when a woman has hair just long enough to put up, thereby exposing her beautiful long neck.
ahhh. so damn enticing.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
wanna play?
ok. i'm gonna start writing a story and then at some point, i will stop and i hope the next visitor/blogger will pick it up and carry story on. either post it in the comments or carry it to your blog. i hope you will join me. i think it will be neat to see where the story goes...and what creative minds we have out there....say as much or as little as you want.
>>They sat at the small table in the crowded restaurant. Even at 9:30pm, the place was still fairly packed, although not too noisy. A near empty second bottle of Girard Petite Syrah stood on the table, next to the nearly fading, white, non-scented candle. She swirled the last bit of wine in her riedel glass. The delicate flame from the candle was illuminating what last little bit of red she had left. She looked across the table and said, "i've got to go to the restroom, i'll be right back."
She walked toward the back of the restuarant, passing the hostess who looked like she had just arrived. Her make-up looked fresh, not one strand of hair was out of place. How can that be, she mused to herself as she walked by. She sighed and made her way into the ladies room. It seemed empty and she was thankful. She went over to the sink with the golden colored faucet. The warm water felt soothing on her hands. She turned off the faucet, grabbed the white cloth from the brown wicker basket and dried her hands.
She looked up and started to slow her drying as she saw herself in the mirror.
(i hope u will pick it up from here....)
>>They sat at the small table in the crowded restaurant. Even at 9:30pm, the place was still fairly packed, although not too noisy. A near empty second bottle of Girard Petite Syrah stood on the table, next to the nearly fading, white, non-scented candle. She swirled the last bit of wine in her riedel glass. The delicate flame from the candle was illuminating what last little bit of red she had left. She looked across the table and said, "i've got to go to the restroom, i'll be right back."
She walked toward the back of the restuarant, passing the hostess who looked like she had just arrived. Her make-up looked fresh, not one strand of hair was out of place. How can that be, she mused to herself as she walked by. She sighed and made her way into the ladies room. It seemed empty and she was thankful. She went over to the sink with the golden colored faucet. The warm water felt soothing on her hands. She turned off the faucet, grabbed the white cloth from the brown wicker basket and dried her hands.
She looked up and started to slow her drying as she saw herself in the mirror.
(i hope u will pick it up from here....)
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
it's the little things that thrill
i absolutely love watching a beautiful woman put make-up on. sexy, sensual, hot.
(i am not even in to make-up. it's the ACT...)
(i am not even in to make-up. it's the ACT...)
mini-mini rant
can i just say that I really don't like doing that 'word verification' thing that some of ya'll have on your site. i always get tit wrong the first time. geez, are my eyes THAT bad.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Information: Part I
As I have mentioned before, I do not know my father. All I know is his first and last name. As is typical in my situation, I vacillate between wanting to try to find him and then not wanting to find him. Of course those usual questions arise such as: what will he look like? what will he be like? what will he do? will he turn away? is he a psycho-killer? is he a junkie? is he rich? will he want money from me?? Would he be someone I would want to spend time with? Does he have other children?
And then, of course, i sometimes think “well, why hasn’t he tried to find me?”
Maybe he has.
Maybe be has been unsuccessful since i do not bear his last name. The way the story was told to me by my grandmother was that he and my mother had a parting of the ways after she caught him in bed with another woman. And in spite, my mother gave me my brothers’ father’s last name. Now, listen. I’m not saying that is actually what happened. This is the story i was told by grandma who had a propensity to tell stories, and which i frequently questioned. However, knowing how much pride my mother had, I would not put it past her to do such a thing. Back then, i never had a choice as to what name i wanted. But, i am actually glad she have me the name i have. it’s much more interesting and always proves difficult for people to pronounce and misspell. And people always think i’m Italian, which i am not. Lots of questions always go through my mind: How am I like him? What physical characteristics do we share? Did I get my althletic ability from him? Would he like me? Would he be proud of me?
