crash

When my mind is all muddled up with thoughts and confusion, there is nothing more comforting than having words whispered into my heart that remind me of what I know. What is true. What I love. I need that right now.

Everyday that passes gets me closer to one but takes me farther from another. I'm so tired of waiting for something, but I'll probably always be waiting.

Someone once told me my soul is a jukebox and my heart is the music. I still hold that close to my heart as one of the most wonderful things someone has ever said about me. It's an incredible feeling hearing someone describe you perfectly.

I haven't felt content in over seven months.
I don't even think I remember what it feels like to be content.

Sinking

There are times in life when you feel like you have a problem that you can trust no one with. You fear the judgement, you fear how someone might think differently of you, you fear that you could even lose friends. Most of these fears feed on your silence. A struggle that is common or even totally normal, will begin to seem much worse than it is. Shame will grow in this silence too. Shame tries to take your light, but you know your light is your gift and you need it to keep going. So you start fighting for your light, but shining becomes exhausting because you are in this constant battle. So when you have the strength you find yourself sending out pleadings to God. Pathetic little whispers for help, for guidance, for anything really. Just something to give you a break. Then a person starts coming to mind, every time you are struggling. And so you start to think maybe you should tell them, for whatever reason, maybe they would understand. Then one night after an exceptionally long battle within yourself, fighting to keep shining, you just go for it. Send out a quick S.O.S, just getting straight to the point. You take the leap and brace for the landing, hoping it's a soft one. Then as you wait for the response you find that you aren't sinking anymore, that the weight pulling you down has lessened just by putting it out there, just by saying I'm having a hard time and I need someone there has been a relief. So you are there still under everything that has been drowning you, but no longer sinking and there is a strange sense of peace there. Then the response comes and it is filled with grace and love and even a complete understanding. True understanding because the one you reached out to has been where you are. They truly know. So the weights just keep falling off, and you start swimming up, because there is encouragement in having a someone on your side, telling you that you can do this. Finally you break the surface and oh the relief of that first gasp of air that comes from having it all out there. All exposed. So now you are treading water which is still hard work and it will exhaust you too, but your head is above it all and you can breathe again. But even better still, you can speak again. And so begins the journey back to land, where that beautiful friend is waiting with open arms.

beautiful mess

Happiness comes too easily for me.
By this I don't mean that I never have lows, or that I'm never in a funk that I just can't seem to shake. Oh trust me I have shit days, and shit moods, and shit feelings too. What I mean is that it's not very hard for me to find happiness around me. I can find pleasure in simple things, I'm pretty low maintenance when it comes to being entertained. Give me someone to talk to, or even not talk just to sit with, that I enjoy and I am quite content. Spontaneous adventures thrill me, and I seem to have a knack for making simple things like a trip to the store an adventure. I'm not fickle when it comes to things that can make me happy. I truly take joy in tiny little gifts that only people looking for them will receive. Even then most people probably wouldn't even understand why something like gusts of breath-taking wind would make my heart race. But I love it.
The point of all this rambling? Mostly just to say that while it can be a nice character trait to possess, it can also be exhausting. You see I'm a "what-if'er" and I have a big imagination. So I get caught up quite easily in imaginings of possibilities of what if's and wondering "would I have been happy?". Problem is my reaction usually to these wanderings of the mind are "I probably could have". I realize that happiness isn't hard for me. Which leads to "Should I have done this or that? I could have been happy either way so how do I know it was the right choice?".
For this reason lately I find myself wishing I was harder to please. Then maybe it would be easier to dismiss possibilities or chances missed because I would be easier able to say "Oh no way, I would have been so unhappy". Even so as I type that out it sounds ridiculous.

It's really just a mess, a mess of too many beautiful possibilities.

My type of reckless...

