The First 12 Years

I am not perfect or even good. I am not deserving of all this, of you. Perhaps it is simply luck or divine grace that allows me to be here for reasons unknown. Perhaps it is to help me be more than I could be on my own. Perhaps it is because it is how it was always meant to be. I am not perfect or even good but I am thankful, every single day for this, for us.

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From the book J gave me on our first anniversary shortly after we had seen Il Postino -

Sonnet LXIX

Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,

without you moving, slicing the noon

like a blue flower, without you walking

later through the fog and the cobbles,

without the light you carry in your hand,

golden, which maybe others will not see,

which maybe no one knew was growing

like the red beginnings of a rose.

In short, without your presence: without your coming

suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,

gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are,

since then you are, I am, we are,

and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

Pablo Neruda

Where Do I Go From Here?

I've been thinking about blogging lately but I haven't been doing a lot of blogging lately. I've been facebooking and emailing and reading other blogs but I've been less than inspired to post anything on my own. And then I figured it out...this blog has changed from it's original intentions. At first it was a free form, random thought filled, vague word way to say what's on my mind. I didn't feel the need to explain anything or be anything or edit myself. But then I started morphing it into something else...something that was aware that other people were reading, was aware that judgements could be made or that I could offend. The truth is I like being vague and not explaining myself. I like writing down whatever floats into my head. And, so, that's what I'm going back to...blogging about what I want to blog about, saying what I want to say...no editing, no censoring. Don't say I didn't warn you...

My Moods Are Subject To The Whims Of The Weather (aka 3 weeks of grey skies)

I never know how to answer the rhetorical questions. The "how are yous?" and the "how do you like it theres?" Because these are the questions that are expected to be answered with happy words and smiles. Because that's who I am. Go with the flow, laid back, rolling along. And so I pretend. I smile the required smile. I say it's great and beautiful and so much like home. I walk along with my eyes bright and shiny, a practiced bounce in my proverbial step and I lie. Because there are so few people who want to know the truth. The parts where I'm bored and unsure and, quite honestly, lonelier than I could've imagined are the parts I keep hidden. It's tiring and disheartening but I do it because it's what is expected. And, Lord knows, I'm not going to take back exactly what I wished for.

Wimpy But True

I could survive for 28 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

Created by Bunk Beds.net

Be Careful What You Wish For

Not everything works out the way you think it will. And that, my friends, really sucks. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this after all.