People Love Asses

Back in February of 2002, I created this blog, my online personal journal. I needed a name for my newly birthed project on that cold February day long ago and so I referred to my refridgerator magnet poetry for inspiration.

There were two lines of poetry that were very special to me. Two lines that my good friend Shawn had strung together when I lived in a 6th Avenue apartment in Huntington, WV. And when I moved to lovely Saint Albans after completing college, I moved those two lines of poetry in tact. And those two lines were:

"Never manipulate my black lust god!!!" & "Skin my thousand asses!!!"

Because I wanted to honor my friend Shawn, and because I needed a title that would fit with the vision of what I wanted my journal to be, I chose the latter of those two beautiful lines of poetic verse.

You know, when I first named this website I didn't give any thought to the fact that having the word "ass" or "asses" in my title would determine what sort of people would randomly find me. It never crossed my mind that I would be inviting perverts and horny males of all ages to browse through the digital pages of my history. But today, as I browsed through the statistics and information complied for my by StatCounter.com, the harsh reality hit me.

As I read I found that several individuals had searched for pornography or nude photos and, most likely much to their disappointment, had found my site instead. Someone from Mountain View, CA had searched for "Big old asses" at 1:24 AM. Someone from Flint, MI wanted to see some "thick black asses" today at 12:45 AM. An internet user from Paragould City Light & Water in Little Rock, AR searched for "pregnant porn". A horny individual with high standards from Denver, CO wanted to see "perfect asses" & a qwirky cuss with his wang dangling from Lewiston, ID wanted "apple bottom asses". My personal favorite, however, came from the little town of Magnolia, AR. This individual wanted a down home country girl as he/she was searching for pictures of "cornbread fed asses"!

Initially, I was a bit perturbed by the fact that I have pervs and porn-a-holics reading my personal info. Then I felt relief as I noticed that most of them only stayed on the site a matter of seconds before clicking off so that they could get off. And then I felt somewhat pleased that the title of my site was interesting enough to attract their attention for even a second! Shawn, I owe you so much! If it weren't for your clever words, I might never have been touched by so many dirty minded people! Thank you!!! Thank you!!!!!!

And now in the style of Wank I ponder, "What have I learned today?"

Well, I've learned that people love asses! So much that they search for pictures of all shapes, sizes, and colors of them on the Internet daily! Here's to all you ass lovers out there!

Nyquil? Tylenol Cold? Cipro? God? Something please help me!!!!

I'm tired of being sick!!! I hacked and coughed for most of the night, and didn't rest well until later in the morning. I was supposed to get up early and do the Christmas shopping for one of my residents at work. But becaue of my poor night's rest, I didn't get up early enough to go to the mall. So I called my supervisor and she was like, "Oh, I was hoping all of that would be done tonight." And I had to defend myself, "Well, I intended to have it done, but I didn't plan on being up most of the night coughing and choking on my mucus."

I've been sick for a little over a week and I've gone to work every damn day. I had to work this weekend, so I've had no real rest. And tomorrow, on my day off, they're having the Christmas party for the girls at work and it would be frowned upon if I don't show up.

I feel like shit. I don't want to go to work today. I know I have to go in on my "day off" tomorrow. I'm feeling terribly untherapeutic at the moment.

Winter isn't coming! It already came! Right on the winshield of my car!!

People in Baltimore DO NOT know how to drive in ice and snow!

Several stupid Baltimorians driving in front of me on my way home tonight seemed perturbed when they tried to go up an incline and found it somewhat icy. So instead of slowing down, kicking their car into low gear, and proceeding up the hill they turn around in the middle of the fucking road, nearly causing several accidents, and drove back down the icy hill! Does this make the slightest bit of sense to anyone out there? IDIOTS!

And you would've thought a blizzard had hit tonight from Rose's report of the activity down at the local Superfresh (grocery store). Lines 10 people long at every register, including the self-check out lanes.

Oh boy. Now this should be an interesting winter.

Light My Fire, damn it!!!

I coaxed Crescent & Rose into joining me to go see a band on Saturday. As were about to be whisked away by Rosie in her Benzie toward the Box of Funk, Craig returned from Christmas shopping and decided to accompany us. So Craig, Crescent, Rose & I all took a trip down to Federal Hill in Baltimore to the Funk Box, and a trip back in time, to see The Doors!

Well...okay. So it wasn't really the Doors. (I understand that Jim Morrison is quite dead and buried in gay Paris. May we all lament for the death of his cock. Sore and crucified.) It was a tribute band called The Soft Parade, the members of which make it their business to "recreate the theatrical, poetic, primal atmosphere of a live Doors concert for today's audiences."

It was almost insane, really. The lead singer had the long Jimmy Morrison wavy locks, the tight black leather pants, the big ugly brown leather jacket, the whole deal! He looked like Jim Morrison might have, if he had lived and hit the middle-age spread. Basically, it was fat Jimmy...kinda like fat Elvis.

The keyboard player looked very much like Ray Manzarek, keyboardist for the Doors, complete with the 70's style blonde mop hairdo, ugly shirt & blazer combo, and large framed 70's glasses. And the guitarist might have passed on the street for Robby Krieger, guitarist for the Doors, with his receding frizzed out shoulder length hair & hideous 70's attire. The drummer, however, didn't look much at all like John Densmore, drummer for the Doors. Nope. But boy was he sexy! =)

So, they had the look, but more impressive, they really and truly had the sound of the Doors. The lead singer actually sounded like Jim Morrison! The keyboardist used the same type of keyboards that Manzarek used to play and he played them well! It was terribly...well...groovy!

The first couple of songs were somewhat disappointing, as no one in the group knew them. But then they played "People are Strange" and everyone was able to sing along. After that, I'm pretty sure that I knew every song but a couple. Crescent and I were wiggling our asses and doing silly dances once the alcohol lowered our inhibitions a bit. (Rose didn't drink due to being the DD. Craig didn't drink because he is a GREAT, HUGE WALKING VAGINA!!! Well...that and he has tummy troubles.)

I demonstrated for Crescent the famous hippy finger watching dance that Beth (Ben's pot head-hippy-next door neighbor at 1913 6th Avenue) taught me at the Stoned Monkey in 1997 after getting me totally stoned in her car. Cres and I went downstairs and danced with the other drunken fools in front of the stage. After a few minutes, we noticed that the dance floor was actually bending & bouncing under the weight of all the people. We were afraid that we'd fall through to the trendy black toilets in the bathrooms down below, so we went back up to the balcony section to rejoin Craig and Rose.

In between every song, the band asked for requests. In the beginning I screamed out, "L.A. Woman!" or "Riders on the Storm!". As the night wore on, I got a little anxious that I wouldn't get to hear my all time favorite Doors song, "Light my Fire". So I began yelling out "Light my Fire!" And Crescent began saying, "Light her Fire!! For the love of god, light this woman's fire!!!" So they began singing "The End", which is a song that often ended many Doors concerts, and I began to feel drunkenly disappointed. And then they said goodnight and walked off stage! I joined in the chorus of people screaming, "Encore! Encore!", stamping my boots and clapping my hands. And, of course, they came back! And I screamed "Light my Fire, damn it!!!" one last time. And they did. And I danced and sang and acted a fool...and felt very happy doing it! =)

The Thirsty Dog & the Quest for the glowing Golden Arches

After enjoying the wonder that was The Soft Parade, we staggered and walked down the street to The Thirsty Dog Pub, which is a little brew pub a few doors down from the Funk Box on Federal Hill. It's a bar that actually allows owners to bring their mutts if they so choose. I discovered it during my date with Eric, the Jew. It's a very charming little place, with a fireplace blazing on the first floor and a second floor with cozy seating and charming bare brick walls. Crescent and I drank two Peach Dogs each.

As we were contemplating the idea of going back to Cres & Craig's townhome to order pizza, the waitress asked us to finish our beer downstairs as the bar would be closing soon. Maryland is slightly retarded when it comes to the time the bars close...2 AM. Who ever heard of such a thing? Baltimore is a large, advanced city!!! Doesn't it follow reason that their bars should stay open later? All night, in fact?

Well, we walked downstairs, guzzling and gulping our amber nectar and I'm sure I ranted against the early closing of the bar for a moment or two. Somehow our conversation turned to McDonald's and Crescent suddenly became a Big Mac fiend, bound and determined that we should set forth at once to the land of Golden Arches! And so we began our quest for an open McDonald's with a glimmer of hope. But that hope was extinguished when we founde every drive-thru window dark & every Golden Arch dimmed. It was a very sad & hungry Crescent that we left with Craig on their doorstep that night.

Baltimore area DMB Wannabes

The Dave Matthews Band Wannabes actually have a name and a website. You can learn more about These Crowded Streets <--- by clicking on that link.

To believe...

I spent this evening painting ceramics and watching The Santa Clause and Miracle on 34th Street with my girls at the Center.