Dad. Pop. Daddy. Father. Papa
What would it have been like to grow up with a father? How might my life have been different? Better? Different. I cannot help but wonder how the lack of such a figure in my life has helped shape who i am. I think back to how there was a heavy concentration of men surrounding my early years, and yet not a single one of them was anything close to a father figure. Not a single one of them had qualities i would desire in a father. The men surrounding my life were criminals, drug addicts, thieves, gang members, jobless, and ambition-less. I surely did not look up to the uncle who frequently tried to stick his tongue down my throat or the one who was jobless, still lived with his mother, watched TV all day and sucked down beer after beer all night. I also did not look up to my cousins who were in gangs, hurting people, maybe even killing people, knocking up girls and using drugs. I looked in their eyes, stood in their presence and saw nothing to be proud of, nothing to look up to, nothing to admire, nothing i wanted to be near. Who did i look up to? Who did i admire?
And then, of course, i sometimes think “well, why hasn’t he tried to find me?”
Maybe he has.
Maybe be has been unsuccessful since i do not bear his last name. The way the story was told to me by my grandmother was that he and my mother had a parting of the ways after she caught him in bed with another woman. And in spite, my mother gave me my brothers’ father’s last name. Now, listen. I’m not saying that is actually what happened. This is the story i was told by grandma who had a propensity to tell stories, and which i frequently questioned. However, knowing how much pride my mother had, I would not put it past her to do such a thing. Back then, i never had a choice as to what name i wanted. But, i am actually glad she have me the name i have. it’s much more interesting and always proves difficult for people to pronounce and misspell. And people always think i’m Italian, which i am not. Lots of questions always go through my mind: How am I like him? What physical characteristics do we share? Did I get my althletic ability from him? Would he like me? Would he be proud of me?
Dad. Pop. Daddy. Father. Papa
What would it have been like to grow up with a father? How might my life have been different? Better? Different. I cannot help but wonder how the lack of such a figure in my life has helped shape who i am. I think back to how there was a heavy concentration of men surrounding my early years, and yet not a single one of them was anything close to a father figure. Not a single one of them had qualities i would desire in a father. The men surrounding my life were criminals, drug addicts, thieves, gang members, jobless, and ambition-less. I surely did not look up to the uncle who frequently tried to stick his tongue down my throat or the one who was jobless, still lived with his mother, watched TV all day and sucked down beer after beer all night. I also did not look up to my cousins who were in gangs, hurting people, maybe even killing people, knocking up girls and using drugs. I looked in their eyes, stood in their presence and saw nothing to be proud of, nothing to look up to, nothing to admire, nothing i wanted to be near. Who did i look up to? Who did i admire?
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Reflections
Yesterday, I was caught in a moment that left me feeling a bit teary and I did not know why. Here is what happened. As per usual, I stopped in at Starbucks in the early evening. I was in my own little world, having finished work and in a bit of a daze. It wasn't until the little young girl spoke that I came out of my daze. She says to the barista, "Can I have THAT chocolate chip cookie?" I looked at THAT cookie and saw the size of it. It was huge. I thought of saying to the girl, "wow, that cookie is almost as big as you are." But, I didn't. She was with an older, taller girl (but still young) who looked like she was her sister. Then, little girl asks the barista, "how much are your IZZE drinks?
Barista reply, "I don’t know. I have to scan it" Little girl walks over to the drinks and asks, which one is the cheapest.
Barista reply, "they are all the same." Little girl picks out the one she wanted and barista rung up her items.
As little girl unfolded the waded up dollars in her hand, she heard the total and said, "oh, I don’t have enough. I will have to put the drink back."
In a total spontaneous moment, I said, "oh, I'll get it." The little girl looked at me and was going to hand me the drink as though she thought I was going to buy it for myself. I said, "no, I'll get it for you." It was a little jumbled. She looked confused, the barista looked confused, the other girl looked confused. After payment was made and everything settled, older girl says to me in her wide, brace-laden smile, "that was very nice. Thank you."
Then to her sister (?) "did you say thank you?" Little girl thanks me and they move on. I then ordered a tall half regualr, half decaf coffee and as I do so, I realize I feel such tenderness. My eyes water. The Barista fella just smiles at me.
