Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Monday, March 14, 2005
Where does offense end and censorship begin?
Last night I decided to rock the boat and play one of my cds at work (Black Star...Mos Def and Talib Kweli). Our typical closing mix ranges from punk...metal...80s to alternative...pop...smooth jazz. I rarely ask to have a cd played but was spurred on by having had to listen to 2 cds within the past month that offended me. A couple of weeks ago Steph played a cd which I thought had racist undertones throughout. It offended me...no...it pissed me off. I got on the intercom and asked what the eff we were listening to. I think people thought I was joking. Then, a couple of nights ago, Marie played something (who knows) with a variety of offensive lines...the one that sticks is "illegitimate son of god". I firmly believe in the freedom of speech and expression and of others to listed to whatever the eff they want to. So, my response was to bring in something I wanted to listen to and see how they liked it...politically driven rap. Rap means a lot to me from a beat perspective and from the cultural importance it has for an entire race of people. Lyrical poet is dead-on description. Well, let's just say it wasn't well received. I immediately began to hear grumblings of distaste from at least 2 corners of the store. Once we hit the "parental advisory" portion of the cd, all bets were off, and it was soon shut down by the closing manager. Was it the cussing that offended her, or the fact that she's an older white lady who can't deal wit the reality of rap? Honestly, I don't know. I know the cussing offended her and, for that, I'm sorry. However, a part of me thinks a little bit of the latter also flavored her opinion. I did apologize to her for offending her. My desire was not to make anyone uncomfortable...though I did want to push the boundaries a bit. Of course, now I'm afraid others may have to suffer for my boldness...they may shut down everyone's evening music selections...
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Comma
Last night was off the chain! The girls came out singing, "Where the soldier at...where they at...where they at...where they at" and the boys came stepping up the aisle. Powerful. Centuries of tradition radiating through these boys as they showed us new way to be. Then Tommy, Marcus and crew got the hype up even more with the rap, "Go, Jesus. He's my dj." Everybody jumping up and down, hand in the air. The church was literally bumping.
All this before we even got a word. The highlights...no one but God can put a period on you or your life (Revelations 1:8 He is the Alpha and Omega...the beginning and the end). When tries to count you out...stop your destiny (period), know that God isn't done and can work it out. Just look at them when they say "...you'll never make" and use that God-given punctuation "comma."
All this before we even got a word. The highlights...no one but God can put a period on you or your life (Revelations 1:8 He is the Alpha and Omega...the beginning and the end). When tries to count you out...stop your destiny (period), know that God isn't done and can work it out. Just look at them when they say "...you'll never make" and use that God-given punctuation "comma."
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Anarchist at heart?
Maybe it's time to mention that I'm not a fan of authority or rules. Don't get me wrong...if I enter a situation where there are already rules set, I'm all about following them. In fact, I'll get super anal then and make sure everyone follows the rules. That said, life is supposed to be fun. Continuously having a game plan and orchestrating every aspect of life takes away the spontaneity. Don't kill the creative in me with structure and process.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Letters from a metro rider
Dear man on the metro,
Your subtle smile and dark, curly hair are distracting me. A few peaceful minutes on the train are all that I ask, but instead, I am struck by your beauty and forced with the reminder of the man I don't have. If you turn your dark eyes, hooded with long lashes toward me, do so with a purpose...so that I may crawl in their depths and get lost. Turn your tall frame and casual strides in my direction...so that I may dream it's me your coming toward. Choose to whisper in my ear...so that I can one again be reminded of how the warm tickle of someone's breath feels.
Your subtle smile and dark, curly hair are distracting me. A few peaceful minutes on the train are all that I ask, but instead, I am struck by your beauty and forced with the reminder of the man I don't have. If you turn your dark eyes, hooded with long lashes toward me, do so with a purpose...so that I may crawl in their depths and get lost. Turn your tall frame and casual strides in my direction...so that I may dream it's me your coming toward. Choose to whisper in my ear...so that I can one again be reminded of how the warm tickle of someone's breath feels.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Has my name been flagged or something?
Maybe it's my roommate's security-clearance job? Maybe the fact that I announce loudly and often that I hate GW Bush and that there is anarchy in my cube? Maybe it's that I work for an environmental group and, as a community, have been labeled as terrorists by this Administration? Who knows, but whatever the reason, I now seem to have a flagged ticket every time I fly. This means I get sheparded to a special area and get to undergo special "security" measures. What security measures, you ask? Having that special security wand waved over every inch of your body while you stand there, legs spread and jacket-less. It's getting a body pat-down and having all of your carry-on items thoroughly searched. It's having your reading material examined to make sure you didn't bring anything subversive. Good thing the guard wasn't literate enough to know about Henry Miller.
In other airline news, one of women I sat by proceeded to try to fix me up with her single son who works in Hastert's office and ended up giving another couple a ride home to Chantilly (weird, weird story but basically nice people....hopefully).
In other airline news, one of women I sat by proceeded to try to fix me up with her single son who works in Hastert's office and ended up giving another couple a ride home to Chantilly (weird, weird story but basically nice people....hopefully).
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Do I have to go home
I've always wondered why people flock to the beach and have continued to proclaim throughout the years that "I'm just not a beach person." Well, tell the next landlocked, desert-raised person you meet that they just don't know what they're talking about. Hallelujah! I'm a convert. This kentucky-fried girl (because I am rather toasty) has discovered a new career goal...beach bum.