In the middle of The Santa Clause, one of the girls responded with incredulity to a comment my coworker, Sonja, made regarding Santa being real. She then turned to me and asked, "Ms. Christina...do you believe in Santa Claus?"

I stopped and thought for a second and answered, "I believe in the spirit of Santa Claus. Or the spirit of Christmas or Christ or whatever you want to call it. The spirit of giving, loving, and believing in something bigger and more magical than ourselves."

That answer satisfied her and she turned back to the movie. She was done, but I became thoughtful. I realized that I'm such an adult now...giving the answer my mother gave me not too long ago. And I realized that I want nothing more than to be a child again. To be able to believe. To believe in Santa Claus. To believe in anything other than what I see with my own two eyes or hear with my own two ears. To believe in magic and those untouchable, pure things of dreams & fairytales.

But I'm all grown up now.

"everybody knows
it hurts to grow up
but everybody does
it's so weird to be back here
let me tell you what
the years go on and
we're still fighting it
and you're so much like me
i'm sorry"

~ Ben Folds from Still Fighting It

A Random phone conversation

This morning I got a phone call from Captain Random himself, Eric Abston. He was just checking in to make sure the "Baltmore hood rats" hadn't beaten me to a bloody pulp. And he wished me a Merry ChrismaHanaKwanzakha! I ensured him that, although I've been kicked in the breast, and most recently punched in the right arm and kicked in the right leg (with big blue bruises to prove it), I'm holding my own at work.

He then spent the next 15 minutes telling me how fabulous Pointe Break is and demanding that I watch it soon. And he bitched about Maryland not having "misleading road signs" and "not enough gas stations" along the Interstates. He declared that he was going to save up a bunch of trash and litter all over the place the next time he was in my new state.

Crazy bastard! I miss him, though. =)

How OCD did she be?

Rose and I finished decorating for Christmas today and did a little shopping. It was nice to spend the day together. We haven't really got to do that much since I moved up here due to her working like a mad banshee all the time. But, yeah, it was nice.

We reminisced about Christmases past, and this and that, and she discussed her Obsessive/Compulsive traits quite candidly with me. She doesn't really have too many these days besides making sure that her food doesn't touch and making sure she eats everything on her plate in an orderly fashion. (Chinese food is stressful for her. And those weird concoctions that Dad sometimes throws together usually blow her mind.) But when we were younger, my oh my, how OCD she be.

I remember her doing this thing with her hands over and over before she went to sleep and she'd repeat this little prayer thing every time she'd do the hand thing: "I love mommy, and daddy, and bubby, and sissy, and I love Chris Noel!" When she got older she had this thing with shoes. She bought shoes like I bought candy and then she never wanted to throw them away! Even if they were tattered, stinky, and full of holes!

Today she told me that it usd to annoy the hell out of her if she'd accidentally touch something or brush something lightly as she walked past it. And she'd have to go back and firmly touch it before she'd feel at ease again. For example, she would walk through the kitchen and her hand would lightly brush the towel hanging on the refrigerator as she passed by. In her head, she felt like the towel would "itch" or be all freaked out and squirmy until she went by and firmly gripped it for a moment and then let it go. Interesting, isn't it?

People who demonstrate OCD traits usually are trying to distract themselves from a larger issue that's troubling them and the ritualistic and obsessive behavior they engage in keeps them preoccupied. Also it's related to control issues. OCD individuals are exerting control in some way over their environments through their behaviors. Very, very interesting.

Rosie, thanks for giving me permission to post your info. I really appreciate it!

DMB Wannabes

We went to see a Dave Matthews tribute/cover band tonight at one of my new favorite music venues, the The Funk Box. They were rather good. 'Specially that saxaphone player! Damn, he was wailing tonight, making it a little hard for me to stand still! =)

I'm glad we went. It always makes me feel alive to see music created before my eyes and in my ears. =)

Le Sigh: A Poem

Ick! Ick! Ick! I'm feeling sick!
Sinus trouble. Mucus bubble.
Hack! Hack! Hack! Snot green as Gak!
My throat is sore. White blood cell war.
Ill! Ill! Ill! I need Nyquil!
To lay down my head. In my lonely bed.

Last night I had a very disturbing dream.

It started with me and three other people in my car. We were all dressed in black and I knew that we were going to a funeral. Someone was dead. There was a twenty something male and female in the back...my friends...I'm not sure who. And a twenty something male in the front seat with me...I was driving.

We were anxious that we would be late. The guy in the front especially. And he was very sad. He sort of looked like Eric, the Jewish boy with whom I recently went on a date. He kept rubbing his hands together & covering his face, exhaling heavily. He was very, very pale. We flashed from the highway to the winding roads of a cemetery, the graves covered with green grass and the gently sloping little hills dotted with gigantic oaks and grey & white headstones.

We pulled up beside a black hearse in a little parking lot area near a mosuleum. The back of the hearse, instead of being closed and having a coffin laid out, was sort of extended out like a truck. Instead of a coffin, the deceased young man was sitting up in a large throne-like dark wooden chair with intricate carvings and gold detailing. His blazing blue eyes were open and he was looking straight ahead, with no expression on his face. My car window was closest to him and I looked up at him. He turned his pale face towards me and smiled a that big, beautiful, honest, & welcoming smile that I remembered. It was my former junior high boyfriend and former high school friend, Robert Honaker, who died July 14, 1997 when I was 18 and he was 20, in a terrible car accident.

He just smiled down at me and we said hi and exchanged a few words:

Me: I've missed you.
Him: Me too.
Me: This is sad, isn't it?
Him: Yeah. It is.

He shrugged, the smile faded from his face, and his eyes moved to the boy next to me. He now wore a troubled look. I turned to look at the boy next to me. He was sweating fiercely, hands on his knees, and breathing heavily. Frowning, I looked back to Robert. I had a pang of fear in my chest. His pale face was a mask of calm concern.

Me: So what now?
Him: It won't be long.

Suddenly the boy next to me said, "Oh god! I'm going to be sick! I need to throw up!" And he jumped out of the car and ran a few feet from my car, across the parking lot. I remember feeling alarmed and thinking, "Throw up? He can't. He's dead. He's been enbalmed. All of his organs are sealed in little plastic baggies! He can't vomit!"

Robert looked on with that calm, pitying look and my passengers and I looked on with horror as we watched our walking-dead friend attempt to vomit. He gagged. Clear liquid came out...yellowish liquid. And then he gagged and gagged. And out came a clear plastic bag with an organ, maybe his heart. Then a larger one...his lungs maybe? Yellowish green liquid came pouring out followed by plastic bag after plastic bag containing his precious organs.

And then I woke up.

I'm glad that you had no regard for me
that you ripped through my gifts like an eager child on Christmas
or perhaps like a disobedient child the night before
with no thought to his parents' disappointment
on Christmas morn'

Jim's Christmas party, Crescent, & the Brew Pub

Friday night I went to a Christmas party at Jim Caruther's house (if that's his real name!) He made this awesome red Christmas brew that had rum and all sorts of goodies in it! I don't think it was quite "magic juice" but almost! And he had these delicious balls of meat (also called meatballs), deviled eggs, artichoke hearts, and cookies! Yum, yum, yum!

I took Craig's roomie, Crescent, with me. We left as Crescent had to meet up with her friend Monica to go X-mas shopping the next morning. That didn't stop us, however, from hitting a brew pub in Ellicot City, the name of which I can't recall. But boy did they have excellent brew! We drank until 1 or 2am and chatted with a bald gay man who was sitting next to us at the bar. All I remember was that the guy had a necklace of frankincense and myrrh. And Crescent mentioned that all over her friends want her to buy them plasma TVs for Christmas. We thought that she should raid a blood bank for it's plasma, get a few old TVs from a pawn shop, and then smear the plasma on the TVs, and then give them as gifts for Christmas! It was a fabulous time! Cres is so much fun!! She's so funny, witty, and smart!!! No wonder Craig has her as a roomie!

A nice Jewish boy

Saturday I had another match.com date. The guy was really nice and we had a great time laughing and joking, but I wasn't really attracted to him "in that way", which is very unfortunate. He was Jewish...acutally the first Jewish person that I've met. And I was the first girl from West Virginia that grew up in a single-wide trailer, with a trash pile in the yard and Mustang on cinderblocks in the driveway that he had met. We discussed South Park. =) We decided that I'm like Kenny and he's like Kyle. He let me call him a goddamned dirty Jew! (I've never actually said that before and had it have meaning until last night!!!) Overall I had a very nice time and he was so much fun to hang out with! I hope that he's up for just being friends. We'll see.

Trimming my tree, Don Pablo's, & the Fish Tacos

Today I slept in till and ungodly hour and then decorated our apartment Christmas style. We have lights in the windows, lights on the tall lamp, a 6' Christmas tree, my small tree in the kitchen, real pine garland in the windows, on the tables, and on the bookcase accented with red bows, lights in my fake tree, lights on the doorways, and candles everywhere! It's lovely!

