just came back from tanning to grab her dry laundry. The guy with her is slightly less attractive but looks like good boyfriend material. Now he's putting quarters in the electric arcade machine across for me.
I just noticed the wallpaper border surrounding the top of the room. It's a would-be pastel of an apron, button-up shirt, hand towel, day dress, socks and a pillowcase all flapping dry on a clothesline. I'm also seeing the sign on the washers: push red button before turning handle. Funny thing: the button is silver.
It's 4:30 now and I want to go home and eat. Almost done. But it's so good to write.

Smoke, grey disperses in wisps
of wistfulness,
clouding an already misty mindset.
Dreading the necessary,
hopelessly hoping all will be well;
preparing for a sudden stop.
Mull over mistakes past,
look back to wrong.
Unready for the hurt to come,
and not even for myself so much.
Easy enough to live without,
painful to say no.
Set an ultimatum,
reek havoc in disgust.
Dissatisfaction plain
status unsure.
Coordinating the heart,
aligning the mind,
bring two together,
even as we part ways.
Take a break, release you,
to save you from losing me.
Patience useful, doubtful,
frightening, images of
a world without you.

Freshly Scented Soap To Cleanse Irish
New Two-Deodorant Soap Will Erase Abdominable Stench Of Unwashed, Potato-Eating Subhumans
April 22, 1998 Issue 33•15

DUBLIN, IRELAND—After centuries of suffering, the people of the world will finally have some much-needed relief from the offending filth of the ubiquitous Irish. The remedy: a new, freshly scented deodorant soap designed specifically with malodorous Irish riff-raff in mind.

The soap, an exciting, logo-embossed consumer product featuring rich lather, an outdoorsy spring-fresh scent and a revolutionary two-deodorant composition, will come in an enticing marbled, green-white color motif deliberately designed to attract persons of Irish descent by appealing subconsciously to deeply rooted Gaelic cultural signifiers.
Said Rodger Watkins, co-chair of the soap development team: "In addition to being doubly powerful in fighting odor-causing Irishness, the soap possesses a specially patented, whimsical image intended to evoke memories of a long-lost mythical Irish arcadia where the Irish gripped blades of grass in their clenched teeth and bathed in the icy waterfalls of dew-dappled woodland ponds, and everything smelled wonderful—so unlike the Ireland of today."
"At last," Watkins said, "decent folk will be able to go outside without having to hold scarves to their noses every time a swarthy, drunken, potato-gorged bricklayer ambles past. Now the Irish will have a tolerable—perhaps even pleasant—scent issuing forth from their pasty, sweaty persons."
Under a new mandate just passed by the U.N. General Assembly, tubs of water and bars of soap will be delivered to all Irish households with clear instructions on appropriate bathing habits. The instructions will be in pictogram form to ensure comprehension on the part of the ignorant, illiterate Irish.
"Although many forms of soap have been developed over the centuries, none were ever powerful enough to cleanse the citizens of the Emerald Isle," Watkins said. "But once they wash themselves fully with this new soap, their abominable stench will be virtually gone."
The turtleneck-clad Watkins said the breakthrough soap leaves all who use it, even the Irish, "fresh and clean as a whistle."
The soap's revolutionary secret, he said, is its "two deodorants."
Watkins demonstrated by displaying a bar of the soap and cutting off a sliver with a knife. A look at a cross-section of the bar's interior revealed clearly defined streaks of green and white, the colors serving as a visual representation of the two odor-fighters.

How Does It Work?
Since the inside of the bar looked exactly like its exterior, it was unclear what this demonstration was intended to accomplish. Witnesses agreed, however, that the use of the knife conveyed a spirit of manly, outdoorsy virility.
"After that display, I almost want to buy the product myself—and I'm neither filthy nor Irish," said observer Sharon Lowenstein.
The Irish-cleansing plan has met with some resistance, particularly from members of the Irish community. "Begorrah," Belfast native Seamus Singleton said. "Oi would sooner snuggy up ter a bumblebee dan dunk me hoide in dat dere bathwash. Noo, surr. Th' best perfoom fer old Seamus be da Earth wot God done made His own self."
In accordance with the new U.N. statute, Singleton was forcibly dunked in a vat of hot water by police and scrubbed until pink. Singleton was then issued new, clean clothing, and his grimy, sweat-stained outfit consisting of a shirt, breeches and tiny green bowler with a shamrock tucked into the band was confiscated. He was permitted to keep his clay pipe.
"The rebellious and confrontational nature of the Irish will be a problem," said Chicago police spokesman Jonathan Franck, whose city is home to more than a million Irish. "But that's what billy clubs are for."
Chicago mayor Richard Daley is tremendously excited about the new soap as well. "We've got a lot of Irish here, that's for sure," he said. "And hooo-wheee, on a hot day, they can smell 'em in Decatur."

Unabashedly stolen from www.theonion.com

indecisive

I almost blame myself.