After wandering the stormy beach and being trapped indoors on Sunday only to watch the waves pounding the beach from afar, I woke up with the sun on Monday and headed down to the beach. I spent a few issues getting over my sand issues and watching the few locals that were out. The public beach was great...what it lacked in pasty tourists (save myself) it made up for in bronze gods from the police force. Turns out several officers (young) jog the park and take a morning swim. Aye dios! When they got out of the water, I had to watch myself to keep from drooling. They make gold chains look good. Anyway, after they left I dove right in. Ok, I didn't really dive but crept hesitantly in. You have to remember that I'm a river girl who has to admit that the deep secrets of the ocean give me the willies. Needless to say, I was hooked after a few minutes. I stayed in the water for almost two hours while I watched the local surfers and let the waves toss me around. Only my hunger for lunch and the desire to venture back into old San Juan got me out.
After showering away the salt, I plopped my hat on my head and took off for old San Juan. My goal...mexican food and supposedly the best margarita on the island. Twenty minutes later said margarita was in front of me and kicking my butt. One drink and I felt tipsy. How 'bout some margarita with your tequila? Four sips later and I had to let the margarita go. Had I finished I would have been dancing on tables and looking for guys legs to hug. So, heading back out into the bright light of day I strolled around San Juan for about 20 minutes before I began to feel the beach calling my name. It was hotter than hades, and I knew the only cure was the beach, the surf, and supposedly one of the original pina colodas.
Once back at the hotel, I again threw on my bathing suit and this time took off for the private beaches of the Hilton Caribe. Not only did they have good beach chairs and pool boys, they are supposedly home to one of the original and best pina coladas (available at the bar you can swim up to). Since they are just around the corner from my hotel, I grabbed my stuff and strolled in like I owned the place. After grabbing said pina colada, I found a lounger on the beach and settled in. Well, the pina colada was nothing to write home about and I missed the local boys (Hilton was filled with pasty tourists like myself), but the sun was warm, the breeze on target and the chair comfy. I promptly fell asleep. An hour later I was awake and again frolicking in the ocean. This is pretty much how my day went. Sun...swim...sun...swim.
Do I have to leave today?
After wandering the stormy beach and being trapped indoors on Sunday only to watch the waves pounding the beach from afar, I woke up with the sun on Monday and headed down to the beach. I spent a few issues getting over my sand issues and watching the few locals that were out. The public beach was great...what it lacked in pasty tourists (save myself) it made up for in bronze gods from the police force. Turns out several officers (young) jog the park and take a morning swim. Aye dios! When they got out of the water, I had to watch myself to keep from drooling. They make gold chains look good. Anyway, after they left I dove right in. Ok, I didn't really dive but crept hesitantly in. You have to remember that I'm a river girl who has to admit that the deep secrets of the ocean give me the willies. Needless to say, I was hooked after a few minutes. I stayed in the water for almost two hours while I watched the local surfers and let the waves toss me around. Only my hunger for lunch and the desire to venture back into old San Juan got me out.
After showering away the salt, I plopped my hat on my head and took off for old San Juan. My goal...mexican food and supposedly the best margarita on the island. Twenty minutes later said margarita was in front of me and kicking my butt. One drink and I felt tipsy. How 'bout some margarita with your tequila? Four sips later and I had to let the margarita go. Had I finished I would have been dancing on tables and looking for guys legs to hug. So, heading back out into the bright light of day I strolled around San Juan for about 20 minutes before I began to feel the beach calling my name. It was hotter than hades, and I knew the only cure was the beach, the surf, and supposedly one of the original pina colodas.
Once back at the hotel, I again threw on my bathing suit and this time took off for the private beaches of the Hilton Caribe. Not only did they have good beach chairs and pool boys, they are supposedly home to one of the original and best pina coladas (available at the bar you can swim up to). Since they are just around the corner from my hotel, I grabbed my stuff and strolled in like I owned the place. After grabbing said pina colada, I found a lounger on the beach and settled in. Well, the pina colada was nothing to write home about and I missed the local boys (Hilton was filled with pasty tourists like myself), but the sun was warm, the breeze on target and the chair comfy. I promptly fell asleep. An hour later I was awake and again frolicking in the ocean. This is pretty much how my day went. Sun...swim...sun...swim.
Do I have to leave today?
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Taste of the normal
Well, I awoke early this morning to head down to the beach (stake an early claim on my patch of sand) only to find the rain coming down in sheets. My hope is that it will be a fast tropical storm that will move through quickly, allowing me beach time later today. So, in order to ride out the rain near a window, why not update you on my yesterday.
Yesterday, a sunny, beautiful day I might add, I decided to partake in a normal weekend ritual caribbean style...the biggest mall in the caribbean...Plaza Las Americas. Mall...you say. Yes, I was looking to get a little local flavor and perhaps some early summer finds. My day began in true (from what I hear) Puerto Rican fashion by waiting almost an hour for the bus to arrive. Evidently public transportation in San Juan is notoriously unreliable. I was to the point of giving up my wait when the B21 came rattling around the corner (and I do mean rattling). Once aboard the bus, it was a 30 minute ride through parts of San Juan I had yet to explore. We passed many cute apartments and condos I'm resisting looking into.
The mall was a typical large mall with a mix of Puerto Rico and the Americanization of the world. After an Argentinian meal, I did manage some great finds. The sauciest little salsa top that looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. I also managed a black pashmina wrap and a smashing crock clutch in my favorite turquoise color. All my finds came to roughly $28.
As I was smugly basking in the glow of my purchases, I stumbled upon a Borders. Hmmm...must resist putting in an application and moving to the islands. Only the thought that a real job would be hard to find is holding me back. Across from Borders was a movie theater, so I decided to see Coach Carter. How great to see an American movie with Spanish subtitles.