I have a rebellious streak.
I realize people say this a lot. The same people who say this a lot also like to say "I know people say this a lot but I actually really do". So who am I? Really I could just be one of them. I know several people, including my Mother and the man I married who would tell you that I most definitely have one. After all I get it from my mother. But neither of them are here to confirm it. Honestly I don't really care if whoever reads this takes it seriously. I know I have a "problem". My rebellion though, it's usually just sort of weird. It's not the stereo-typical movie type rebellion. It's my own quirky form. I will oppose something just because people want me to agree for instance. Just because I find pleasure in even the smallest ways of going against the flow. There are a bunch of different ways I could explain it but it really doesn't matter and would probably just sound so bizarre. But the thing that I'm getting to, is it gets ridiculous. When I get restless, I get the desire to rebel. And let me tell you I am restless today. I'm annoying myself for goodness sake. So my desire to rebel is pretty strong. And the first and easiest thing I can think of is to dye my hair. There is a problem though...I'm sort of terrified to use a box dye on my hair. Salon you suggest? Well that would take more time than I'm patient enough to deal with right now. Oh and then there is the fact that I live in Japan now. JAPAN. Where people have straight smooth hair. Not super thick, crazy curly, rebellious hair. They won't know how to cut this, and my color. Oh lord I want to stay red. But with a language barrier, highly intimidating. Plus I've been researching, reading reviews, for the past several days. And it just isn't promising. Plus it's SO expensive. So I'm HIGHLY tempted to just run over to the store on my bike, pick a cute cheap box of color and go for it. I could do it tonight and potentially satisfy my desires to do something ANYTHING different. Or it could be a tragedy. I could be ruined.
Or I could just go dark....very dark.....

New Beginning

A few friends in the past month have asked and/or told me to start blogging again.
To be totally honest, now that things have finally started to settle down, I had been thinking about it already. But I guess the fact that people I know want me to do it was what gave me the final push to just do it.
So here it is, no explanations of where I've been, no attempts at writing a huge post to catch up on everything. Just a start over. I'll write from where I am right now, no trying to go over the gap of time where I wasn't writing. Because frankly, I would give up. So if you are willing to join me, I am willing to share. It's pretty exciting times around here lately. I moved to Japan! So there are lots of adventures to be had.

More to come! I'm off to get inspired.

We are who we were when...

Dear Friend,

This is what is has come to. I can't get a hold of you through text or phone call. You don't have a myspace or facebook (you refuse to "conform"). I don't have your address, and I can't find your email in my email account. So I am coming here, to the blogosphere. Because it's time, it's time for me to quit hoping.

You have been a wonderful friend. From the night that we met, almost six years ago now, we have been a great match. The first thing you ever said to me was "Nice shirt". It was my Emery t-shirt, you loved them too. I was in Wal-Mart with my youth group shopping for a fundraiser we were doing, and little did I know as we crossed paths on the fishing pole isle, you were a part of the youth group we were teaming up with. I had such a good time getting to know you and your friends. The second day of our fundraiser you approached me as I was putting my shoes on (my youth group had camped out in the auditorium of our church) and I realized we were wearing the same ones. "Nice shoes", I said. You laughed.
In the years to come we would be there for each other through so much, and our friendship lasted.

We lived in different cities, and went to different churches. You were in public high school while I was home-schooled and traveling the world, but it worked out anyway. There were times when we would go for a month or two without talking, but never more and never intentionally. Life just got hectic sometimes, but we still knew that the other was always there whenever we needed. I always knew that you cared. But now I doubt.

I've lost confidence in your friendship. I doubt that I still matter, or that you want me in your life. While it is hard to feel this way, it is harder not knowing for sure what is going on. We have never had a fight, heck we have never even had a disagreement. The last time I saw you was a visit home last summer, a YEAR ago, and I've talked to you once since then. Our time together last July was wonderful. We had a blast catching up, discussing music and God, eating Mexican food. It was perfect. Then you disappeared. No more responses to my text messages, never returning my phone calls. Even when I had amazing news to share, when I wanted to call and celebrate something, you never called back.

My heart broke a little every time there was silence, but I promised you once I would never give up on you. You thanked me more than once for that promise, telling me that's what you needed. You needed me to not give up on you......








So that's it, I don't know how to finish this letter. That's how hard this is. This blog post has been in my drafts for weeks. I keep coming back to it, attempting to add more, but not much else comes. What else can I say? I've put myself out there so many times already. I am not posting this with hopes my dear friend will see it, I know that they won't. I am posting it for me, in hopes that I can gain even just a bit of closure for myself. I really want to give up, but I can't. So I'm saying I am letting go. What happens or doesn't happen is not something I am going to try and play a role in anymore. No more effort. It just hurts too much. But if this beloved friend comes back to me, I will be here.

my little piece of heaven

It's been months since I have wrote anything. I find that quite unfortunate. My life has been full and busy though, so I will not apologize.