How can I help it that the separation is for the best? My conscience rebelling against my feelings for you both, my secret desire to let you know, and my shaking cowardice standing aside a need to speak my mind. When my moment comes, there is not courage enough to supplement the difference of belief. I cave into the bosom of denial and bitter self-loathing. And Someone covered for me; taking matters out of my district and bestowing justified calamity to help sort out my conscience, and rectify a state of pristine truthfulness. I rejoice and grieve, feeling treacherous that I can do both or either. Now, I read words to others that I did not write, and bury deep any spark of what I was about to say. It will continue with me unannounced, even though it should have been.

ever so random

I am a Tom Sawyer, not a Huck Finn. So is the Scotty. Meaning that instead of living life on the wild, extreme, I-will-just-run-away-from-home-and-see-where-I-end-up side, we are more cautious and rational, talk people into doing stuff we are hesitant to do; or talk ourselves out of stuff we have done ;). I do confess that sometimes I'm slightly envious of you Huck Finns out there with your spontaneous, screw-the-results attitude. You lead an adventurous life but while I may join in at times, there's just no way I could live my life like that: glorious and irresponsible. Yeah, life is a bowl of cherries. But Juicy Juice can be cool sometimes too. *wink*

The 9 key keeps sticking on my register. I got 2 over-rings today because of it. NOT happy.

Speaking of which, I should catch some sleep. must be at work in 5 hours. Silly me.


Currently Listening:
Veinte Anos by Buena Vista Social Club

hello dearies.
So my bestest and dearest friend leaves for boot camp tomorrow at 9am. yeah. I've cried so much today (which isn't tooooo much, because I am Sara). I'm excited that she will gain new friends and life experience. And I don't feel the least bit selfish in wanting her here with me. I just wish it wasn't so soon. Well, it's not like we haven't known forever when this would happen. But still, it's too soon. too soon.
This is a fair warning that there may be some horribly depressing, verging-on-emo posts coming up. feel free to comment and cheer me up!!!

:)

Upon little to no deliberation, I decided to dress up for work today. As in, wear 3.5 inch heels to work today. I work retail. Funny mental image, ain't it? The mother-like employees asked bluntly, "Girl, are you crazy?"; already knowing the answer, of course. They were just being polite. Then we all got to work after close and assemble lamps. Gotta love their idea of employee bonding. but all pales to the fact that Eddie is coming!! dun dun DUN!!

The weather continues gorgeous.

I have more poetry.


God bless the breeze. *sigh*


currently listening:
Oh, it is Love by hellogoodbye

Here it is. April 4th and it's SNOWING!! I realize that life in North Dakota is kind of a risk like that, but a blizzard isn't all that necessary this time of year. As I say, God has a splendidly cruel sense of irony. It's like He peeked down, saw how much fun we were having, gaily frolicking in the almost green grasses and a tiny bug of thought tugged His ear. hmmm, it's April Fool's. well, not exactly but it's the week of... ah, close enough!! GAAAHH!!! Take that, my lovable little humans!!! Ah, I enjoy this.

I can't wait to meet God. Just a thought.

When in Love

Here I lie,
all darkness about me,
surrounded by the quiet
hum of existence.

The stillness is not complete tonight,
and so I take this moment
to converse with my memory.
Strange that we should
always pick you for our topic
of interest,
but not so strange either.
Now, in the calm,
we return to a lingering image
of your smile,
and recall that it was yesterday you last spoke to me.
I feel like a child
for sharing this,
but I fear it must be said: I love you
in some small way.
And my heavy head, now unburdened of the secret,
may rest fully and
lure the memory to its rightful sleep.

content

Each word you say lifts me to a new height.
Hearing our every thought collide can only serve
to fuse the bond we find between us.

You are, in a word, irresistible.

Choosing my words
but letting my thoughts run,
I endeavor to make you smile,
speaking through the laughter you inspire in me.
And when I perceive your amusement,
I behold with pride what I have created.

Without me, your life would be without
some speck of light,
and I am comforted.

Now as we say goodbye,
each whispering softly what both would freely express,
I admit that your company is precious to me;
leaving it to your subtlty to know I just mean you.

My Confession

It's rather terrible to be somehow reassured in one's own worth by someone else's misfortune. So I ask myself, how can I feel this way? Can I really be that unfeeling and conniving of a person? Of course I love my friends, but at the same time I occasionally get the feeling that I use them to my advantage every once in awhile. Again, I ask.. This can not really be me!??!! It's normal to feel slighted when attention isn't achieved when you need it, but to be indirectly pleased when, because of someone else's bad luck or bad timing, you are made to actually look good?? yes, I am aware now that my life is one of farce,  deception and pretend merry-making. I don't dream at night anymore, but sort of take part in a calculating, dry dialogue that doesn't make sense to anyone present. Silly things gain prominence, the same actions are repeated over and over, and nothing is completed because I always awake and must start again. Why am I not susceptible to the emotion of others; when they cry, oh how I wish I could with them, but nothing is there. I may feel for them, but my eyes have never been so unfruitful. My theory? I am too damn caught up in my own life right now, while pretending even to myself, to be giving, sacrificing, LIVING for others!!! And I have been living, no! existing in this facade without realizing the terrors it can put me up to. It's a horrid thing to be ungrateful. Little would I like to see the finger of guilt pointed in my direction, and I stir awake to witness it shakingly accuse to my very face.

Even as I write, thoughts occur to me: Oh Sara, how wonderful that you could use your words to perhaps be a solace to others, to assure them that they do not experience alone. And some will think better of you when you finish because you had the courage to face your dissatisfaction of your own frailty! Oh, my dears, how subtle! but not really so subtle after all.

Can't you see that I am throwing this out to you, desperately?? as one trapped by something that crept up from within and over-powered its source of life. Oh God help me! Now as I type these characters, there is a rush of irresistible pleasure in being so depressed and in need of help.

Is it possible to be more shallow than this?

-finis-