After waiting another 30 minutes (listening to the local lowdown on taxis and the public transportation system from two great women) to catch the last bus back to my hotel, I finally made it back. One thing that struck me all day was how I was continually taken for a native (there are really pale Puerto Ricans and red is the hair color of choice). People would come up and just start speaking Spanish to me. How sad is it that I adored this? It, of course, was less cute and more challenging when I was the last person the bus and trying to convey which stop I needed to a driver anxious to get home.
Perhaps I'll scrounge up some breakfast while I wait for the rain to break.
Yesterday, a sunny, beautiful day I might add, I decided to partake in a normal weekend ritual caribbean style...the biggest mall in the caribbean...Plaza Las Americas. Mall...you say. Yes, I was looking to get a little local flavor and perhaps some early summer finds. My day began in true (from what I hear) Puerto Rican fashion by waiting almost an hour for the bus to arrive. Evidently public transportation in San Juan is notoriously unreliable. I was to the point of giving up my wait when the B21 came rattling around the corner (and I do mean rattling). Once aboard the bus, it was a 30 minute ride through parts of San Juan I had yet to explore. We passed many cute apartments and condos I'm resisting looking into.
The mall was a typical large mall with a mix of Puerto Rico and the Americanization of the world. After an Argentinian meal, I did manage some great finds. The sauciest little salsa top that looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. I also managed a black pashmina wrap and a smashing crock clutch in my favorite turquoise color. All my finds came to roughly $28.
As I was smugly basking in the glow of my purchases, I stumbled upon a Borders. Hmmm...must resist putting in an application and moving to the islands. Only the thought that a real job would be hard to find is holding me back. Across from Borders was a movie theater, so I decided to see Coach Carter. How great to see an American movie with Spanish subtitles.
After waiting another 30 minutes (listening to the local lowdown on taxis and the public transportation system from two great women) to catch the last bus back to my hotel, I finally made it back. One thing that struck me all day was how I was continually taken for a native (there are really pale Puerto Ricans and red is the hair color of choice). People would come up and just start speaking Spanish to me. How sad is it that I adored this? It, of course, was less cute and more challenging when I was the last person the bus and trying to convey which stop I needed to a driver anxious to get home.
Perhaps I'll scrounge up some breakfast while I wait for the rain to break.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Day 2
Today was amazing. I slept late...which I felt a little guilty about, but hey, that's what vacations are for, right? After finally rousing myself, I hopped a bus near the hotel and ventured into old San Juan. Scarlet, you were so right. It was amazing. The narrow streets and rolling hills. All or the shops, each painted a different, vibrant color with amazing ironwork on their balconies. I wandered the narrow streets peeping in on interesting shops for a few hours. I even managed to find Butterfly People, a unique gallery that was on my list. Hopefully, I'll the time and money to stop back by before I leave and buy one of their butterfly sculptures. After having a chimichanga for lunch at Lupe's, I went in search of the Nuyorican Cafe, so I'll have a better idea of where to go tomorrow night. Actually searching for an address is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It took me a good 30 minutes just to realize that the street names are actually on the sides of the building. Well, I never found the Nuyorican Cafe, but I did stumble onto the San Cristobal and the ocean. If I were more lyric, I could describe how it took my breath away. I also found a terribly cute house for sale facing that fab ocean. This little fuschia house could be mine, if I knew how to save money. I actually had to check myself from actually writing down the realtors number. I wanted that little fuschia house.
After I got back to the hotel, I decided a dip in the pool was in order (prepping myself for tomorrow's beach time). The water was freezing, but it was nice to have it to myself. Have I mentioned that it has been extremely cloudy since I arrived. Maybe Sara was right...I do bring bad weather. Hopefully, it will be sunny tomorrow as I'm looking to get a little color.
My hotel is almost smack dab between old San Juan and the Condado district. In other words, it's not by much except the public beach and a nice park. I mention this because I wasn't sure what to do about dinner. I still don't feel entirely comfortable walking the streets at night by myself, so I ended up over at Morton's (in the Hilton Caribe next door). What a swank dinner. Allie, I had two of possibly the best cosmos in celebration of your birthday and had to stop myself from hitting on the cute waiters. I'm not really a red meat eater, so perhaps I should blame it on the cosmos, but eating steak was a really sensual experience. It could have also been sensory overload for the day. Anyway, it was a fab meal, and I probably won't be able to afford anything at Butterfly People now. Cie la vie.
After I got back to the hotel, I decided a dip in the pool was in order (prepping myself for tomorrow's beach time). The water was freezing, but it was nice to have it to myself. Have I mentioned that it has been extremely cloudy since I arrived. Maybe Sara was right...I do bring bad weather. Hopefully, it will be sunny tomorrow as I'm looking to get a little color.
My hotel is almost smack dab between old San Juan and the Condado district. In other words, it's not by much except the public beach and a nice park. I mention this because I wasn't sure what to do about dinner. I still don't feel entirely comfortable walking the streets at night by myself, so I ended up over at Morton's (in the Hilton Caribe next door). What a swank dinner. Allie, I had two of possibly the best cosmos in celebration of your birthday and had to stop myself from hitting on the cute waiters. I'm not really a red meat eater, so perhaps I should blame it on the cosmos, but eating steak was a really sensual experience. It could have also been sensory overload for the day. Anyway, it was a fab meal, and I probably won't be able to afford anything at Butterfly People now. Cie la vie.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
They've got a business center...
Well, the hotel has a computer with internet access, so it looks like just may do a bit of blogging at night. Today was a long day, what with the flight and all, but the ocean is beautiful. After I got settled into the hotel, I went out back to watch the sun set and waves roll in. I've always said I'm not much of a beach girl, but I may have to amend that. I am so going surfing before I leave...believe that : )
On a lighter note...two things one should avoid before leaving on a beach vacation.