So for now I will just attempt to begin writing again with a dream of mine, it's a big one. It's probably unrealistic for my life. But I've had this dream for a long long time, and I feel like I just want to get it out there somehow. So I'm just going to let it flow, type it as it comes. So bear with me if you like. Or wait until the next post.



A house, large, but humble. It's yellow with white shutters and a deep red colored door. A wrap-around porch with chairs and swings covered in pillows and blankets for when there is a chill in the air. Big open windows with light,polka dot curtains flapping in the breeze. Inside the ceilings are vaulted making it open and spacious. It is welcoming. There is a fire place with a mantle covered in art, my photos, little one's drawings, trinkets and memories. The furniture is comfortable but practical. Lots of pillows on the couches too. Colorful rugs cover the wood floors. With one special rug by the screen door where the big dark lab lays to watch his world and guard his people. The kitchen is bright and cheery. Vibrant colors with a retro feel. Black and white checkered floor, lots of spacious cabinets and counterspace. Plenty of room for cooking parties. The dining room beckons you to come and feast with a table big enough for not just family but any spontaneous friends who may show up. There is always room here. This house is a place people know they can always come to.
There is photography everywhere, my photography. High quality prints framed beautifully. There is a room for each child, and a beautiful guestroom that makes people feel at home. The master bedroom is a sanctuary. The bed huge and lush. The bathroom has a claw-foot tub for long leisurely soaks. It's cozy here.

This house, that is filled with laughter and joy, where the doors
are always open, is surrounded by beautiful green land. If you scream at the top of your lungs the neighbors still can't hear you. There is a huge oak tree behind the house in the middle of a meadow of wildflowers and tall grass. The meadow is often filled with games of tag and hide and seek. It has the best light as the sun gets low at the end of the day. Many photos are taken here. The oak tree contains a treehouse, a special place for the kiddos. It was built by strong hands and a big heart. There is a little creek a mile or so away. Sometimes we walk there sometimes we ride horses, to have picnics by the water or to cool off during the hot summer days. It's beautiful.

This house we have will be one that the kids long for while they are away at college. It will be the home they bring their future spouses to, to meet the family. It will be the summer get-a-way for our grandbabies. This will be home.

My ranch, my dream, my little piece of heaven.

Wishful Thinking...

Sometimes I wish I had followed my childhood dreams...

then I realize I did to some extent.


Sometimes I wish I had clear skin (okay all the time)...

then I realize my face could be constantly and completely covered in zits, and it's not. so i am thankful.


Sometimes I wish I lived in a foreign country...

then i realize maybe someday I will, and I hold onto hope.


Sometimes I wish I had more confidence in my art...

then i realize i have more than i used to.


Sometimes I wish I was a better wife...

then i realize i am getting better at it everyday, it's a learning process.


Sometimes I wish I knew John Mayer...

then i realize that probably wouldn't be healthy for my marriage, and my marriage isn't worth it. but still i would be his muse for his music, and he for my photography. he would adore my red hair and ever changing eye color, he would write songs about them. i would remind him of what is real, and what is important in the world, that it's not all about fame and money, that he can be loved for who he is inside, i would understand the real him and and....whoa whoa whoa....see what i mean? TOTALLY unhealthy.


Sometimes I wish forgiveness was easy...

then i realize it probably wouldn't mean as much.


Sometimes I wish we lived back home in San Diego...

then i realize it's more exciting living somewhere new, and I like the home we have created here.


Sometimes I wish I could get a tan...

then i realize that wouldn't be very retro, and I like all things vintage. I'll keep my peaches and cream complexion, the rest of you people can enjoy premature wrinkles.


Sometimes I wish people would just call/text/stay connected/let me know they are alive...

then i realize that the best of the best still keep in touch, and i know i am loved.


Sometimes I wish that I had a baby...

then i realize we want to do so many things still that a baby would prevent us from doing, and that I would lose my figure, and my who-ha will never be the same after, and my boobs will be sucked dry.....babies will come soon enough.


Sometimes I wish we had a house...

then i realize we wouldn't have free cable anymore, or people to fix things, and we would have to pay for electric, AND water, AND garbage, and lots and lots more things. i am content.