Why did this moment touch me so? As the evening went on and I went about my business, it came to me when I wasn't even thinking of it…I knew why…
Because as so many things have been on my mind lately, one of those things is family and connection and the absense of blood-related family. I am struck by the not new realization that this is it for me. No kids. Nothing of me will go on. No trait or characteristic solely belonging to me will be passed to anyone else. Of course, I made a decision long ago that I never wanted to bear a child. I have never wanted the experience of being pregnant. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of adopting a child. Well, unless I come into some windfall of money, that will not happen either. Perhaps because of my age, 36, I am realizing some of the lost opportunities. I do not regret my choice to not want to give birth, but this does not mean that I don't feel loss of that opportunity to care for and teach and nuture and love a little human being as they make their way into this world.
I know there are plenty of other ways to be involved in a childs life, but its not the same. And there are other things involved too. I have never known my father and my mother is deceased and I was THEIR only offspring. So, truly, I am it. Something about that stoppage is sad to me.
I envy people who have long lineages. People who truly can talk about their family tree, their history. It's neat and valuable, in my opinion.
With every choice, we are making a decision that will involve loss and gain. Sometimes, I don’t think we realize what we lose, yet it seems we see the gains so soon. In a perfect world, I would have had the money and the stability both inner and outer, to adopt a child when I was a it younger. Of course, there would be no physical charateristics, but I would have had an opportunity to be a part of a life in a very unique way.
This is all sort of coming from who knows where…thanks for listening.
Barista reply, "I don’t know. I have to scan it" Little girl walks over to the drinks and asks, which one is the cheapest.
Barista reply, "they are all the same." Little girl picks out the one she wanted and barista rung up her items.
As little girl unfolded the waded up dollars in her hand, she heard the total and said, "oh, I don’t have enough. I will have to put the drink back."
In a total spontaneous moment, I said, "oh, I'll get it." The little girl looked at me and was going to hand me the drink as though she thought I was going to buy it for myself. I said, "no, I'll get it for you." It was a little jumbled. She looked confused, the barista looked confused, the other girl looked confused. After payment was made and everything settled, older girl says to me in her wide, brace-laden smile, "that was very nice. Thank you."
Then to her sister (?) "did you say thank you?" Little girl thanks me and they move on. I then ordered a tall half regualr, half decaf coffee and as I do so, I realize I feel such tenderness. My eyes water. The Barista fella just smiles at me.
Why did this moment touch me so? As the evening went on and I went about my business, it came to me when I wasn't even thinking of it…I knew why…
Because as so many things have been on my mind lately, one of those things is family and connection and the absense of blood-related family. I am struck by the not new realization that this is it for me. No kids. Nothing of me will go on. No trait or characteristic solely belonging to me will be passed to anyone else. Of course, I made a decision long ago that I never wanted to bear a child. I have never wanted the experience of being pregnant. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of adopting a child. Well, unless I come into some windfall of money, that will not happen either. Perhaps because of my age, 36, I am realizing some of the lost opportunities. I do not regret my choice to not want to give birth, but this does not mean that I don't feel loss of that opportunity to care for and teach and nuture and love a little human being as they make their way into this world.
I know there are plenty of other ways to be involved in a childs life, but its not the same. And there are other things involved too. I have never known my father and my mother is deceased and I was THEIR only offspring. So, truly, I am it. Something about that stoppage is sad to me.
I envy people who have long lineages. People who truly can talk about their family tree, their history. It's neat and valuable, in my opinion.
With every choice, we are making a decision that will involve loss and gain. Sometimes, I don’t think we realize what we lose, yet it seems we see the gains so soon. In a perfect world, I would have had the money and the stability both inner and outer, to adopt a child when I was a it younger. Of course, there would be no physical charateristics, but I would have had an opportunity to be a part of a life in a very unique way.