(1) Only getting 2 hours sleep - Somehow I got it in my head that it would be a good idea to make a meal and do some cleaning around midnight. I was so knocked out on the plane that I started snoring. How embarassing!
(2) Go crazy with Nair - I got a little overzealous with the Nair trying to take care of the bikini line and am now as bald as a baby. Perhaps this is too much information, but blogs are for sharing, right?
On a lighter note...two things one should avoid before leaving on a beach vacation.
(1) Only getting 2 hours sleep - Somehow I got it in my head that it would be a good idea to make a meal and do some cleaning around midnight. I was so knocked out on the plane that I started snoring. How embarassing!
(2) Go crazy with Nair - I got a little overzealous with the Nair trying to take care of the bikini line and am now as bald as a baby. Perhaps this is too much information, but blogs are for sharing, right?
Monday, January 24, 2005
Evil bitch from hell resurfaces
A few years ago my roommate and I worked for the same company. It was hear I began to learn the subtle lessons of covert workplace racism. Maybe I was a bit pollyanna, but I believed we had put most of this behind us. Little did I know. It was here I got my first peek at huge pay discrepencies...promotions being withheld...even senior vice presidents making up complete lies people to hold them back. They even promoted an underling (to a VP position) who had made overt racist comments that everyone knew about. My roommate's boss did all of this and more. If it had been me, I don't know how I would have kept from slapping the bitch. My roommate, however, was the picture of calm to their face and stealthily plotted her departure. Some four years later my roommate is at a job she loves with pretty decent people. Her boss recently got promoted, so they've been interviewing people to replace her, and guess who comes in to interview for the position. The bitch who was her boss at the old place. Seeing this evil piece of slime literally caused my roommate to get physically ill. She (who doesn't drink) actually had 3 drinks at happy hour because she was so torn up about it. I truly wish I had the time and vocabulary to paint a true portrait of how fucked up this woman is. Well...what's done in the dark shall be revealed in the light, so hopefully she will get hers someday.
He's just not that into you...hmmm
I broke down and bought the latest get a clue book, "He's Just Not That Into You", because a book group I'm a member of but have never attended is having a discussion on it at my apartment. Why not, I thought. I can use some enlightening.
I've only read the first few pages, so I haven't been fully enlightened yet, but already I'm getting mixed vibes about the book.
(1) Duh. Isn't it only common sense that a man who doesn't call you and doesn't ask you out isn't that into you? Of course, now that I've gotten all snooty on you, I do have to admit that I've fallen victim to my own demented mind and have created elaborate fantasies based on the fact that he touched my shoulder or he sure does flirt a lot...thinking to myself that he must be into me. Guess I should continue telling myself to get a clue : )
(2) Antiquated. A girl should never ask a guy out? Never? Men were born to play the hunter/gatherer role and we just can't take that away from them. I'm not sure I buy it. I'm not saying asking a guy out is the preferred alternative (trust me...I have no desire to do this) but to say it will never work out seems a bit over the top.
Who knows...I've put the book to the side for the moment but maybe I'll pick it back up in Puerto Rico...along with what Ravena calls my intellectual smut.
I've only read the first few pages, so I haven't been fully enlightened yet, but already I'm getting mixed vibes about the book.
(1) Duh. Isn't it only common sense that a man who doesn't call you and doesn't ask you out isn't that into you? Of course, now that I've gotten all snooty on you, I do have to admit that I've fallen victim to my own demented mind and have created elaborate fantasies based on the fact that he touched my shoulder or he sure does flirt a lot...thinking to myself that he must be into me. Guess I should continue telling myself to get a clue : )
(2) Antiquated. A girl should never ask a guy out? Never? Men were born to play the hunter/gatherer role and we just can't take that away from them. I'm not sure I buy it. I'm not saying asking a guy out is the preferred alternative (trust me...I have no desire to do this) but to say it will never work out seems a bit over the top.
Who knows...I've put the book to the side for the moment but maybe I'll pick it back up in Puerto Rico...along with what Ravena calls my intellectual smut.
Friday, January 14, 2005
I found a hotel...I found a hotel...
Finding a hotel in San Juan proved a challenge only in that I wanted something charming, cheap and near the beach. It's so hard to tell from travel books what is really going on. One hotel I was eyeing that got good reviews in Let's Go! got horrible reviews from guests online. As a single woman traveling alone, I also wanted something where I felt safe and would be comfortable if the weather turned out to be rotten. So enter the Normandie Hotel...not bad, eh?
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Chantico the fantico drinko
I'm a girl who can rough it with the best of them. I've eaten bugs, used the forest as my bathroom and slept on the floor of a bamboo hut with no electricity. But, this girl was also made to experience a little luxury every once in a while. Enter Chantico, Starbuck's new "drinking chocolate". Warm, rich, and caffeinated...I felt like I could be sipping it on my balcony in Andalucia watching the crowds stroll by. Heavenly. It made getting to work at 6:45 am a little more bearable.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
*Watch these rentals*
We rented a crapload of movies this weekend, but my two favorite (sorry Napoleon Dynamite) were (1) Saved! and (2) Dirty Pretty Things. If you haven't seen them already, make haste to the video store and pick them up. (1) funny, satirical, true...(2) honest and lovely. I'm terrible at reviews, but hell, I do think both of these are worth picking up.
Early morning flight tomorrow back home and just know that I am going to be awoken at 3:30 am to begin the 5 hour trek to the Dallas airport. Happy birthday, Charlie! Your gift will be in the mail when I get home (Eragon and my laptop...some surprise, huh?).