Tonight Rosie and I went to dinner at a mexican restaurant called Don Pablo's. They had fish tacos on the menu!!! Mesquite flavored Mahi Mahi tacos! I laughed my ass of when I read it! Fish tacos!!!! =) And I had to call Chris, Shawn, and Sean to let them know. =)

Anyway, I ate there on my first visit up and met this darling waiter named Jim. Well, he still works there and served us again tonight. The awesome thing is that he remembered us! He came up and tapped me on my shoulder...actually he kept touching me. I think the final count was 5 or 6 times. He asked Rose where we lived and sat down and chatted for about 15 minutes. When we were leaving he asked if we were going to come back and see him and asked to be seated in his section. We assured him that we would and he proceeded to provide us with his schedule for the next week. Hmmm...this could be promising! So it looks like I'll be eating Mexican on Friday.

You never told me that everything bleeds upside down in your room.

And now my veins burn like the river Nile.

rain down the window pain
raining down sideways
over my highways
and under my skin

Whew!

What a bloody fucking crazy night last night! I took a girl to the hospital for a minor injury and during the trip she attempted to AWOL. She somehow wiggled her way out of those damn handcuffs and was working on the shackles around her ankles. She then turned her attention to the door of the vehicle and figured out how to unlock it (which, by the way, was supposed to be totally secure). Then she got out and began walking away from us, barefoot and still shackled, in the parking lot of the hospital. We coaxed her back into the van and locked her in again, she started cursing, screaming, and banging on the windows. I had to hold the door closed the entire way back to the Center! It was insane!

Also, I had a voice mail message from some psycho on my phone last night saying that "he knows I used his social security number to get a cell phone and that I lived in the Washington area and that he was going to come after me and I would pay"! I called Cingular today to try to clear the whole mess up and verify my social security number and other account information. They said nothing was amiss with my account. What the fuck? Crazy shit!

Regarding my romantic life, my date called me very, very late on Friday night. I was pissed and depressed thinking that he had stood me up totally. Well he called and so I drove down to the Eastern Shore of Maryland (where he lives) to meet up with him. We had a nice time, but ultimately our personalities didn't click very well. He reminded me very much of Chris in that he was stubborn and unyielding in many of his views...(no offense Chris, but you know you're stubborn)...and those views conflicted with mine. We simply didn't see eye to eye. And he was terribly impatient and curt with me at moments. As you can imagine, I didn't respond well to that. I figure that if I get pissed off on a date then it's not going anywhere.

Although the date was a flop, I did enjoy the beauty of the Eastern Shore. Everyone is raving about how lovely it is, so I was planning on making a trip there eventually anyway. I was impressed by the parts close by the water, because the water is so beautiful. But really the place looked a lot like Ohio...with water. It was mostly flat farmland with big, weathered farm houses, haggard-looking gas stations, hunting reserves, and the occassional fast food place dotting the landscape.

On my way to and from the Eastern Shore I crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. On the trip in it was dark and I was driving along talking to my mom on my cell phone. I realized that I was crossing a bridge and then it hit me that I'd been on this bridge for longer than usual. I then noticed that I was surrounded by a large expanse of ominous darkness on my right and in the distance I could see lights dotting a shoreline far away. To my left was the other arm of the bridge carrying cars back westward to the mainland of Maryland. Beyond that lighted highway in the air, there was nothing but blackness and tiny dots of lights on the other shore. I've never been one to be afraid of crossing water, but for a moment I was afraid. The following day, on my trip back to Baltimore, I was awed by the magnificence of the structure and by the beauty of the glittering Bay. It was one of those gold dust moments...the kind you wish you could freeze forever. Next time, I'll take my camera. =)

Turkey for you...Turkey for me

I hope everyone had a lovely Turkey Day! I got to go home this past weekend and spend some quality time with my beloved family and friends. We spent Saturday at my folk's and had a late Thanksgiving Dinner and I then trotted to the Kabuki Rodeo to spend a fun night with Burnsy, Pat, Crystal, and My Nora. Sunday I hung out with Wayne, Cheryl, Rosie, and my little Meggie-poo.

Rose and I bought Meg a rainbow canopy to go over her bed. She calls it her "Care Bear Rainbow". She told me yesterday on the phone that she "loves her rainbow cause it makes her room cozy". God, I miss that little angel-faced munchkin!

Little Bo Peep restrained her sheep...

So my holiday was good, but tiring. I've returned to work and I'm pretty much back in the swing of things there. I'm finding that I like it better than previously, probably because I'm becoming more acclimated to my coworkers and the girls. The population I'm working with is a very difficult group and I guess it was normal for me to feel intimidated at first. But now I'm not so startled when I witness or participate in a restraint. Oh sorry...what I meant to say was "therapeutic hold".

Speaking of which, I got kicked in the boobie last Friday during a hold. That girl was a fucking beast, man! She fought for two hours, even after a shot of Thorazine, and it took 16 people to get her under control! She bit one staff person and injured the knees of one other. We finally called the cops. Crazy, eh?

GEEEETAAARRRRR!!!!!

I have an important announcement to make! I finally, with the help of Mr. Jim...*cough* *cough* "Caruthers" and the long-haired guitar boy at the Bill's House of Music, purchased a guitar last night! Huzzzah!!! My guitar quest is over...for now.

I had my eye on a lovely EG540C NEX Cutaway Acoustic-Electric Guitar by Takamine in this fabulous electric blue color. But it's priced at $450 and I just don't have that kind of money to spend right now. Nor do I really need a flashy, sexy, guitar that I can plug in to an amp at this point. So last night I settled on simple, yet very rich sounding Jasmine by Takamine S35 Acoustic Guitar. With a hard-shell case it only cost $180 and it's quite pretty in it's simple, solid way. But what makes it more beautiful is the sound it produces. It's actually louder and richer than the fancy acoustic-electric I was lusting after!

I had Jim play guitar after guitar to get his opinion and we were stuggling between a few choices, when he asked the guitar boy what he could reccommend. He brought the Jasmine, which vibrated terribly because it needed an adjustment. I was thinking, "Hell no! Is this man out of his fucking mind?" He asked us to wait a moment and took a new one out of it's case. Jim tuned it and played it...and then played another we had been looking at. After many minutes of going back and forth, I sat down with the guitar. After a few minutes of me strumming the few chords that I know on each guitar, I decided on the Jasmine. And so that's the story of how I got my first guitar. Now I just need to set up lessons!

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match...

As some of you know, I've been a member of match.com for a little while. I've met some very nice people, but no one I "clicked" with.. Well, last Wednesday evening I met up with a very attractive, intelligent, witty, and charming guy down at the Inner Harbour. His name is Sean. He's 6'6", 240lbs., and is a Petty Officer First Class in the Coast Guard. I had a really nice time with him and I plan on seeing him again Friday. It was really nice being able to look up at someone for a chance. So, we'll see.

One of these days I'll get it right. I believe that each person deserves to be with someone who is totally and completely all about them. Someone who will support them, be their best friend, and who will be their equal and partner through life. That's what I have to offer someone and one of these days someone will understand what I'm offering, will treasure it, and will take me up on that offer for the rest of my life.

And now I need to go "warsh my stanky ass", as one of my girls would say, so that I'm not late for work. Ah, I wonder what type of mood my little angels will be in tonight?

My new life

It's all winding down. The whole shock of the move. I'm physically settled and that feeling that everything is temporary is fading. For a bit, it all just felt like an extended visit, but now it feels more real. And now I just have to work on becoming mentally settled here. But isn't that always the case for all of us? Always busily working, are we, to settle our minds and attain some level of peace.

What I need now is to explore my new environment and its people. To touch, to taste, and to be. To breathe in the night air in the city. To admire the glow of the lights, the sparkling presence of those imposing steel and concrete constructions downtown. To admire the glow or pallor of the faces that walk through and by their walls every day. And to learn from it all what I can. In the end, I need to define my new life here and find where my puzzle piece fits.

It's exciting, but also lonely. And everything that I've always dreamed of. Although I hoped to be in a better state physically and emotionally while doing it...but you take what life gives you, ne c'est pas?

So far I've had a good time. Craig has been very kind to keep me company and show me around Ellicot City & DC. With Jim I've played poker, gone guitar shopping in Catonsville, and stepped out onto the local club/music scene at Federal Hill. And Rose has been there every step of the way to support, encourage, and to remind me that home is family...and family is there long after everything else fades away. So far I've had a good time.

But I need more people. More laughter. I find myself hungry for friends of my own. And I miss my own quirky little circle of friends, scattered as it's members are, but beloved beyond all reason. Shawn, Chris, Ken, Sean...my boys. I miss you. And I love you. The love that I bear for you is truer than anything I have called "love" in the past...because it's the love one feels for brothers. More steady than any quick and heated passion.