This is all sort of coming from who knows where…thanks for listening.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Machete me in two, my love
For like the thin blade
I make myself thin and
Stradle the tightrope
Caught between the worlds of
Leaving & Staying
Pressing or Abandoning
Taking Care &
Caring for
Let the tip of the blade
Poke just underneath my chin
As the chill it would surely cause
Is the same as i sit here now
With my vodka glass, worn eyes
And a shakily written letter to you,
My love,
Crease and tear me down the middle
Leave the edges jagged
For surely,
That is how I will be
Jagged, rugged,
Bent, even
From the time of cowardice
That yanked, shook and shaped me
Into a person who could not jump
But only be pushed.
For like the thin blade
I make myself thin and
Stradle the tightrope
Caught between the worlds of
Leaving & Staying
Pressing or Abandoning
Taking Care &
Caring for
Let the tip of the blade
Poke just underneath my chin
As the chill it would surely cause
Is the same as i sit here now
With my vodka glass, worn eyes
And a shakily written letter to you,
My love,
Crease and tear me down the middle
Leave the edges jagged
For surely,
That is how I will be
Jagged, rugged,
Bent, even
From the time of cowardice
That yanked, shook and shaped me
Into a person who could not jump
But only be pushed.
Friday, February 02, 2007
uurrrr
I seldom vent on this blog, but this is a vent today directed at the coffee shop employees, customers in the deli line and in the grocery line.
1)Don’t stand and talk to your co-workers about personal things while customers are waiting. They should be your first priority. It is especially rude if you make eye contact with customer, and CONTINUE to chat away with co-worker!
2)Don't stand there and chit-chat with customers about their hair, their dog, the weather or your boyfriend while other customers are waiting. (it's wonderful that you are being friendly, but while you are being oh so nice to customer A, customer B, C, D, E etc.. Are getting angry
3)Don’t be on the phone while you are trying to order from the DELI
4)Don't get all the way up to the DELI person asking for your order and THEN decide what you want
5)Don't wait until your large grocery bill has been tallied before you decide to THEN open your purse and dig around for your check
1)Don’t stand and talk to your co-workers about personal things while customers are waiting. They should be your first priority. It is especially rude if you make eye contact with customer, and CONTINUE to chat away with co-worker!
2)Don't stand there and chit-chat with customers about their hair, their dog, the weather or your boyfriend while other customers are waiting. (it's wonderful that you are being friendly, but while you are being oh so nice to customer A, customer B, C, D, E etc.. Are getting angry
3)Don’t be on the phone while you are trying to order from the DELI
4)Don't get all the way up to the DELI person asking for your order and THEN decide what you want
5)Don't wait until your large grocery bill has been tallied before you decide to THEN open your purse and dig around for your check
Monday, January 29, 2007
untitled
His gangily wobbly head rested on my shoulder
His eyelids were closed, intermittenly fluttering
Beneath the robe was his body, a body i had laid next to for 34 years
I knew every crevice, every man made and non man made mark
I knew which parts worked well
Which ones didn’t
I knew his body as well as my own
Yet, I am not the owner
I am not the inhabitor
So although I, too, have a long history with this body
I know not what it feels,
i don’t know the violent spasms and convulsions
I don’t know the painful, relentless bouts of vomitting or
The panic driven breakdowns that make him flail about in a daze
Hurting himself
Sometimes,
Hurting me
Touching his forehead with my fingers
i am taken back to a time
when this head was between my legs, silently moving to give me sweet pleasure
To a time when this head poked through my 3rd floor apartment, bringing me chinese food when i couldn’t step away myself
I am lost in the memories when this man fought for me to return to him
That bitter fight on the corner that changed my life
Begging me to stay, to give us another chance
And such is our history,
34 years later,
and
what i know is
this head on my shoulder
The eyelids fluttering
The soft, quiet breath of his mouth
So close to mine lets me know his life
And, on this quiet rainy night
As the teardrops slide down my cheeks,
I am begging him to stay
His eyelids were closed, intermittenly fluttering
Beneath the robe was his body, a body i had laid next to for 34 years
I knew every crevice, every man made and non man made mark
I knew which parts worked well
Which ones didn’t
I knew his body as well as my own
Yet, I am not the owner
I am not the inhabitor
So although I, too, have a long history with this body
I know not what it feels,