Early morning flight tomorrow back home and just know that I am going to be awoken at 3:30 am to begin the 5 hour trek to the Dallas airport. Happy birthday, Charlie! Your gift will be in the mail when I get home (Eragon and my laptop...some surprise, huh?).
Monday, December 27, 2004
Sunshine and waves...here I come!
What did Santa bring this merry blogger? A trip to Puerto Rico! 5 days at the end of January spent learning to surf, kayaking the ocean, and roaming the streets of old San Juan. I am so psyched! I don't expect a tan, but some old fashioned R&R and fun in the sun is definitely in order. Some salsa at night with a cute Puerto Rican wouldn't hurt either : ) I just have to pick up my ticket at the airport when I fly back to DC tomorrow. Ahhhhh (the sound of stress leaving my body).
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Retreated, rested and back
I'm back, and I have the say the retreat turned out to be a smashing success from a staff bonding perspective. I work with some really great people who are freaking hilarious. There was much poker, dancing, and falling down (and whacking one's head against the stairs). My body is still sore from that last night.
I also came to the realization on the drive home with Steve yesterday that I need to do something about BN. I need to either (1) drastically cut back my hours or (2) start making the job work for me. If I'm going to working there so many hours, then I need to start spending my money on things that will make me happy (surfing lessons, a new canoe, some vacation time, spa visits, a trip to Africa, grad school). Once I start grad school, I'll have to cut back on my hours anyway, but in the meantime, I need to cut back on the books and focus on other things I want out of life. Life is too short, and while I'm working hard, I'm seriously slacking in the 'play hard' arena.
I also came to the realization on the drive home with Steve yesterday that I need to do something about BN. I need to either (1) drastically cut back my hours or (2) start making the job work for me. If I'm going to working there so many hours, then I need to start spending my money on things that will make me happy (surfing lessons, a new canoe, some vacation time, spa visits, a trip to Africa, grad school). Once I start grad school, I'll have to cut back on my hours anyway, but in the meantime, I need to cut back on the books and focus on other things I want out of life. Life is too short, and while I'm working hard, I'm seriously slacking in the 'play hard' arena.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
A snippet of new fiction by raven_ous1278...
Let me know if you like it, and I'll see if he'll give me more to post...
Dusk rolled swiftly into night and the pale moon flirted aimlessly among the clouds dancing in and out of sight teasing the watchful eyes of on lookers below. In full glory it cast an eerie silver hue about us as we walked hand in hand, my warmth flowing into her and hers into mine. Avoiding all care of the world around us seemed to be the most important mission of the evening. We wrapped ourselves in each others presence hoping only for this moment or the next to last forever. Nothing lasts forever. I recall now the sounds of the world around me, the shallow river rolling over stone, the breeze that tossed about the trees above. The cold night air caused her cheeks to flush, and she stopped, drew me in close to feel the warmth of my body. Her breathing was swift and shallow, and as we touched I could feel her heart beating swiftly even through her sweater. I loved that sweater. She laid her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around me, her auburn hair just above my chin flowing gently in the breeze. The scent of berries and spices overcame me and at that moment I felt alive.
I felt her tug gently and pull her head back, resting her weight in the cradle of my arms. She looked at me and a smile came. She had a lot of different smiles as many of us do, both devious and stern, sad and contemplative, warm and forgiving, but this smile was mine and only mine, I saw it on occasion and it filled me with warmth every time, it was real not forced, it was emotion, it was love and it was just for me.
She took a step back, now grasping my hands in hers and I could quickly feel the warmth drain from them as they were embraced by the wind. She looked into my eyes and I looked into hers and I was suddenly compelled to speak. The words “I love you” came only seconds too late, for at that moment as I drew my breath; she spoke, “I love someone else.” Nothing lasts forever.
The rush of emotions that followed need not be mentioned in full for they are far too many to list and it would read like a chapter of Numbers in the Bible; sadness beget depression, depression beget pity, pity beget anger, so on and so forth. Let’s just say I was overwhelmed. I would like to say at this point I was shocked, that I hadn’t seen it coming, that I was blindsided by this obvious act of malice. That of course would be untrue; there are always signs that point to such things, pointing to the “inevitable” as I like to call it.
Dusk rolled swiftly into night and the pale moon flirted aimlessly among the clouds dancing in and out of sight teasing the watchful eyes of on lookers below. In full glory it cast an eerie silver hue about us as we walked hand in hand, my warmth flowing into her and hers into mine. Avoiding all care of the world around us seemed to be the most important mission of the evening. We wrapped ourselves in each others presence hoping only for this moment or the next to last forever. Nothing lasts forever. I recall now the sounds of the world around me, the shallow river rolling over stone, the breeze that tossed about the trees above. The cold night air caused her cheeks to flush, and she stopped, drew me in close to feel the warmth of my body. Her breathing was swift and shallow, and as we touched I could feel her heart beating swiftly even through her sweater. I loved that sweater. She laid her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around me, her auburn hair just above my chin flowing gently in the breeze. The scent of berries and spices overcame me and at that moment I felt alive.
I felt her tug gently and pull her head back, resting her weight in the cradle of my arms. She looked at me and a smile came. She had a lot of different smiles as many of us do, both devious and stern, sad and contemplative, warm and forgiving, but this smile was mine and only mine, I saw it on occasion and it filled me with warmth every time, it was real not forced, it was emotion, it was love and it was just for me.
She took a step back, now grasping my hands in hers and I could quickly feel the warmth drain from them as they were embraced by the wind. She looked into my eyes and I looked into hers and I was suddenly compelled to speak. The words “I love you” came only seconds too late, for at that moment as I drew my breath; she spoke, “I love someone else.” Nothing lasts forever.