But I can't be with you because you're there and there and there. And I am here. And I am faced with carving out my new life here. Creating for myself a world with my deeds and words. So I make a promise to myself now at the dawning of my newness. I have been living to please others for a long time and I can't do it anymore. I began refusing other's claims on me over two years ago, trying to regain control of my life, but now I lay it all down. All of it.

I find that I try to be perfect, clever, beautiful. So, so smart & so, so funny. Sweetness, light, and everything linen-fresh clean. For all of them and for all of you. “A fine accessory for the discerning gentleman”. I try to smile even when no one is looking.

But all I am is this skin, this sinew, and this bone. A woman, tired and imperfect, but alive with red, red, red blood coursing through her veins. And a fierce passionate heart. I don't want to try to be perfect anymore. Because I'll never be able to do it.

I don’t want to be smooth; I’d rather be jagged and sharp. I don’t want to be timid and pause before every move. I will follow my instincts and I will not apologize. I will do things simply for pleasure and I will not regret. I will laugh, I will cry, I will scream, I will be angry, and I will love. And I will not apologize for the state of my heart.

I won’t pretend that I know when I don’t. I won’t smile when I don’t feel it. I will not stay where I am not wanted. I will not hide behind my eyes. I will be impatient and I will push. I will ask when I have questions. I will not compromise what I want.

And so it goes.

Take it as it comes and take me as I am
I never was a good imposter
But I know how to dream
And don’t know where I stand
I’m willing to admit I try too hard

Every time it rains
I know it's good to be alive
And every time it rains
I know I'm tyring to survive

Charlotte Martin from Every Time It Rains

I've discovered that I do a lot of thinking on my 40 to 45 minute drive to and from work every day. And when I have time just to think, I'm often inspired to record my thoughts. So I've started taking a little mini recorder with me in the car, so that I can capture anything thought that feels like it needs capturing.

So far I haven't come up with any earth-shattering epiphanies. Just random stream of consciousness thoughts and muddled song lyrics. But what the hell, right?

November 15, 2004 - 6:45 AM

Morning, frost covered and chill. Tiny balls of light glow from the apartments and houses as I drive by. The trees stand naked and shivering. And I see the hint of dawn coloring the sky a light orange-pink. My eyes are sleepy and my head is a little clouded from the weekend. My chest feels leaden and I wonder if I will be happy here in this city. In my city.

I’m a little nauseous. I’m supposed to be at work in 10 minutes. But my tire was low and I almost ran out of gas, so I had to stop. Now it’s a right toward Baltimore onto I 95, southward bound. I slide down the road and into the sea of cars. I have to be at work in 10 minutes. There is no possible way in this traffic.

I slide into the heavy morning. Part of me cares. Part of me doesn’t. This job is not quite what I was looking for. But I wonder will any of it be? It’s not what I’m hungry after, but we've got to pay the bills.

I feel so...stagnant. I want to learn, do research, grow...to do something more than this. God, I feel like I’m floating, disconnected from everything. So uninteresting and so boring. And I hate the way I feel. I’m like a sponge, absorbing the interesting in everyone else around me just so that I can have some sort of glimmer of life. Sort of vampiric, isn’t it? And I suck, suck, suck, suck suck, suck, suck, suck, suck.

Love always,

Your Soul Vampire

I do it for the joy it brings
because i'm a joyful girl
because the world owes me nothing
and we owe each other the world

I do it because it's the least I can do
I do it because I learned it from you
I do it just because I want to
because I want to

everything I do is judged
and they mostly get it wrong, but oh well
'cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
and the woman who lives there can tell

the truth from the stuff that they say
and she looks me in the eye
and says would you prefer the easy way?
no, well o.k. then don't cry

~ Ani Difranco from Joyful Girl

In our town of Halloween...

I decided not to go to the Halloween Hootenanny at the Empty Glass this year due to how unappealing 14 hours of driving in a 48-hour period seemed. Instead, I accepted Craig’s invitation to attend a little Halloween gathering at a friend’s house in DC. It was so much fun! We drove to a station and took the metro into Union Station. We began walking toward his coworker's house and I was excited to see the Capitol brightly glowing in the distance. It sort of blew my mind that I live so close to the nation's capitol! =)

We made quite a crew, walking down the sidewalks of DC toward the party in our Halloween getups, and people stopped to stare at us along the way. Craig was dressed as the Minister of Death or Darkness…or something evil, complete with flowing black robe and latex horns on his head. After seeing Craig, one fellow that we passed made the comment, “Hallelujah!!! Praise Jesus!!!” as if to ward off his evil. =)

Crescent, Craig’s roommate, was dressed as a sexy little Goth girl with fishnet stockings and pale cleavage gleaming in the moonlight. I was, of course, a wench in my little tavern wench costume that I wore for the part of Madame Mama during the Murder Mystery Party. I added a long wine-colored velvet cloak, tall black boots, and a long, brunette ponytail hairpiece to complete my ensemble. I was going to be a vampire tavern wench, however the teeth looked absurd and made it impossible to talk, so I left them in my purse all evening. I dubbed my costume “Generic Wench” and went on my merry way. =)

We met up with Craig’s friends Caleb, Ada, Steve, Corey, & Ali, and also Steve’s wife, Allison at Ali’s very tastefully decorated, very expensive, and high-ceilinged home, which was very near Capitol Hill. Caleb was dressed as a roman soldier and all through the night we addressed him as “Trojan Man”. Not only did we call him Trojan Man, but also sung it the way they do in the commercials. =) Ada was dressed as a cancan dancer with breasts pressed up to the sky, Ali was a naughty Catholic schoolgirl who reminded us all very much of Brittany Spears, Allison was a groovy witch with green hair and a neon green ringed witches hat, and Corey was a guy in a grass skirt wearing a coconut bra and a large straw hat. Steve was the only one who didn’t really have a costume, but he did have a very brightly colored feathered cap. I named him “Flamboyant Beer Drinking Man” much to the amusement and general pleasure of all.

After a bit of drinking beer, liquor, and wine and eating cheese and crackers, we set out walking to hit the bars. A short walk and a taxi ride later, we found ourselves as a three level bar called The Reef. The Reef, according to Craig, is famous for it’s plethora of aquariums. And indeed there were many on the second floor. Our crew, however, wound up on the third floor, which was the roof. We all gathered ‘round a table, talking and drinking by moon and flickering candlelight. The most interesting event that occurred during our stint at The Reef was Crescent being approached by a guy wearing a Scream costume that kept saying, “Don’t be skurred!!!” Of course, the drunkards kept making fun of him, repeatedly saying, “Don’t be skurred!!!” the remainder of the evening. Hmmm…yeah…it seemed like a good idea at the time.

The evening gets a little blurry for me here. At this point I had had three shots of something Craig mixed that we named “Demon Semen” in his honor, three beers, two glasses of wine, and all on an empty stomach. (Yay, Christina!!! Way to go!!!) I think maybe I should’ve renamed my costume “Drunken Wench” by the evenings end. At any rate, I know we left The Reef and walked and walked and walked forever until we got some pizza and then went to a really huge sports bar. At that point, I was “asleep on my feet” according to Craig and very drunk.

After a while, we finally walked back to catch the metro and then Craig drove a passed-out Crescent and me back to their townhouse where we were able to indulge in sweet oblivious drunken sleep. I treated them to breakfast the next morning and spent the better part of the day lounging around with Craig, Crescent’s dog, Cooper, and Craig’s cat, Cougar.

All in all, it was a lovely Halloween experience…in spite of the cloudy brain from the alcohol. Craig’s friends were fun people and were very welcoming. And I had a wonderful time just being with Craig.

I went down to the ocean today…

I was off this past Wednesday and on Tuesday evening I decided that I would take a spontaneous trip to the beach, just for the day, on my day off. I’ve always wanted to go to the ocean at this time of year, with the sky such a crisp, startling blue, the wind tinged with a chilling bite, and the sun still warm, but fading. So I invited Craig to come along and he accepted. The next morning he came over and we deliberated a bit on where to go, finally settling on Atlantic City.

After three hours and a wrong turn (courtesy of me), we made it to the Vegas of the East coast. Wow, were we ever disappointed!!! It wasn’t nearly as large as I anticipated and aside from the 10 to 15 Casinos, there were sad looking strip clubs, skin shops, run down or deserted restaurants, run down hotels, and beach shops full of useless shit. On the boardwalk we encountered maybe one or two people our age. The rest were old people shuffling up and down, squandering their life savings before it’s too late. =)

We made our way down to the beach, parts of which were being restored due to erosion, and spread a big orange beach blanket out on the sand. I, of course, had to go down and put my feet in the freezing water and managed to get the bottoms of my pants wet. (Yay!) A few moments of icy water was enough and I retreated to the dry sand, joining Craig on the blanket.