i don’t know the violent spasms and convulsions
I don’t know the painful, relentless bouts of vomitting or
The panic driven breakdowns that make him flail about in a daze
Hurting himself
Sometimes,
Hurting me
Touching his forehead with my fingers
i am taken back to a time
when this head was between my legs, silently moving to give me sweet pleasure
To a time when this head poked through my 3rd floor apartment, bringing me chinese food when i couldn’t step away myself
I am lost in the memories when this man fought for me to return to him
That bitter fight on the corner that changed my life
Begging me to stay, to give us another chance
And such is our history,
34 years later,
and
what i know is
this head on my shoulder
The eyelids fluttering
The soft, quiet breath of his mouth
So close to mine lets me know his life
And, on this quiet rainy night
As the teardrops slide down my cheeks,
I am begging him to stay
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Just Something
This blogging thing is interesting, isn’t it. I mean, now, there are a clan of folks who frequent each other's blogs and have been for a while. We begin to have a small window into each others lives. Some share more openly than others and everyone is unique in their own way. We all seem to have these "personalities" via the blogging sites and it certainly makes me curious as to how close to real life these personalities actually are. It's strange…all we have are our posts and comments which, of course, we make and then those are completely open to interpretation by the reader. It's just interesting…I am simply making obvservations about the whole thing. I'm struck by how, like in real physical life, there are blogs I am drawn to and those I am not and I cannot really say why. Just like people…sometimes you meet someone and you connect and sometimes not and you can't really put a finger on a reason why. I think the neat part is that as we have grown to learn more about one another, there is a caring element. When someone is having a shitty day, the comments seem very sincere. And when someone has a happy report, we all cheer. It's neat. It feels real.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
At my desk
As I was at my desk today, I had a 1/2 eaten powerbar sitting on my desk.
This collegue of mine walked past my desk and just picked up my half-eaten still wrapped powerbar and was reading the contents.
It cracks me up. Now that I have gotten to know him, this does not bother me. I can totally see where it would bother most people…his lack of boundaries…but he is such a goof, a 50+ year old cool goof, that I just have to laugh.
This collegue of mine walked past my desk and just picked up my half-eaten still wrapped powerbar and was reading the contents.
It cracks me up. Now that I have gotten to know him, this does not bother me. I can totally see where it would bother most people…his lack of boundaries…but he is such a goof, a 50+ year old cool goof, that I just have to laugh.
Friday, January 19, 2007
questions for the great void
This week, I have had to navigate some murky waters where my ego and pride are concerned. It has not been pretty, easy or fun. It has been humbling, ugly and startling. It has also been beneficial.
All the while, I have been mulling over some questions…
How does one show confidence, but not cockiness?
How does one show ambition but not plow people over?
How does one show assertiveness, but not bitchiness?
How is one serious/focused, but not aloof?
And are these answers different for men and women?
All the while, I have been mulling over some questions…
How does one show confidence, but not cockiness?
How does one show ambition but not plow people over?
How does one show assertiveness, but not bitchiness?
How is one serious/focused, but not aloof?
And are these answers different for men and women?
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
gobble, gobble..
UH-OH
I just figured out how to play this at work. YIKES.
One of my favorite games!!
And you know what? I'll take any of you on!! :)
I just figured out how to play this at work. YIKES.
One of my favorite games!!
And you know what? I'll take any of you on!! :)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Scandalous
An incredibly well acted film. How awesome it was to see these ladies in action. Hope you will make some time for a good flick. Grab some corn and take a seat in your neaby theater.
How refreshing to see some good films of late.. This one and THE QUEEN. Another incredible acting performance by Helen Mirren.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
VENT
I know I have griped about this before, but
IT REALLY FREAKING BOTHERS ME WHEN PEOPLE DON’T FREAKING LISTEN.
AUUUUUGHHHHHHH.
This is truly probably one of the biggest things that annoys the hell out of me.
Sorry, just had to vent.
uuuuughghghghgghhgh
IT REALLY FREAKING BOTHERS ME WHEN PEOPLE DON’T FREAKING LISTEN.