The rush of emotions that followed need not be mentioned in full for they are far too many to list and it would read like a chapter of Numbers in the Bible; sadness beget depression, depression beget pity, pity beget anger, so on and so forth. Let’s just say I was overwhelmed. I would like to say at this point I was shocked, that I hadn’t seen it coming, that I was blindsided by this obvious act of malice. That of course would be untrue; there are always signs that point to such things, pointing to the “inevitable” as I like to call it.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Refreshed...perhaps
Ahhh...a long weekend with lots of sleep on Thursday and Friday. I love sleep. I skipped the traditional Thanksgiving activities (i.e., eating) and spent the day at the movies. My fave of the day was Finding Neverland (so good). It was a magical movie that reaffirmed my love for Johnny Depp, reading, and holding onto a youthful spirit no matter your age.
It's been a week (or almost) since I mentioned the crush, so I don't feel too bad about drafting a wee post on the subject. Said crush still continues to say all of the right things...it's disturbing. However, I have a very real grasp on the fact that this is simply a fantasy of mine that keeps me occupied and will never come to reality. I don't need to read He's Just Not That Into You to figure that out. Besides, I'm looking for a guy who can approach me properly. I'm waiting for someone who's bold enough to step up to the plate and lay it on the line. And...I've finally discovered two flaws...ha! His reading material (which was an original positive, since he actually decided to read one of my favorite books and really liked it) has become a current negative. The last book he read was a bestseller I can't mention b/c it might narrow down who he is. This could actually cut both ways...he's sensitive and sentimental or he's into sappy bestselling novels (what does that say about him...wow, I sound like the book snobs that get on my nerves). Unfortunately, I can't mention the second flaw because that could totally give away his identity to some. (A...I'm ready to reveal but not via blogland or at BN.)
It's been a week (or almost) since I mentioned the crush, so I don't feel too bad about drafting a wee post on the subject. Said crush still continues to say all of the right things...it's disturbing. However, I have a very real grasp on the fact that this is simply a fantasy of mine that keeps me occupied and will never come to reality. I don't need to read He's Just Not That Into You to figure that out. Besides, I'm looking for a guy who can approach me properly. I'm waiting for someone who's bold enough to step up to the plate and lay it on the line. And...I've finally discovered two flaws...ha! His reading material (which was an original positive, since he actually decided to read one of my favorite books and really liked it) has become a current negative. The last book he read was a bestseller I can't mention b/c it might narrow down who he is. This could actually cut both ways...he's sensitive and sentimental or he's into sappy bestselling novels (what does that say about him...wow, I sound like the book snobs that get on my nerves). Unfortunately, I can't mention the second flaw because that could totally give away his identity to some. (A...I'm ready to reveal but not via blogland or at BN.)
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Thank you...
Since Thanksgiving is tomorrow and the likelihood of me actually posting is slim, I thought I'd share with you a few things I'm thankful for. Everytime I start to get down about the way things are going, it's nice to reflect on how good I actually have it.
I'm thankful for...
1) ...the way God continually saves my ass. His love keeps me strong.
2) ...an awesome family that, even though we may all have our quirks and have a little trouble sharing our inner thoughts, loves me unconditionally.
3) ...friends that have my back.
4) ...a warm, cocoon-like bed and a good book.
5) ...people who are willing to stand up and fight to make a difference.
6) ...Diet Coke.
7) ...my soul mate. I know you're out there.
8) ...the jobs I have and the peace they give me.
9) ...rainy days...a cool breeze...and fresh mountain air.
10) ...bubble bath.
11) ...Thailand and Taiwan. What an amazing experience! I'm not sure I would have found myself as quickly had it not been for these two places.
12) ...Shiloh Baptist Church.
I'm thankful for...
1) ...the way God continually saves my ass. His love keeps me strong.
2) ...an awesome family that, even though we may all have our quirks and have a little trouble sharing our inner thoughts, loves me unconditionally.
3) ...friends that have my back.
4) ...a warm, cocoon-like bed and a good book.
5) ...people who are willing to stand up and fight to make a difference.
6) ...Diet Coke.
7) ...my soul mate. I know you're out there.
8) ...the jobs I have and the peace they give me.
9) ...rainy days...a cool breeze...and fresh mountain air.
10) ...bubble bath.
11) ...Thailand and Taiwan. What an amazing experience! I'm not sure I would have found myself as quickly had it not been for these two places.
12) ...Shiloh Baptist Church.
Monday, November 22, 2004
I swear I'm not always this lame.
Ok, I promise that this will be my last blog about this topic for at least a week. I didn't start blogging to talk about boys, and I don't want it to seem like that all I care about (it's really not). But...I am seriously crushing. I mean...it's painful...it makes me ache (ok, not quite in the way your dirty, dirty mind is taking you). Every day I find out some new bit of info that makes him seem more and more perfect, and so, of course, I start getting more and more skeptical. I mean...it all has to be an act, right? Anyway, in addition to my skeptical mistrust of others kicking in, so does the self doubt. I'm not "cute" enough...I'm too fat. Do I think these things should matter? No. Do I believe them every day? No. Is that stopping me from thinking them now? No. See how self-absorbed this post is? Anyway, did I mention I'm seriously crushing on someone?
Friday, November 19, 2004
Monday, November 15, 2004
Am I in over my head?