We sat there for about an hour, talking about the whole Long Beach situation and what transpired afterwards. He informed me that he had to spend the night on the beach that night long ago while waiting for his parents to arrive, and upon hearing this I felt horrible all over again. I thought of how many were hurt that night by our thoughtless actions, mainly Ben, Craig, & me. I talked about the course of my relationship with Ben over the years and he shared the rise and fall of his past romantic involvements as well. And we enjoyed the ocean, the sun, the wind, the sand, the company…and the sound of the bulldozer steadily working to rebuild the beach. =) In spite of the bulldozer, it was nice. Very relaxed. Very non-stress. Very much just being. And being together.

After a bit, we decided to find food, so we gathered out things and started back toward the car. On the way, I got ripped off, I mean, I got my palm read for five dollars. The “psychic” kept pushing me to get a tarot reading for $20 or more, but I politely declined…about five times! We got in the car and drove around a bit in search of a nice looking restaurant, but found nothing appealing. As I mentioned before, everything but the casinos were sort of run down and as neither one of us had the desire to gamble, we drove on out of town. Along the way home we stopped for dinner at a restaurant that had piqued our collective interest earlier, and after the meal we resumed our travels.

The ride home was long, due to my constant wrong turns and missed roads, but nice due to the pleasing company. I got a bit frustrated toward the end because I kept getting lost. Craig, however, was able to sooth my rattled nerves by joking that at least now we had seen a large part of southern New Jersey that neither of us had seen before! Finally, we made it back to my apartment and hung out and cuddled a bit. It was nothing short of a wonderful day. =)

I went back to the ocean today
With my books and my papers I went to the rocks by the ocean
But the weather changed quickly
The ocean said, "What are you trying to find?"
"I don't care, I'm not kind"
"I've bludgeoned your sailors and I've spat out their keepsakes"
"It's ashes to ashes, but always the ocean"
But the ocean can't come to this town
this town is a song about you.

You don't know how lucky you are
You don't know how much I adore you
You are the welcoming back from the ocean.

~ Dar Williams from The Ocean

The Incredibles and All I Know…

Tonight I went with Craig, Crescent, and their friend Monica to see The Incredibles in Columbia. It was a very cute, enjoyable film. Although it was very predictable, it was still entertaining.

And now here I am writing this and dreading working my weekend away. Let’s just hope that it’s a quiet weekend with no codes or restraints. =) I’m also processing the events of the last few weeks. Particularly the events of the last week. And particularly the events involving Craig.

So what’s the story morning glory? I’m not sure. I know that we’re both very much attracted to each other and that he can curl my toes with a kiss. I know that I like and respect the person that he seems to be and he appears to return those sentiments. I know that he stimulates me on an intellectual level in a way that I find quite pleasing. I know that the whole situation scares me a little. But I know that I want to continue spending time with him and exploring the person that he is. And that’s about all I know, but it’s enough.

Wow. It's been just over two weeks since I moved to Baltimore...and this is the first time I've really had a chance to sit down and process via my journal. Hmmm...well, let's see. I suppose we'll start with the packing, the goodbyes, and the move. And we'll call it...

And tomorrow say goodbye...

On October 15th, 2004, Wayne, Dad, Crystal, Tricia, & I loaded up all of my worldly possessions on a Budget rental truck bound for Baltimore, MD. Crystal & Tricia then helped me & the male members of the Garris household to clean up my little apartment at 2432 Shadyside Rd., for which I will be forever grateful. (Thank you absolutely fabulous ladies!!!) Steve stopped by that evening to bring me a photo collage, a card, & to get one long, last goodbye hug. Crystal & Tricia also brought me a card & some gifts which made me teary eyed. I was surprisingly able to choke back my impulse to boo hoo at that moment, but I assure you, it came out in a torrent the next day when I read the cards. But we'll get to that.

The week prior to October 15th I spent sorting and packing my things & saying goodbyes to all of my friends & acquaintances. There was the weekend of the Renaissance Festival, a dinner at Olive Garden with Dana & Monica (my former Prestera co-workers), & a dinner at Rio Grande with Sally, Nora, Jeane, & Cindy (my former Charleston Tx Center co-workers). There was a lunch at Charleston Tx Center so that I could say goodbye to the remaining staff from the "golden year at the methadone clinic" who were unable to attend the dinner at Rio. I spent an afternoon with Michelle driving around and taking pictures of the lovely WV autumn foilage. Crystal came over & helped me pack a couple of days. I managed to spend a little time with Wayne, Cheryl, & my Megan. And I managed to squeeze in one last Split Nixon show in the company of my Nora & Crystal.

I received Mr. Henderson's last attempt at a booty call at 4:00 am the night of the Split Nixon show. He had knocked over his microphone early in the show while voraciously playing a guitar solo. I told him I couldn't be with someone so uncoordinated, and besides, I had a hot chick (Nora) sleeping next to me and had no room for him in my bed. =) I also told him that I found his middle of the night booty calls quite endearing. *insert sarcasm here* The following morning, Nora & I took a trip to Goodwill to donate some of my useless shit. Then we traversed to the Court house to cast an early vote for John Kerry in an attempt to clean out some of the useless shit in the White House. Namely, George W. Bush. =) All in all, it was a fucking busy week.

Moving on up...North

And so began my journey to the "big city" where I, like the Jeffersons, would claim the sliver of pie that Fate had decided to doll out to me. With all of my goodbyes to my friends behind me (with the exception of my goodbye to Nikki...who failed to show up on Friday because she's horrible at goodbyes), my family & I departed Saint Albans, WV on October 16, 2004 in the wee hours of the morning, our course set for Baltimore, MD. We were a three vehicle caravan on I 79, all with walkie talkie's in hand. Cheryl, Mom, & Megan took the lead position in Mom's grey Corsica, Wayne & Dad drove the Budget truck, & I pulled up the rear in my rusty and mottled beauty of an automobile. As the sun rose and light flooded through the windows of my tightly packed car, I fished around in my bag for the cards Crystal & Tricia and Steve had given me. I read Crystal & Tricia's first (while also driving), tears dropping down my cheeks at their sweet words and wishes for happiness. I appreciated them very much in that moment and felt blessed to have such sweet friends in my life. =) And then I read Steve's card. Per his request I won't go into detail here concerning what he wrote, however, I must say that it was the most eloquently written, honest, and moving things anyone has ever written me and it touched me to the core. I cried so hard and felt so lucky, appreciated, and loved in that moment. Thank you, Steve. Your words meant the world to me. They also made it very hard for me to see to drive. =)

And so the Garris caravan flowed up I 79 to Aurora, WV, the beautiful farm where my sister-in-law grew up. We stopped there to pick up a lovely china cabinet that her father had made for her brother, Raymond. We picked it up and, to my surprise, added another car to the caravan. We followed Cheryl's father down some country roads and wound up on I 68 just past Cumberland, MD. We then followed I 68 to I 70 and made our way to Columbia, MD, to Raymond's apartment. We dropped off the cabinet and, again to my surprise, Raymond & his parents decided to follow us over to my new apartment to help us unload the truck. It was very sweet of them and I'm very appreciative of their help. I still owe Raymond like a weeks worth of dinner for his hard work. =)

We got to I 70 and ran into what threatened to be a torrential rain storm just as we hit 695, the infamous Beltway. Through traffic and weather, the Garris-Cummings caravan made it to my new apartment complex in Nottingham, MD. After chowing down on pizza and indulging in some chit-chat, all of us except for the grandmas and little Meg began unloading my possessions into my new apartment. We started at about 6:30 or 7:00 pm and finished at about 9:30. All sweaty and tired, we then took a break to catch our breath, swill Coke or Diet Sprite, or do damage to our lungs via cigarette smoke inhalation. Rose had not had the opportunity to pack so at about 10:00 pm we began loading the large items from Rose's home & packing up some of the small things. I was so exhausted from my week of packing, rushing around to say goodbye to everyone, the drive, and all of my physical exertions that evening, that I simply collapsed around midnight. I knew I needed to go to bed when Wayne was asking me what I wanted to do with my entertainment center and I told him dryly to "Burn it, for all I care." He responded with a perfectly timed, "Set it on fire, mama!" which lightened my grouchy mood and made me a little hysterical. Shortly after that I crawled up on the floor with a blanket and a pillow. Meg was still playing loudly in the living room and walking on me a bit and everyone else was rearranging boxes and furniture, but it didn't matter. Nothing could've kept me awake.

The next morning we finished moving Rosie's possessions to our new place, dropped off Granny's old couch at the Salvation Army, dropped off the Budget truck, & then came back to gape at the mountain of randomly placed furniture, boxes, bags, & plastic containers. Rose & I made sandwiches for everyone and spent a little bit of time visiting with the family. Megan told me, "I'm donna miss you, Ant Twiss" with her little blonde head tilted down, blue eyes looking up at me sadly, fingers twisted together in front of her, and her little Care Bear sneakered left foot making little circles on the carpet. I said, "I'm gonna miss you too, baby" as my eyes got wet and my face felt suddenly warm. Shortly after that it came time for them to leave and I hugged and kissed my Mom & Dad goodbye, hugged & kissed my little munchkin goodbye, hugged Cheryl, felt my chest tighten and the lump rise in my throat, and then hugged my brother. With that the tears streaked down my cheeks and I had to whisper my goodbye to him in order to keep my voice from breaking with sobs.