Sometimes I wish I had the ability to go over to my parents house and visit on a regular basis and just be there to hang out, i wish i could be at taco night, and go to my brother's baseball games, i wish i could hug my dog and take him on a walk...

then i realize...i will always wish for that.

Make new friends, but keep the old?

Recently I have really been feeling the ache from loss of contact with a few different people in my life. It has been an adjustment, one that has been painful to make, to have people who were once so constant in my life become so absent. I know that things like this in life happen, that throughout life as we grow and change so do our friends and sometimes people move on. But there are some people I just never thought that would happen with. People who I still don't quite understand why it happened with. It makes me sad, it breaks my heart.

I have been told by different friends several different times, "It's their loss if they don't want to keep in touch with you" or "You still have so many people in your life." While these things are said out of love, it doesn't fill the empty spot that my missing friend left behind. My husband often remarks at my ability to easily "make friends". While it is natural for me to meet new people and not struggle with making conversation or getting to know them, it takes me a long time to actually build a relationship with someone. When I was young I had many experiences of "friends" turning against me, ignoring me, lashing out at me because of jealousy or insecurity. While I am able to look back now and understand what was causing that girl to so suddenly turn, I was baffled and confused at the time. It is because of these experiences that I am so careful and guarded with my hopes for friendships until someone is in my life for quite a while. Until the friendship is proven to be trustworthy, I never completely let someone into my heart. So when one of these friendships that I had so carefully put more and more of myself into just goes away, I just want to cry. Maybe this sounds childish to some, maybe it sounds naive, but really it's just how I feel. Believe me, people have come and gone from my life before. While it was never something I wanted, it wasn't always hurtful. These friends I am referring to are people who I pictured always being in my life.

I put friends into two groups. There are "seasonal" friends, the ones who may only be around for a little while but you learn from them and enjoy them while they are in your life, and then slowly they become less and less present. Then there are the "all-weather" friends. The ones who were built to last through all the seasons of life, from the harsh cold winters of life to the sunny and breezy springs. It's the loss of these "all-weather" friends that hurts me so.

I have so many questions. Mostly just, Why? Yes I got married, but I'm still the same me. Becoming a wife doesn't completely change my identity, it just adds something more to who I am. Yes I moved away, but I am closer to many people now than I was before I moved. So I am good at long distance, I know I am. My husband and I lasted through 9 months of long distance before we were married. I'm a great communicator. But I can only prove it if you respond to my texts and return my calls. I would rather have my questions of "Why?" answered with "I just don't care anymore", than have no answers at all. At least then I would get some closer...
The truth is, I'm nervous. I'm nervous about which all-weather friends I could lose the next time a big change happens in my life. We will be moving again next February, hopefully closer to our hometown but who knows? The Navy could send us anywhere. Will that just be too much for another dear friend? What about when I have a baby? Oh lordy, I know things really change when people become parents, but still! I want my wonderful friends in the lives of my babies. I want my kids to have many adopted "aunties" and "uncles". My best friends have made such a wonderful impact on my life and have supported me through so much, I want these incredible people to be apart of my family too.

All I know is that as long as you let me be apart of your life my dearest friends, I will be. I am doing my best from way over here, I love you all so much.

Another Installment of here in Florida...

Yes yes yes, it's been a month since my last post. I am slightly annoyed with myself for the neglect, but not too much. I figure no one has noticed much anyway.
This is *crosses fingers* hopefully the first of a few posts this week, I have several things rolling around in my head. I should definitely put them down.

So here we go with another post of Florida quirks.

• Here in Florida...almost all the traffic lights hang over the intersection on cables. I almost don't notice it at all anymore, but for the first several months of living here it had an unnerving affect to see them sway in the wind over my car. I guess they figure when a hurricane comes it would be less damaging for just the lights to fall instead of lights and big steel poles.

• Here in Florida...you may be driving and OH NO! EEK! Is that..um..roadkill...oh nope it's just a big wad of Spanish moss.

• Speaking of roadkill...Here in Florida there are armadillos! I've seen three. Dead. On the side of the road.

• Here in Florida...there are palm tree dwelling squirrels. It is just bizarre. First of all the amount of squirrels just roaming around the city is strange and disturbing to me. Then throw seeing them hanging out in PALM TREES. It's just not natural. Squirrels belong in parks, climbing pine trees or oak trees, ya know? Not freaking tropical trees.
  