AUUUUUGHHHHHHH.
This is truly probably one of the biggest things that annoys the hell out of me.
Sorry, just had to vent.
uuuuughghghghgghhgh
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Beans
When I was an elementary school kid, I recall a project we had to do. A CREATIVE project, which at the time scared the crap out of me. (today, still makes me very anxious as I have never beem creative in the traditional way) Anyway, I must have been about 7 years old and we were to make something using a piece of cardboard and colored beans. We could make anyhing we wanted. Well, it comes as not surprise to me now, but the thing I created out of my colored beans was simply the word, BEST…big enough to cover the cardboard piece that was approximately 8x10.
I loved it. I wish I still had it, but I have no idea what happened to it…must have gotten lost during one of my 35 moves! HA!
Well, I want to say that while I am sure I cannot specifically tell you why I chose that particular word the, my guess is that I wanted to be the BEST. I wanted to excel. I wanted to stand out. I wanted to shine. And I still do. But here is the thing. I have never wanted to do this with the mindset that I was going to beat everyone else. Wanting to be the best a has never been about being better than anyone else, but being the BEST that I can be…the best AFUNTANILLA. I have a determination that eats away at me…that bothers me and pushes me. Some folks may think I need to relax, but you know what…that is not what my life is about….relaxing. My life is about searching and trying to be better…a better person. A better friend, co-worker, employee, athlete, etc… My life is about searching because I never want to settle. I never want to be complacent or accept something from myself that is less than I am capable of. I think I have a healthy ego, but my desire comes from a humble place. And my hope is that if I can improve upon myself and be the best AFUNTANILLA I can be, then I will have much to offer you. YOU. Whoever YOU are.
Damn, I really wish I had my little piece of art.
I loved it. I wish I still had it, but I have no idea what happened to it…must have gotten lost during one of my 35 moves! HA!
Well, I want to say that while I am sure I cannot specifically tell you why I chose that particular word the, my guess is that I wanted to be the BEST. I wanted to excel. I wanted to stand out. I wanted to shine. And I still do. But here is the thing. I have never wanted to do this with the mindset that I was going to beat everyone else. Wanting to be the best a has never been about being better than anyone else, but being the BEST that I can be…the best AFUNTANILLA. I have a determination that eats away at me…that bothers me and pushes me. Some folks may think I need to relax, but you know what…that is not what my life is about….relaxing. My life is about searching and trying to be better…a better person. A better friend, co-worker, employee, athlete, etc… My life is about searching because I never want to settle. I never want to be complacent or accept something from myself that is less than I am capable of. I think I have a healthy ego, but my desire comes from a humble place. And my hope is that if I can improve upon myself and be the best AFUNTANILLA I can be, then I will have much to offer you. YOU. Whoever YOU are.
Damn, I really wish I had my little piece of art.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
HELP
So, I get to work this morning..and there is a round tin on my desk with a card. I'm thinking to myself, "who left me a gift? That is strange…" I open the card and see who it is from and I say, "oh NO".
Begrudgingly, I open the tin and look inside for what I already know is there….A BIG TIN OF COOKIES.
If you don't know why this is a problem, see my sidebar January resolution. AAAUGGGGHHHH!
I completely forgot that during the holiday I had asked a co-workers mom to make these cookies for me becaause they are some of the best I have ever tasted…an oatmeal with chocolate chips. So freaking yummy. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?
***update** ok. i had 1 because a sweet woman made them especially for me. I am gonna freeze all the rest and save til February. thx for all the input! :)
Begrudgingly, I open the tin and look inside for what I already know is there….A BIG TIN OF COOKIES.
If you don't know why this is a problem, see my sidebar January resolution. AAAUGGGGHHHH!
I completely forgot that during the holiday I had asked a co-workers mom to make these cookies for me becaause they are some of the best I have ever tasted…an oatmeal with chocolate chips. So freaking yummy. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?
***update** ok. i had 1 because a sweet woman made them especially for me. I am gonna freeze all the rest and save til February. thx for all the input! :)
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Rolling Up My Sleeves...