Rose & I lead the family out to the closest gas station, let them gas up, and then bid them farewell through the car windows. I indulged in a few tears as Rose and I drove to rent a carpet cleaner. I'm indulging in a few tears now as I type this. God, I love them so much! I'm so lucky! And I'm so thankful for them! Okay. Well that's the first time I've "leaked", as Eric used to say, since I've been here. Probably because I've been too busy to really think about it.

Rose and I cleaned up her apartment that night and then met Craig out for dinner at Bertucci's, a local italian chain. We were so exhausted! If he hadn't come along, I'm sure we would've fallen asleep in our pasta. =) That was Sunday night, I think. I started my new job at Good Shepherd Center the next day, spent a week training in a classroom and spent last week training / shadowing on the residential unit, while also coming home every evening and attempting to put order to the chaos that has been mine & Rosie's apartment. Today marks the start of my second week and the apartment is mostly organized. Mostly. So yeah, I've been so friggin' busy trying to get settled in. I'm so tired! But it'll get better once everything is in it's place.

Bo Peep & her sheep

So let me tell you about my job. I now am employeed as a residential leader / counselor at GSC here in Baltimore. GSC is a residential or inpatient treatment facility for emotionally disturbed and behavior disordered teenage girls, between the ages of 12 & 18. The first Center in Maryland was founded by the Sister's of the Good Shepherd in 1864. The location I currently work at was founded in 1970.

And in case you missed it...yup...that's right! I work for nuns! Catholic ones! =) However, even though the Sisters still have much say over how the center is run, the Center is not a religious organization. Catholicism is not spoon-fed to the girls and there is no ruler whacking. =) The Sisters are very tolerant and very well educated and cultured.

Anyway, the Sisters of the Good Shepherd were founded by St. Mary Euphrasia Pelletier (1796-1868) who founded 110 houses for girls & women. Today, there are aout 450 centers total spread throughout the world. So if I want to put in for a transfer to another center I have 35 US cities and 72 locations in other countries from which to choose. Not too shabby. =)

The Center has a chapel, two convents, and a nursing home on-site in addition to the high school the girls attend, eight residential units, and tons of administrative, maintenance, and housekeeping offices. One convent houses a group of Contemplative Sisters whose main purpose is to pray for all of the Centers and their employees throughout the world. I learned on my third day in training that each employee is assigned to a Contemplative Sister for prayer. So I have a nun who prays for me every day. Pretty neat, eh?

As I just stated, there are eight residential units. I'm assigned to one which is a "secure" or "lock down" unit for girls with a Dx of ODD / Conduct Disorder. As a residential leader / counselor it's my job to supervise the girls in their daily routines of waking, breakfast, lunch, dinner, homework, chores, & activities. I supervise them, keep them on task, and correct any negative behaviors. I am one of the "care givers" in their home environment while they're at the Center. I think maybe "task master" is more appropriate than "care giver". =) I'm also assigned three girls with who I will do individual counseling at least once per week. Of course, I'm also available to the other girls on the unit for counseling as needed.

It certainly an interesting environment. All of the staff are very friendly, helpful, and most importantly, are very professional. The residents are of a higher accuity than the ones I've worked with in the past, with verbal altercations escalating into physical on a daily basis. Today at work I witnessed about five teenage girls cursing out staff and screaming at the top of their lungs in rage. Friday was lovely though as I had the priviledge of witnessing first hand as a girl smashing two chairs and a bookcase in a fit of anger. =) Excitement!!!

One thing I found very interesting is that the majority of the residents seem to be bisexual and are "dating" other residents. Well...as much as they can in a locked facility where the staff monitors them very vigilantly. It's so odd for me to see 14, 15, 16 year old girls with crushes on each other. But it makes sense. They're all at that age when they're craving intimacy and their hormones are raging. If no boys are around, well they simply find a substitute. =)

So far I like the job, although it has been somewhat intimidating at moments. I like the girls, I like the staff, and I like the goal of the organization as a whole. The mission statement is simply this: "Love In Action". Love in Action means that you show love, caring, and compassion through teaching the girls positive behaviors and correcting the negative behaviors in positive ways. It means being the disciplinarian, as well as being supportive. It's finally nice to work at a facility that has the girl's best interests at heart. It's nice to be somewhere where money and billing isn't the only concern. =) Yeah...I think I'm going to like it here.

Killing off my Demons

Thus far Baltimore has offered me many things: a new job, a more exciting, culturally diverse environment, a new home, new friends, reconciliation with an old one, and a chance to kill off an old demon.

As my loved ones know, I've been carrying around a lot of guilt and regret for a very long time due to past infidelities. My guilt and regret was linked to two "demons" in particular. One of these was named Chris. He was the blue-eyed demon with the creepy grin that would hide in the back closets of my mind. Although I didn't always see him, he was always whispering that I should be so ashamed. And I was. I got tired of his constant gnawing at my self-esteem, so I opened up the closets and shooed him out into the sunlight. After time, apologies, reestablished communication, and the renewal of friendships, his demon status was revoked. And such a weight lifted from me then. I didn't feel quite so guilty anymore. I was able to forgive myself a bit because I had been able to facilitate the mending of what was broken.

I had another demon named Craig. He was a tricksy little towheaded creature with a playful grin who would come knocking at my windows from time to time. My house would be relatively peaceful, (except of course for the whispering of the blue-eyed devil in the closet) and he'd come clattering at the windows, causing me to throw open the shutters and peer outside. He would then jump out, scream in my face, and then vanish for a few months.

And so it was still in October of last year when Crystal told me that she had invited him to her Halloween party. It was a scream in the face. It was regret, guilt, and fear churning my insides. And so I left the her 2003 Halloween bash early so that I could 1) meet Steve for the Halloween Hootenanny & 2) could avoid running into Craig.

Crystal & I started hanging out more in June of this year. The more I was with her, the more we shared of our lives and friendships, and I was more often confronted with my flaxen-haired demon. Again, I grew tired of feeling guilty and shamed every time his name was mentioned and I decided to seek some sort of reconciliation so that I could lay my negative feelings to rest.

I obtained his email address from Crystal in September and wrote a very honest, direct, and sincere apology. I didn't really expect more than a brief "thanks, take care" in response, but what I received was a very kind and gracious acceptance and counter-apology. And so we began an email dialogue. I learned that he was working as an oceanographer in the Baltimore/DC area. We discussed his regret over the loss of friendships and contact with Ken, Ben, Chris & others. He discussed his anger over being left in North Carolina and how his father and brother had to drive down to get him. He inquired after the well-being of everyone and reminisced a bit. He expressed concern over the possible backlash I might experience from my friends resulting from my renewed communication with him. I assured him that I believed my friends to be some of the most open, intelligent, and forgiving people that I know based on my past experience with them, and that I didn't expect any negativity from that corner. We discussed many things: shoes, ceiling wax, carpenters, & kings. =) And this is how it came to pass that Craig Martin and I renewed our friendship and how I slayed my last demon.

Epilogue

An so I said goodbye, closing a chapter in the book of my life, and opening a new one. I'm in a new and exciting place bursting with opportunity and possibility. I have new sheep to tend. I've relieved myself of my last very icky gremlin. And I'm thinking that moving here is probably the best choice I've made in a long time. It feels right. And I am content.

My vagina is like a retarded drooling baby...

Renaissance Festival 2004

As many correctly guessed, I was completely...well...um...WASTED while writing my last post. =) And wasted I remained until 4:00am ish when I dropped off to sleep in Chris's floor. But that's the end of the story! Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Nora, Michelle, & I drove up to Columbus on Friday, Oct. 8th followed by Kevin, his "wife", Debbie, Crystal, & Trish. We met up with Ken, Leslie, Shawn, & Chris at the Bald Man & Psychopath's new apartment. Chris made a few drinks for everyone, told the story of "The Magic Juice, the Towers, & the Dark Citadel" or, as I like to call it, "The Tale of Three Drunken Fools". We then retired to beds, chairs, couch, & carpet for a mediocre night's sleep.

Saturday we drove to Harveysburg, OH to the one and only fabulous Ohio Renaissance Festival!!!! Huzzah!!!! We arrived around 11:00 am and immediately made our way to the first beer garden for the first beer of the day! We then made our way to see the fearless Daniel, Duke of Danger who was an acrobat of sorts, performing death defying feats while also delivering a comedic monologue with impeccable timing. =) Although Daniel, Duke of Danger was quite funny, he seemed also quite fearful, commenting several times that he hoped he didn't die or squish anyone if he fell. Luckily, he didn't. (It seems that I took the most pictures of his act as it was the only one during which I was sober.)