November is a crazy month, and I'm beginning to stress. Sometimes I feel like I'm swinging from a rope that is dangling from a helicopter flying over a cliff...and my hands are sweaty. Am I trying to do too much only to fail at everything? I have to ask myself why I feel the need to work two 40-hour jobs when I could keep one full-time job and be content to sell a few books at BN a couple of days a week. Why do I continue to stress myself by taking a lead position when I could just ride it out? In my *free* time this month, I still have to (1) study for and take the GRE; (2) finish my personal statement for grad school; (3) meet some major deadlines at AmRivers that I'm not motivated to meet; (4) work with Tyree to prepare a long-term funding plan for Victim to Victory and somehow manage to lobby and secure a new line-item in the approps bill through Rep. Moran; (5) finish a 50,000-word novel for NaNoWriMo; and (6) sleep. Right now, I'd just be happy to accomplish #6 and have all but failed at #5.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Are we all destined to follow?
I've been thinking a lot lately about how it seems many of us need to be so like others. More specifically, this post was spurred by the buzz about red and blue states going on all around me. Why is this now the latest craze in labeling? Red and blue this...red and blue that...red state jokes. It's driving me crazy! The trend continues with food. Why do people eat at chain restaurants when they visit new places? Given the opportunity, I'd rather eat bad food at someplace new than bore myself to death with the same old thing. And shopping...why is Old Navy or Abercrombie and Fitch so cool? Because they dress everyone the same! I thought I was above the fray. Being fat, I could always use the excuse that I had limited places to shop; however, the other day I discovered well-designed fleece in my size. I bought this fleece because, yes, it's soft and warm but mostly because it's what practically everyone at AmRivers wears and would allow me to fit in better. I realized at the time this was why I was doing it and was deeply ashamed...yet I still walked out of the store with my fleece. I really don't want to be like everyone else.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Moral authority...is it just for the republicans?
WARNING--I'm going to rant here, and I'm going to talk about religion. If these bother you, you may want to stop reading here.
I've been scanning various articles and reading emails zipping back and forth at work talking about virtual hugs and how religion and morals won Bush his re-election, and to tell you truth, I'm so freaking sick of it. Virtual hug...give me a break. We need to get up off of our sappy liberal butts and DO SOMETHING. I'm Christian. I try to live a moral life. And, I'm liberal and tend to vote democrat. Abortion and gay rights are not the only issues that matter or SHOULD matter to people claiming to vote the moral high road. What about looking for a candidate who actively works to help the poor and homeless, develops policies that promote sound stewardship of the planet, seeks creative solutions for foreign policy that don't involve war, looks at tackling the civil rights abuses happening all over our country rather than eroding our individual freedoms (God gave us free will...who is the president to take it away?)...? I have to stop because the more I write the more drained I get. Democrats need to co-opt a bit from the republicans and start talking about their issues in terms of doing what's morally right.
I've been scanning various articles and reading emails zipping back and forth at work talking about virtual hugs and how religion and morals won Bush his re-election, and to tell you truth, I'm so freaking sick of it. Virtual hug...give me a break. We need to get up off of our sappy liberal butts and DO SOMETHING. I'm Christian. I try to live a moral life. And, I'm liberal and tend to vote democrat. Abortion and gay rights are not the only issues that matter or SHOULD matter to people claiming to vote the moral high road. What about looking for a candidate who actively works to help the poor and homeless, develops policies that promote sound stewardship of the planet, seeks creative solutions for foreign policy that don't involve war, looks at tackling the civil rights abuses happening all over our country rather than eroding our individual freedoms (God gave us free will...who is the president to take it away?)...? I have to stop because the more I write the more drained I get. Democrats need to co-opt a bit from the republicans and start talking about their issues in terms of doing what's morally right.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Aged like a fine wine...not!
I've been doing the election thing and the sick thing for the past couple of days but was going through blog withdrawal.
Going through this election and reading everyone's blog posts is really making me feel my age. Lots of people voting for the first time in a presidential race...poor hopeful souls. Sad to believe it's my 3rd presidential race to vote. And, while I am as anti-Bush as they come, I can't say I'm shocked. Very sad though--I allowed myself a glimmer of hope when I saw the high election turnout. One credo I know to be true is to never underestimate the stupidity of the American public. For the most part, we are not a country of free thinkers. We think and vote the way we were raised and the way our communities want us to. I forget the statistic, but one's political leanings are largely determined by the political leanings of one's parents. It's a vicious cycle that needs to be stopped in order to affect real change in this country.
I spent most of election day in this weird, sad reminiscent state. I couldn't help thinking about election night four years ago...the night I began to lose my idealism. Don't get me wrong...I still believe in change and that we can make this country a better place, but I am so much more cynical and cautious. Four years ago I had taken a leave of absence from my job and moved to Nashville for 2 months to work on the Gore campaign. It was exciting and empowering...heady stuff. I remember spending most of the day calling radio stations and trying to get them to talk about the election abuses going on...people being turned away from the polls. I remember watching the results come in on election night and screaming with joy and whooping it up as we began to hear we had won key swing states like Michigan and Pennsylvania. There was joy and bonding in knowing we had all worked 15-hour days for weeks to make this happen. We hadn't slept in the past 2 days at all and were wired on caffeine. We had our passes to the victory party, and I had friends who had flown into Nashville to join me in the celebration. We thought we had won. Next thing I know something has happened...Florida is not ours...they're calling the election differently. Gore is about to concede. Everyone is either in a state of shock or in tears. This one woman (Candy), who has been heading up radio ops at the DNC forever, was sobbing. Wait...we're not conceding because something fishy is going on. A light of hope=more hugging. Looks like we're not going to the party but hanging by the TV at headquarters. We're there for hours. There is no resolution. We all role back to the apartment around 4 am. My poor friends have finally made it back there, too, after not having seen me all day. We all crash. The next day headquarters is like a ghost town. We're scheduled to leave in a couple of days, and we don't know what to do. I feel like a zombie...this feeling does not go away over the next couple of weeks. Lots of counting...lots of bickering...a court fight...asshole takes office.