• Here in Florida...I have seen "I <3 Manatees" bumper stickers.Really now people? Manatees? They do nothing but float and eat, they are too dumb to even stay clear of boat propellers.>

• Here in Florida...Carl's Jr. is called Hardee's, Rally's is called Checker's, and Souplantation is called Sweet Tomatoes.

• Here in Florida...people think there is "real" Mexican food. I'm really sorry but beef Enchiladas aren't supposed to have GROUND BEEF in them, salsa is NOT tomato sauce with a few seasonings, and and annnnnd, you just have crap for Mexican food. for real. How can you be "authentic" but look at me like I'm crazy when I inquire about flautas? Or even something more basic, like rolled tacos?! C'mon people!

• and finally, Here in Florida...there are amazing breath taking sunsets.

One of Those Days...

Today was Friday. The day where people are supposed to wake up a little more peppy, have a little bit more positivity, have a little more motivation, because well it's Friday. And after the day is over, the weekend!

Today I could care less that it's Friday.

I came home from work, and I was in my pajamas and in bed before it was even seven. On a Friday! Because it was one of those days. I don't intend on going into every detail because I would probably sound like a whiny pathetic brat. But let me just tell you the weather was a true expression of my heart all day, not one spot of sunlight ever broke through the constant down pour. (I'm smirking at myself now when I read that back, it's quite good I think, but SO true) Anyway it is now 9:30pm on Friday night and since I have been home I have only accomplished that of an old hermit woman with five cats.
After getting into my pajamas and laying under my covers for a bit I decided that I wasn't going to be able to get the raging headache to go away on it's own so I took some medicine. Taking the medicine I hoped also would help prevent my horrendous cramps from returning. Let me just clarify here, when I say horrendous I'm not exaggeration. My cramps are bad, as in sometimes I am out for the day bad, as in the ONLY thing that gives me even the slightest relief is submerging my body into a tub full of the hottest water my skin can handle after taking the prescription strength ibuprofen the doctor gave me....bad. And that's only a glimpse of what I go through every month, catch my drift?

But I digress...



After taking the medicine my husband attempted to comfort and cuddle me for a bit but all I cared about was that he was telling me in the process he was going to hang out with a friend! He was telling me he was leaving me! Alone! In agony after a wretched day! On FRIDAY!
Let's just keep it short and say I was probably over reacting and the conversation probably didn't go well.
After he left to enjoy some much deserved guy time, I proceeded to have a good cry. My mother called me in the middle of this, I should not have answered. Boy did she get an earful and for that I am still embarrassed. My mother, being as patient as one could have probably been with me at that moment gave me some advice. Emotional and physical advice. She has witnessed every visit Aunt Flo gave me from the time I was eleven until I moved away last year so she knows exactly what I go through, and knows it's no freakin' joke. My mom told me to take a hot shower, let it run over my face and just try and relax. It was nice to have my mom take care of me again, even if it was just instruction on something I was already planning on doing. I finished my cry in the shower, I think after the day I had that's what I really needed. To get it all out of my system.
After drying off and getting into some fresh p.j's I set up my new lovely laptop next to my bed, made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and popped in my netflix. Julie & Julia.

What a delightful movie! Half of it about a blogger at that! I love that it was true stories all around. It helped my mood a bit. But now it's over and I'm still her alone in my 'jammies on a Friday night. The neighbors have a freaking baby and they are partying it up more than me! Too much bass people seriously, consider your ear drums, and mine for that matter.

So here I am, writing this blog post that has absolutely no point really, outside of entertaining me, and it's filled with ridiculous paragraphs...interesting. I'm considering popping in Sixteen Candles. Am I in the mood for teen angst via Molly Wringwald? We shall see. Maybe I will browse the instant watch section of my netflix. Whatever it is I decide, I hope your Friday night is no worse than mine whoever you are. Hopefully even better.

A table, a tattoo, and some thoughts.

I walk into the conference room to clean the glass topped table that had just been used. Finger prints and oil smudges from skin are all over it. I come with Windex and paper towels to make it spotless once more. My mind is else wear.