The Duke of Danger awed us by balancing himself on a ladder, while spinning rings on his arms with a plate spinning on a stick held in his teeth. He further wowed us by balancing on a teetering board placed atop crisscrossed metal pipes. For this feat of daring he called upon the assistance of our own Mr. Berry. Daniel was a 40 something balding man & said that he chose Shawn because he "saw his future shining" at him every time he looked at Shawn's head! Ouch! Instead of shoving the Duke off stage onto the heads of our fellow patrons, as may have been his first impulse, Shawn rose to the occassion. He kept the entertainer from killing having a sudden collision with the ground, and possibly smashing his skull in, and thereby kept the children in attendance from being irrevocably scarred. I was quite proud, really.

After that we made our way to the privies to relieve ourselves & then to Queen's Pub for more of the Queen's finest ale! We attended the Mudde Show and saw Dante's Inferno...again...at my urging. I promise those of you who will attend next year, we will see the Viking Show or nothing else at the Theatre in the Ground! No more Dante's Inferno! Well...maybe the year after. I want to be Beatrice once, after all, so I can surprise the hell out of them and jump in the mud pitt!!

Once the Mudde Show had ended, we were getting tipsy. Well...some of us were. Ken was just getting wet. I accidentally knocked his beer all over him and Leslie during the Mudde Show and someone else knocked another out of his hands later. I think he wore about the same amount of beer as he drank during our time at Ren Fest. I'm sorry Ken, you poor loveable bastard, you!

So some of us slightly intoxicated, we decided that it was a good idea to start throwing sharp metal things at targets! The sober people didn't try to stop us. The boys tried their hand at flinging dulled throwing stars at wooden targets and then us girls gave it a whirl. As I recall the women seemed to do much better than the men, Crystal putting everyone to shame by actually hitting a target dead on! We then wandered along, browsing the merchant's wares. The girls stopped to try on leather bodices that squished their boobies together in a flattering manner and posed for a photo, as has become tradition. We then headed down the path to grab some steak on a stake, turkey legs, & other not-so-medieval foods like, ice cream.

After eating we watched Stewartsky the Juggler juggle his rubber chicken, a basketball (at my request), a sickel, an axe, & Leslie's favorite, FIRE!!!!!!!! We didn't heckle him so much this year as their were 8 year old kids in the audience doing it for us...and we were actually getting pretty annoyed at them. So was Stewarsky. He told one kid to shut up or leave! Damn skippy!

Once the Juggler had juggled with all of his might, I requested that we stop and listen to the Minstrels of Mayhem, has I had always wanted to watch the musicians perform & participate in the Pub Sing. Nora & I got a fairly decent seat while all of the rest remained in the back. Most of our group really couldn't hear all that well, so they lost interest & wandered off to do their own thing for an hour before meeting up again at the front gate. Nora & I chose to stay and listen to the Minstrels and other players in the makeshift outdoor inn common room. We drank, we sang, we swung our cups from side to side, & learned several fun little traditional Pub Sing songs as well as a few that had been originally composed by the entertainers.

"Oh dear! What can the matter be?
Seven old ladies stuck in the lavatory!?!?
nobody knew they were there!!"
*************************************************
"Mary Mac's father's making Mary Mac marry me
My father's making me marry Mary Mac
I gotta marry Mary if I want her to take care of me
We'll all be making merry when I marry Mary Mac!"
*************************************************
" Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again!!
If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten!!
I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnny Jump Up"
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Once the Sing was over, I wandered up and began looking through the CDs the performers had available, and was approached by the most beautiful man. He had shoulder length brown hair, a nicely trimmed beard and mustache, warm brown eyes, an inviting smile, & very touchable-looking skin. Not to mention he had a fine guitar. He introduced himself as Rodger. My intoxicated mind could not retain that information. All I could note was that he was very attractive & looked a lot like the European renderings of Jesus. And so I mentally referred to him as Jesus. And at that moment I wanted to fuck the hell out of Jesus. Not our Lord and Saviour, the Rose of Sharon, the Rock of Ages Jesus, mind you, but Renaissance Festival, hottie, farm hand, college student, 19 year-old Jesus. (With this information, hopefully my last post will make more sense...and those of you who are religious can stop praying so hard for me.)

As I said, we talked for a while. He let me play his guitar. Or attempt to at least. I was so far intoxicated that I could only recall how to make a C chord. And my mind was further boggled by the fact that he had a 12-string guitar. I repeatedly announced to the amusement of all that I was WASTED!! He gave me a little leaf pin, admired my "I fuck on the first date." t-shirt, & when asked if his girlfriend would get jealous of his flirtatious behavior, stated, "Well, she's at the front gate and doesn't need to know." I looked at my watch and realized that it was 10 minutes past the appointed meeting time, said farewell with a kiss, & bolted, with Nora in tow, across the village green, across the little bridge over the little creek, past shops & shopkeepers, to the front gate. =) We were agonizingly out of breath when we met up with the crew. I talked about Jesus the whole car ride back to Shawn and Chris' & for a good portion of the evening.

Upon returning to the apartment we stuffed our faces with sandwhiches and resumed, and for those sober folks, began consuming alcohol. We played poker & Indian poker, Chris drew a "tatoo" of an evil TOOL-ish looking eyeball with a gaping mouth connected to it on the back of my neck. Shawn drew all sorts of wacky shit all over Crystal's legs, including an image of a smiling man...Jesus perhaps?...holding a fish taco & another image of a man with a large, deformed, dangling penis hanging between his legs. Lovely artistry, Shawn. Lovely.

I passed out at about 4:00 am in Chris' bedroom floor & awoke again at 5:00 am to exercise my two way esophageal valve and empty the contents of my stomach into his toilet. The next morning I felt fine except for a slight headache (which Excedrin cured nicely) but I was somewhat baffled at why I had thrown up. And then I thought about it. I had started drinking at 11:30 am on Saturday morning, drank at the rate of one beer per hour until 6:00 pm, took an hour off for the car ride home, and then commenced my rate of alcohol consumption until about 2:30 am. Yeah. 14 hours or so of drinking will probably make just about anyone sick, I would imagine. =)

We all went to Big Boy for breakfast on Sunday, I ended up leading a crew of people over to visit Barb so that I could see her, as I've been promising to do for months, before I actually moved to Maryland and could no longer easily keep my promise. =) Then Nora, Michelle, & I said our goodbyes and headed back to WV.

My goodbyes with Shawn & Chris were quite difficult this time as I knew it could possibly be a long while before I see either of them again, given their hatred of sunlight, people, travel, & mainly their hatred of me and all that I stand for. =) Seriously, it was difficult. I got a little knot in my chest when I hugged Chris and I wanted to cry when I hugged Shawn that last time. Ken & Leslie snuck off on me...and I'm sort of glad. That would've been hard too even though I'm used to them being far away.

The whole weekend long I had a wonderful time enjoying the fantastic, quirky personalities of all of my much loved friends. Because I knew that I would not be seeing you for, perhaps, a long while, I was more aware than normally of how much I love and appreciate each of you. And I realized how keenly I was going to miss you!!! I grew a bit meloncholy at moments on Saturday & Sunday, thinking that perhaps I didn't want to move afterall. It made my heart ache a little with awareness of the blessings I have been given...the blessing that each friend is to me. I love you guys! Thank you.

A song Nora & I heard at the Pub Sing seemed to fit my thoughts and feelings and the purpose of the weekend for me. And so I quote it for you now, a dedication to my wonderful friend family! I love you!

Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

Our ship lies at harbor, she's ready to dock
I hope she's safe landed without any shock
If ever we should meet again by land or by sea
I will always remember your kindness to me

So here's a health to the company and one to my lass
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
For we may and might never all meet here again

I've just returned from the Renaissance Festival with Chris, Shawn, Ken, Leslie, Nora, Michelle, Crystal, Trish, Kevin, & Debbie. It was fucking awesome!!!!

And I'm WASTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to fuck Jesus!!!!!

Well...there was this guy there. His name is Roger. He was in the Minstrels of Mayhem. Nora & I sat and watched the musicians towards the end of the evening. It felt like we were in a real inn common room!!!! And Jesus, as I like to call him, was one of the musicians.

Anyway...he's 19...and he looks like Jesus...but he's fucking hot as hell...and I'd fuck his brains out if I could. But I'm just a washed up 26 year old cunt. =)

I learned a new song! Mary Mack's father's making Mary marry me! My father's making me marry Mary Mack! I gotta marry Mary if I want her to take care of me! We'll all be making merry when I marry Mary Mack!!!!! =)

I'm WASTED!!!!!! Hip, hip, HUZZAH!!!! Hip, hip, HUZZAH!!!!!!

Little Miss Meg: Director & Tissue Fiend

I'm so going to miss my Megan when I leave!!!!!!