In 2006, I ran 5 road races. 4 5k's and one out of state Half-Marathon. I purchased approximately 5 pairs of running shoes. I almost ran my 5th marathon, but quit mid-training. I traveled to 2 places I'd never been; Charlotte, NC., & Asheville, NC. I saw an NFL game in Charlotte. I lounged, ran and ate in Asheville where I discovered a great restaurant called Limones. While there on a trail run, I also lost my car key, was locked out in the middle of no where and met a guy with a kind soul who helped this stranded one. I flew to San Francisco and Las Vegas to be with old friends. I joined a group for about 3 months and found new friends. I read more books than I ever have in my life and although I don't think my vocabulary has improved, I am better now at crossword puzzles. I gave flowers. I received flowers. I found a great pal at work. I lost a person who was an inspriation to me only after being in my life for 5 months. He was the first person to come along in like forever who had inspired me. He used to work in my office and now is elsewhere. I took risks in love. I took risks at work. I think I have quit being so full of anger and grief for all I have lost. I saw lots of mediocre and crappy movies like The Break-up, The Lake House, & Inside Man. I saw a few good ones like Bobby, United 93, & Little Miss Sunshine. I poured oodles of money into Stabucks and Peets Coffee. I was gone for awhile and then I came back and you know what, It's nice to see me again!!
Oh, AND…I found neat, neat folks via a place called blogger.com :)
As we head into the new year, I hope to create one of more risk, more adventure & more fun.
For 2007, these are my 3 BIG GOALS
Run a 50 mile race
Ride a 100 mile bike race or ride solo
Take a vacation to Seattle, Vancouver or outside North America
For the Month Of January (Every month, I plan to give up something new)
Give up cookies and candy.
I would love to hear yuor stories and plans!! Cheers
Oh, AND…I found neat, neat folks via a place called blogger.com :)
As we head into the new year, I hope to create one of more risk, more adventure & more fun.
For 2007, these are my 3 BIG GOALS
Run a 50 mile race
Ride a 100 mile bike race or ride solo
Take a vacation to Seattle, Vancouver or outside North America
For the Month Of January (Every month, I plan to give up something new)
Give up cookies and candy.
I would love to hear yuor stories and plans!! Cheers
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Go Figure
Ok. I have no problem giving money away to a stranger(see previous post) but i get seriously irritated when my change is "stolen" by the freaking vending machines, post office machines, and more recently, the freaking newspaper machines. Very, very irritating. Kinda a funny thing about me. Fifty cents and i'm pissed!! LOL
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Santa Shows Up
A couple of weeks ago, I went into a local burrito place after my gym workout. I got in line, ordered my usual burrito and moved on down toward the cashier. As i did so, i noticed there was some playful banter going on behind the counter. I heard the cashier say to another young woman, “you’re just being nice cause you think santa is gonna come visit you”
Other woman says, “shoot, there ain’t no santa.”
This really caught my attention. I looked up and said, “what, you don’t believe in santa.?”
She was caught. She looked up at me and just grinned and shook her head no. “wow. Ah, man, you Gotta believe in Santa” I said.
I paid for my burrito and left.
Of course, this was just a good-natured ribbing/teasing going on. The young woman was african-american with a sweet smile, and couldn’t have been more then 24. I left and kept thinking about her and that i wanted to do something for her before christmas.
Fast forward to this past week. A few days ago I went into the burrito place and talked to the same cashier who had waited on me before. I asked, “do you remember the girl who said she didn’t believe in santa claus?” “Yeah, it was Janet.”
“Is Janet here tonight?”
“No, she’ll be here on Friday.” The woman smiled at me like she knew i was up to something.
Fast forward to yesterday, Friday December 22.
Someone at work had given me a very small palm sized tin with a gift card in it. I took the gift card out and replaced it with a $50 dollar bill and went down to the burrito place.
I saw that Janet was working and there were no customers in line. I went up to the counter and asked, “Are you Janet?”
Looking at me a bit suspiciously, she said quietly, “yeah..”
“Do you remember i came in a couple of weeks ago and you had said you didn’t believe in santa?”