In my head I continue the stream of self-loathing thoughts that have been filling it all day.
"Gosh I love the new blemishes on my face, so disgusting", as I lean over the table to wipe it down I feel my stomach roll, "I'm such a cow", as I am still leaning over the table I see my face reflected in the glass, "Oh awesome, my hair is disgusting and frizzy today". I straighten back up to spray a different area of the table, I roll up the sleeves to my sweater. As I do this I glance at my right arm, my fresh tattoo completely exposed reads "Hallelujah". I hear in my head the meaning "To Praise God," and then "are you praising God right now?" Whoa, that's a hit to the heart. Am I? Are these cruel hurtful thoughts I have about myself, a creation of God himself, thoughts of praise? Surely not. Definitely not. I am ashamed. I am apologetic.

A memory of earlier today comes flooding back.
I was sitting at my desk and a lady in my office who I have taken pictures for was telling one of her employees about me. This employee needs her photo taken and so the lady says, "Courtney can take a few new ones for you, she takes pretty good pictures". Ouch.
She didn't say my pictures were bad or awful, but it was the sort of statement that makes an artist feel only average. She probably didn't mean it in a way to be rude or hurtful, in fact I know this woman to be someone who is very no nonsense and very straight forward. It's just who she is. But to her what are just pictures of her employees, are to me, my hard work and more importantly my passion.

How must my Father feel then, when I His creation, that He formed and designed and labored over, think and say mean degrading things about myself? Probably not so good. The truth is I am insulting His hard work, which is definitely NOT praising my King. If for no other reason, I am lovely because He created me. His hard work and love is why I exsist.

As these things sink from my mind down to my heart I finish cleaning the table. I turn out the light and go to put the cleaning supplies away in the cabinet of the bathroom. While I am there I look in the mirror I think "I feel better". Nothing hateful or abusive. My thoughts become filled with why I wanted my tattoo as I head back to my desk.
I wanted Hallelujah on my arm for many reasons. I think it's a beautiful word, it just sounds musical. It is used in some of my favorite songs. But the meaning itself is even more beautiful. "To Praise God" Just by proclaiming that, you can praise God. I love that. And so I wanted it to be on my arm as a symbol and a reminder that my desire is for my life "to praise God".
I blot my nose with my compact puff, just to get some of the shine to go away, while I mull over the lesson I had just begun learning.

A woman who I don't know, who works with a company in my office is leaving as I do this.

"Oh stop that," she says, "you don't need that at all, you're beautiful"

As I thank her for the compliment I almost cry.

Thanks for that Jesus.

Monday Monday

It's Monday. The weekend came and went in the blink of an eye. It's Monday.
I'm at work so this feels naughty. But I really have nothing else to do, except sit at my desk and be available. Be available and ready for whoever may come through the door or whoever may call on the phone. But until then I must blog, or I will fall asleep.


Today I'm going to tell you some things I've observed while living in Florida.
Being a California girl through and through, living here in Florida this past year has been quite an adventure.

• Here in Florida it is completely flat. No mountains, not even really big hills. I know that most people are aware of the fact that it's flat here, but you don't realize just how weird it is until you are living here. Especially coming from a mountainous place like California.

• Here in Florida it is not the law for motorcyclists to wear helmets. I regularly see guys cruisin' down the highways on their bikes, hair flowing free in the wind, boy is it freaky! I don't understand why it isn't a law in every state for people riding motorcycles to wear helmets. But what I don't understand even more, is why people don't WANT to wear one. I mean seriously?! Is it worth the risk??

• Here in Florida you can ride around in the bed of a pick-up truck. Up until this past weekend I had only ever seen people in the backs of trucks on regular roads. This weekend however, I saw people riding in a truck bed on the highway. Ridiculous I say.

• Here in Florida if it is below 70 degrees the natives freak out. So this winter has been a bit chaotic being that they have been having record lows with temperatures getting down to the mid to low thirties at some points. I think it is the only place where a girl from San Diego can look tough when it comes to winter weather.

• Here in Florida I have only seen two doves the whole year and two months I've lived here.

• Here in Florida, Tampa is the lightning capital of the US. The summer of 2009 was quite an experience for me. On the news they keep track of how many strikes of lightning happen within periods of time during particularly big storms. I remember one day there was over 1,200 lightning strikes in our county within an hour. Crazy.

• Here in Florida the students have to take the FCATS several different times throughout their school careers. It's three days of testing and they don't get the results until December. And if they don't pass the test, THEY FAIL their grade! How absurd is that? What about the kids who just don't test well but have amazing grades? A lady who works in my office was telling me that last year a few high school students who had great grade point averages and who had scholarships waiting for them failed the FCATS and got held back! All I have to say is I'm glad my kids won't be going to school in Florida. The school system here I've heard on numerous occasions is just plain ole' shitty.