And, if we thought it would be bad, we had no idea how bad he'd make it. So, you see, I just couldn't get excited or involved in this election. I couldn't find the hope within me to see that saner minds would prevail. I promise you this...I will spend the next four years fighting for something better, fighting for what's right, fighting for a new beginning. To quote Edward Abbey, "I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Going through this election and reading everyone's blog posts is really making me feel my age. Lots of people voting for the first time in a presidential race...poor hopeful souls. Sad to believe it's my 3rd presidential race to vote. And, while I am as anti-Bush as they come, I can't say I'm shocked. Very sad though--I allowed myself a glimmer of hope when I saw the high election turnout. One credo I know to be true is to never underestimate the stupidity of the American public. For the most part, we are not a country of free thinkers. We think and vote the way we were raised and the way our communities want us to. I forget the statistic, but one's political leanings are largely determined by the political leanings of one's parents. It's a vicious cycle that needs to be stopped in order to affect real change in this country.
I spent most of election day in this weird, sad reminiscent state. I couldn't help thinking about election night four years ago...the night I began to lose my idealism. Don't get me wrong...I still believe in change and that we can make this country a better place, but I am so much more cynical and cautious. Four years ago I had taken a leave of absence from my job and moved to Nashville for 2 months to work on the Gore campaign. It was exciting and empowering...heady stuff. I remember spending most of the day calling radio stations and trying to get them to talk about the election abuses going on...people being turned away from the polls. I remember watching the results come in on election night and screaming with joy and whooping it up as we began to hear we had won key swing states like Michigan and Pennsylvania. There was joy and bonding in knowing we had all worked 15-hour days for weeks to make this happen. We hadn't slept in the past 2 days at all and were wired on caffeine. We had our passes to the victory party, and I had friends who had flown into Nashville to join me in the celebration. We thought we had won. Next thing I know something has happened...Florida is not ours...they're calling the election differently. Gore is about to concede. Everyone is either in a state of shock or in tears. This one woman (Candy), who has been heading up radio ops at the DNC forever, was sobbing. Wait...we're not conceding because something fishy is going on. A light of hope=more hugging. Looks like we're not going to the party but hanging by the TV at headquarters. We're there for hours. There is no resolution. We all role back to the apartment around 4 am. My poor friends have finally made it back there, too, after not having seen me all day. We all crash. The next day headquarters is like a ghost town. We're scheduled to leave in a couple of days, and we don't know what to do. I feel like a zombie...this feeling does not go away over the next couple of weeks. Lots of counting...lots of bickering...a court fight...asshole takes office.
And, if we thought it would be bad, we had no idea how bad he'd make it. So, you see, I just couldn't get excited or involved in this election. I couldn't find the hope within me to see that saner minds would prevail. I promise you this...I will spend the next four years fighting for something better, fighting for what's right, fighting for a new beginning. To quote Edward Abbey, "I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Monday, November 01, 2004
Weekend Update
At the moment I feel pretty crappy because I'm caught the cold/flu thing that has been going around and am not happy about that. I'm noshing on breakfast right now, but I might as well be having gruel b/c it hurts to chew and everything tastes the same.
In Halloween news, the wings fell through (I, evidently, am a sucky wing maker), but I did color the hair blue. I ended up going as a Jesus Freak! (as in the christian band DC Talk's Jesus Freak). The inspiration came during church as I was searching for a way to legitimize having blue hair. I ended up tagging (for all of you down with the graffiti lingo out there) one of my skirts with things like 'Jesus rocks!' and 'God's girl'. While the hair was way to helmet-headish, I was pleased with the overall costume. If I can remember to bring my usb cable, I'll post pictures of everyone tomorrow.
In other weekend news, as Vivi says in Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood, I completely 'dropped my basket' on Saturday. I just broke down at work and couldn't stop crying for a good 45 minutes. I can't even point to a specific incident. I'm guessing it was a combination of things. I've been working a LOT, and I'm sure there are repercussions from that. Plus, I get so angry at BN lazy people (customers and employees), and I hate being angry, so I needed relief from my anger. I've also been worrying about my family...and everything I should be doing and don't have time to do and don't know HOW I'm ever going to get it all done...all of this has just been building up, so I probably just needed to release some of that pressure. I feel better...still stressed but better.
In Halloween news, the wings fell through (I, evidently, am a sucky wing maker), but I did color the hair blue. I ended up going as a Jesus Freak! (as in the christian band DC Talk's Jesus Freak). The inspiration came during church as I was searching for a way to legitimize having blue hair. I ended up tagging (for all of you down with the graffiti lingo out there) one of my skirts with things like 'Jesus rocks!' and 'God's girl'. While the hair was way to helmet-headish, I was pleased with the overall costume. If I can remember to bring my usb cable, I'll post pictures of everyone tomorrow.
In other weekend news, as Vivi says in Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood, I completely 'dropped my basket' on Saturday. I just broke down at work and couldn't stop crying for a good 45 minutes. I can't even point to a specific incident. I'm guessing it was a combination of things. I've been working a LOT, and I'm sure there are repercussions from that. Plus, I get so angry at BN lazy people (customers and employees), and I hate being angry, so I needed relief from my anger. I've also been worrying about my family...and everything I should be doing and don't have time to do and don't know HOW I'm ever going to get it all done...all of this has just been building up, so I probably just needed to release some of that pressure. I feel better...still stressed but better.
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