She smiled and blushed a bit and tried to recall the conversation.
“yeah, i think so..did i say that? yeah, i guess i did.”
I looked at her, smiled, and put the tin case on the counter. Sliding it over to her, I said, “well, santa wants you to have this.”
She took the tin, opened it, saw the $50 bill and exclaimed, “oh my god, are you serious!!??!!”
“YEAH” I said
She was laughing, smiling and walked over to my side of the counter and gave me a great big hug. “merry christmas.” I said
We parted from the hug and i pointed to the tin and said, “i hope you can buy something for yourself”
“oh my god, thank you so much. thank you. thank you. thank you.”
Another big hug from Janet.
We wished each other another merry christmas and i left. Once i got outside and out of sight, i let my feelings out...my laughter, my smiles and i jumped up and down. i was so damn happy. i cannot even tell you. my words will never do the moment justice. the look on Janet, a stranger’s face, was so remarkable. She was utterly stunned by the gift, the gesture. She was thrilled. To watch the transformation of her face from the time i walked in until the time i departed was priceless. I was so happy to do this act..to give this gift.
Who knows what the money will be able to buy. Maybe a gift for a child she has? Maybe a gift for a parent? A boyfriend? Herself? I don’t know and it’s not my business to know. I’m just so freaking happy i thought to do this and that i had it to give. It was my pleasure.
And to me, this is what Christmas is about.....
Other woman says, “shoot, there ain’t no santa.”
This really caught my attention. I looked up and said, “what, you don’t believe in santa.?”
She was caught. She looked up at me and just grinned and shook her head no. “wow. Ah, man, you Gotta believe in Santa” I said.
I paid for my burrito and left.
Of course, this was just a good-natured ribbing/teasing going on. The young woman was african-american with a sweet smile, and couldn’t have been more then 24. I left and kept thinking about her and that i wanted to do something for her before christmas.
Fast forward to this past week. A few days ago I went into the burrito place and talked to the same cashier who had waited on me before. I asked, “do you remember the girl who said she didn’t believe in santa claus?” “Yeah, it was Janet.”
“Is Janet here tonight?”
“No, she’ll be here on Friday.” The woman smiled at me like she knew i was up to something.
Fast forward to yesterday, Friday December 22.
Someone at work had given me a very small palm sized tin with a gift card in it. I took the gift card out and replaced it with a $50 dollar bill and went down to the burrito place.
I saw that Janet was working and there were no customers in line. I went up to the counter and asked, “Are you Janet?”
Looking at me a bit suspiciously, she said quietly, “yeah..”
“Do you remember i came in a couple of weeks ago and you had said you didn’t believe in santa?”
She smiled and blushed a bit and tried to recall the conversation.
“yeah, i think so..did i say that? yeah, i guess i did.”
I looked at her, smiled, and put the tin case on the counter. Sliding it over to her, I said, “well, santa wants you to have this.”
She took the tin, opened it, saw the $50 bill and exclaimed, “oh my god, are you serious!!??!!”
“YEAH” I said
She was laughing, smiling and walked over to my side of the counter and gave me a great big hug. “merry christmas.” I said
We parted from the hug and i pointed to the tin and said, “i hope you can buy something for yourself”
“oh my god, thank you so much. thank you. thank you. thank you.”
Another big hug from Janet.
We wished each other another merry christmas and i left. Once i got outside and out of sight, i let my feelings out...my laughter, my smiles and i jumped up and down. i was so damn happy. i cannot even tell you. my words will never do the moment justice. the look on Janet, a stranger’s face, was so remarkable. She was utterly stunned by the gift, the gesture. She was thrilled. To watch the transformation of her face from the time i walked in until the time i departed was priceless. I was so happy to do this act..to give this gift.
Who knows what the money will be able to buy. Maybe a gift for a child she has? Maybe a gift for a parent? A boyfriend? Herself? I don’t know and it’s not my business to know. I’m just so freaking happy i thought to do this and that i had it to give. It was my pleasure.
And to me, this is what Christmas is about.....
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