• Here in Florida there is a place called Ocala. It is the horse capital of the US. Apparently they breed 'em good.

The truth is there are many more observations and facts I've gathered since living here but I can't recall them all at once. So as they come into my mind I intend to put them on this blog. It is an interesting place to say the least. And it has been a fun adventure so far, I am intrigued to see what this coming year will show me.

blankness

Today I want to write.
I don't know where to start. I have ideas for posts, I have aspirations for my blog. I want to grow and become a better blogger. I love to write. Writing was actually my first love. Before dancing, before photography, before anything else, as a little girl I was a writer. I have a box full of poetry from my adolescent days up to my teenage years. I have pages and pages of fictional stories that I wrote just for fun, not because I had an assignment. For quite a long time I remember wanting to be an author. I loved writing, I love writing.
But I have a special relationship with writing. When I neglect writing, when I put writing off to do other things first, it doesn't come back to me very willingly. It seems to have become a bit bitter that I didn't pay attention to it sooner, writing wants me to work for it. But if I give writing my time and attention on a regular basis it comes naturally and easily, we are like old friends who have easy conversation full of meaning. Even now as I am typing this, I am deleting and re-writing sentences over and over and over.

I need to take the time to write more, because this is just too challenging. I'm annoyed.

Because It's Been An Absurdly long time...

It is MARCH of 2010.

I have not posted in so long because I got a full time job in November. And then the holidays came and we were in San Diego with family for that.
Also having a full time job meant that I got home around or after my husband and because we only had the one computer I didn't seem to have time because he wanted to use the computer too.
Then I forgot my PASSWORD for my blogger account.

Well now, not only do I know my password, but I have my own LAPTOP. Also I am quite settled in at my new job and might even be able to post from there every now and then.
I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because these things happen and plus I doubt anyone even noticed I was being so neglectful of my blog.
But I will say, I am better equipped and I am going to try this again.

STAY TUNED

1000 Gifts

• Scented Candles

• Cranberry Juice

• The pure, honest laughter of a baby.

• A best friend who always listens and enjoys my long detailed style of storytelling.

• The excitement of knowing I'm going to be receiving something in the mail.

• A sincere compliment from my husband.

• Getting the job I really wanted.

• Witnessing the amazing wonder of my friend's 11 month old developing his walking skills.

• A Dad who has knowledge about so many things and he is always a phone call away willing to share it.

• The kisses I get every morning while I'm still sleeping before Ty leaves for work.

• A goofy Sunday night full of bad jokes, bad smells, and mischievous laughter.

• Cloudy days

Today My "Baby" Brother is 16? How did that happen?

My brother has always been fast, unstoppable when he has his mind set on something. When my mom was in labor he started coming out without her pushing. The doctor wasn't even in the room yet, so the nurse kept asking her to not push. To which my mom's reply was "I'M NOT PUSHING". The story is that as soon as the doctor walked in and got suited up, he sat down and BAM! David was out. The doctor called him rocket baby after that.

I was five years old when my brother was born. I don't remember much of anything about the first time I met him, or the first few weeks of him being at home. I was only five.
I am told I was loving, yet jealous at times of my new brother receiving all my mother's attention. At the time I didn't understand that my mom and dad were actually worried about him. He wasn't getting enough food due to having a really hard time nursing. My mom didn't know why . He started going to the doctor weekly to get weighed and he was losing too much weight. He became quite skinny. They soon figured out that he was tongue tied. Basically the piece of skin under his tongue came all the way out to the tip of his tongue. Making it impossible for him to latch on. So he went to bottles and he got much better. He eventually had a procedure to cut the skin so he would be able to talk normal. I do remember being upset about my brother having surgery, I didn't want anyone hurting my brother.

I started calling him Guy Smiley. He was always happy and smiling, reminding me of a character on Sesame Street. A puppet talk show host of sorts, named Guy Smiley. His mouth was permanently fixed into a huge toothy grin. My brother didn't have teeth yet, but that's who he reminded me of. My memories of him as a baby start once he was several months old. I LOVED to read as a little girl,(still do), and he loved it when I read to him. My mom would lay him down on my bed with me before bedtime and so I could read to him.
There was a book of nursery rhymes that seemed to be his favorite. I would read them to him with different voices for each rhyme and he would laugh hysterically.
As my brother got older and started walking I became extremely protective of him. I guarded him. I loved him more than anything I had ever loved in my 6 years of life.

The older he got the more fun we had. He quickly learned how to make me laugh, as well as make me scream. But he was really quite a wonderful little brother. We had our spats and squabbles, but people said quite often how obvious it was that we were very close to each other. We had so much fun goofing off and playing pretend. We shared a room for 10 years, so the memories are endless. After being put to bed we were often being shouted at from downstairs to be quiet and go to sleep. Something about being in our beds in the dark encouraged many many conversations. Some ridiculous, bringing fits of laughter and some quite meaningful. He liked to hide under my bed in the mornings. Thinking, I guess, that I wouldn't know he was there even though he did it all the time. I would usually just start talking to him about something and hear "How'd you knoooow?" Silly boy.
As much as he annoyed me as we got older and I wanted him to go away when I had friends over, he was my best friend. He still is. I really, truly, have the coolest brother.

My brother is now becoming a man, and a great one at that. Today he is sixteen. I wish I could be there to celebrate with him. Out of all the things that have been hard about moving away from my hometown and everyone I know, being apart from him has been the hardest. I've missed him the most. I feel like I'm missing so much of his life. But he keeps me involved, because he is awesome. He texts me everyday, and we talk regularly as well. He tells me he misses me often, and that he is excited for me to come home for Christmas time. He is so considerate. He always has been, since he was quite young.

He is very aware of peoples feelings. He also has a great sense of discernment. He has great instincts and he listens to them. He has always been quick to greet adults and shake hands, something most adults tend to be taken aback by because of his young age. He makes friends easily and people become attached to him quickly. He has never abused this gift to manipulate, he treats his friends well. His friend's parents love him. My brother is a gifted athlete, one of those who can do whatever he tries. He runs fast and can climb anything. He loves baseball. His work ethic is strong, my father has taught him to give it all he's got. He is great with animals, getting hired regularly by neighbors for pet-sitting while they are away on trips. He is trustworthy. He is smart. He is kind. He is funny. He has a great sense of who he is already. I can't wait to see what he does and where he goes in life. I know it will be great.

He is my brother, I am proud to say. And I am so glad he was born.



This is from my visit home in July of this year.
He hunched to take this picture with me, he is actually much taller
than me.

1 Year

I woke up before you this morning. This almost never happens, but I'm glad it did.
In the dim light of our bedroom you lay sleeping soundly next to me. Your deep steady breathing the only sound in the room. I looked at you and I took in this moment. There my husband was, with me, in OUR room, in OUR home. It still can bring me to tears to think about how blessed I have been and how our hopes are finally a reality. How I love you. How I love waking up to your kisses and your smell. How I love the way you laugh and tease, how you dance around when a song you love is playing, how you sing to me, how you crinkle your face when I sing to you, and how right now as I write this you are making both of us a delicious breakfast. I didn't even ask. You are a wonderful man, and a wonderful husband. The grace you have for me is hard to understand sometimes, Jesus definitely loves me through you.
There are so many many many things I could keep writing, but I will just finish with this.
This first year of our marriage has been the hardest, craziest, most exciting and wonderful year of my life. There is no one I could imagine beginning this journey with but you. So as I lay for the brief moment awake before you, I took your sleeping body in for my memory. So that when we are apart for months and months at a time in the coming years, when I will have to wake up alone and only speak to you through email, I will recall this morning. The morning of the anniversary of our first year of marriage, and all the mornings before it and all the mornings after. Forever and ever.

these were supposed to be in my 1000 gifts

1000 Gifts 2nd Post

• Beach days that last until sundown on a white sand shore, with blue-green water, and a game of frisbee.

• The sound of my husband's even steady breathing next to me in bed as I fall asleep.

• A friend who truly understands.

• Books that swallow me up and pull me in. Making me feel as though I have become a part of their world.

• The companionship of a loyal dog.

• My mother's prayers.

• An unexpected phone call just to say hi and let me know I am missed.

• Having a husband that loves to make me laugh.
  

• Forgiveness

• Grace

• Hope that knows no boundaries.