I hung out with Wayne, Cheryl, & Meg last night. It was so very warm, fuzzy, & wonderful. I played Care Bears with Meg, which entailed me acting like all of the "mommy Care Bears" who were picking up their little baby Care Bears from daycare. =) The fun thing about playing with Meg is that she scripts the whole thing for you...you don't have to be creative at all! She tells you exactly what she wants the Care Bear you're "controlling" to say back to her or the toy she's manipulating. It goes something like this:

Meg in the voice of little Grumpy Bear: Where's my mommy? I don't have a mommy!!!! Waaaaa! Will you take me home with you Fwiend Bear?

Director Meg: Now, Ant Twiss, I want you to say, "Of tourse Dumpy Bear! You tan be part of our famiwy now! You're in the Fwiend Bear famiwy!"

She's terribly cute and very imaginative in her play. She's also been a bit disturbing lately as she's been preoccupied with the idea of death. All of her "horsies mommy's died and they got very sad" a few days ago. She's struggling to understand the concept of death and I think this is her way of exploring it & the proper emotive & social responses. It's quite fascinating, really, but hard to deal with as an aunt. I don't want to ruin her safe little world, but I don't want to lie to her about important concepts like death. I told her when people die they go to be with God. "Way up in the sky?", she asked. "Yup.", I said, "Way up in the sky way beyong the stars." She said, "Yup." =)

She asked me a week or so ago, "What is me going to be like when me's grows up?" I told her she was going to be a beautiful, sweet, intelligent woman. I told her that she could be anything she wanted to be if she worked hard enough and wanted it badly enough. I remember somebody telling me that a long, long time ago. =) It's a nice feeling to be able to pass that along. She then told me that she was going to be a doctor who takes care of old people so she could take care of daddy when he's sick.

Yesterday she said the Pledge of Allegiance for me again. She learned it last week in pre-school and I love to hear her say it:

I pwedge awegiance to the fag
of de United States of 'Merica
and to de wepubwic for which it stands
one nation, under Dod, indibisible
with wiberty and justic for awl. Amen.

During dinner yesterday she asked me if I was comfortable in my chair. I told her I was and asked her if she was comfortable in hers. She replied, "It's a stoowl, actuawy, Ant Twiss." What three year old uses "actually" in a complete sentence? =) Probably several but I'm just biased and inclined to think that my particular favorite three year old is the best and the smartest.

Another thing that cracked me up yesterday was her obsession with tissues. Some kids have security blankets. Meg has tissues. For whatever reason she is comforted by holding a tissue or having one rubbed against her face. When she's sick, when she's tired, when she's scared, and sometimes for no reason she holds a tissue. Yesterday she showed me her "brand new tissue boxes", of which she was terribly proud. She said that she would like tissues for Christmas. Wayne told her she had to "get off of the tissues" and she said, "But I'm not on the tissues, Daddy!", and sweetly pointed to the tissue box beside of her. =)

It's Saturday and now you've got the fever...

I've had a lovely weekend. My Nora, Crystal, & I went to the Sound Factory on Saturday night to see Guinness Clarke's Wine & Eight Days Gone and had a hell of a time. GCW played a hell of a show, as usual. Eight Days gave a great performance as well in spite of the short length of their set.

Before the show started, I coaxed the girls upstairs to sit, chat, and play a game of 1913. I knocked back two beers before Nora or Crystal could finish their first. I'm not certain whether to be proud or ashamed. =) At any rate, I was feeling quite warm when the music started. There was much bobbing of the head and tapping of the foot during GCW's set. When Eight Days played I made sure to clap and cheer after every song with energy so that they would feel appreciated, as the crowd had dwindled a bit. I was the only one cheering at moments. Steve commented that I was "that girl", meaning the girl who maybe gets a little overserved and becomes a little overzealous in applauding the bands. It was bound to happen eventually. =)

It was an early evening, as far as watching bands go, because Nora & I made it back to my apartment by 2:00AM. We chatted for about an hour and she said goodnight. I then popped in on my neighbors, Matt & Josh. They had a few friends over and were having a PS2 Madden competition. So I drank a few beers and joined in on the cheering for pixelated football players and general trashtalking and bullshitting. After politely declining to smoke up with them, I excused myself and retired to my wonderful bed at 5:00AM.

A Regular Day

I was awoken by the ringing of the telephone at noon this morning. It was Steve inviting me to brunch at Cracker Barrel. I accepted & rolled my lazy ass out of bed to clean up a bit. I drove over to his apartment on the West side, grooving to GCW and enjoying the very blue of the blue, blue sky.

I posted a picture of today's sky on my photo journal. I always loved September and October skies the best. November has much beauty to offer as well. I think it's just this time of year when the crisp is sneaking it's way back into the air. The blue seems more vibrant, especially against the contrast of the blazing orange, red, and yellow tress.

Anyway, we had a yummy brunch at the Crack Whore Barrel and then stopped in at the Patrick St. KMart on a whim because we passed a sign advertising a 50% off customer appreciation sale. Who could resist that? Especially when you don't have jack shit on the agenda and you're enjoying the company you're keeping.

We explored every corner of KMart today, ending up in hysterics in the Martha Stewart pillow aisle due to random observations gone absurd. Steve picked up some dry cat food for his kitty, Tweak, and I started wondering out loud when it was that we decided that cats had to eat only these bits of hard, pressed together stuff or cans of foul smelling meat. I went on to ponder why we can't just feed cats what they eat in the wild? Steve giggled at the notion of wild cats and I argued that wild cats do indeed exist. I was trying to express the idea that although cats are domesticated animals, many people just leave unwanted kittens in the woods and they learn to fend for themselves and become wild cats. Instead of articulating my argument as well as this I said something along the lines of, "Yes, cats are domesticated animals, however people just drop unwanted kittens off out in the woods and they...you know...go crazy."

As soon as I finished speaking, we looked at each other and just started dying laughing. Steve said, "I just have this mental image of a cat just freaking out all alone in the woods, attacking everything." I tried to say that my thought didn't come out right, but I was laughing so hard I couldn't even get that out, and the effort just made me laugh harder. I couldn't breath, Steve was crying, I was drooling, and neither one of us could do anything other than laugh and make squeaking noises. This went on for about three or four minutes and we scared a few people away from the pillow aisle. Good times.

After KMart we returned to Steve's to watch Super Size Me, an awesome documentary about a guy from Beckley, WV who went on a McDonald's diet for 30 days to see what would happen. It's a great film, very educational and entertaining and I suggest that everyone check it out...and stop eating fast food! The dude gained 30 lbs. in one month from three square meals of McDonald's food a day and his liver nearly gave out on him. It's very scary what the majority of Americans are doing to our bodies on a daily basis with fast food! All those jokes that I made about Wendy's, Pizza Hut, & Taco Bell clinging to my hips...and to think it's really true! =)

After the movie we had a nice talk about life, love, what we've learned from each other, etc. Steve told me that I was beautiful in every way ( which was a very nice thing to say) and that he regretted getting ambivalent with me and screwing things up. He talked about giving us another chance and I declined, stating that I'm not where I need to be for a relationship just yet. But we had a good talk. It's nice to know that I'm so appreciated and loved and that I will be so missed. I'll miss him too. I'm very proud of the positive changes he's made in his life in this past year. He credits me with a lot of it, but he's the one who took the initiative. I simply broke up with him and told him to stop being a dumbass and get his shit together! =) He's a good boy. I hope that he finally finds that happiness he's been long searching for & finds a good girl with who he can share it.

On my drive home I was reviewing the day. It was a really nice day. When Steve and I were in KMart it sort of felt like we were a couple again. I thought about that and about all that he had said and the question "should we try again?" ran through my head for a second. It was quickly followed by my thought, "No. If we were meant to be, it would've worked out. It wouldn't have been so hard." And then Crystal's voice rang through my head, "Christina, did you ever think that love isn't supposed to be as hard as it has been for you? That when you're in love, everything will just sort of fall into place? Everything will just fit?" It's kind of funny. You know, I guess it's been so long since I've thought of it that way. It's not what I'm used to. I'm used to the struggle...forcing my puzzle piece. But she's right. It shouldn't be that hard. And so I'll wait until I find someone whose edges slide right into place and fit with mine.

cool breeze under compromise
dreams of the western skies
through dark blue eyes
the consolation prize when I'm dead

dance me tonight
we'll call it love
If I could call you beautiful, I would

~ Dance Me by Eight Days Gone

Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition

On last Thursday, I accepted a position as a residential counselor at Good Shepherd Center, a residential treatment facility for emotionally disturbed adolescent females, in Baltimore, Maryland. They offered me about $10,000 more per year than I’m making now, so simply put, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. =) So it’s final and for real…I’m moving to Baltimore!

I think I should be excited right now, but the reality of it all hasn’t hit me yet. I’ve been sick this past week & I’ve been working insane days at Prestera, so I haven’t been able to really do anything to prepare for the move. Perhaps when I start packing it’ll become real for me. Perhaps after I’ve lived in Maryland for three months it’ll become real. Perhaps nothing will ever seem real again. Mmmmmwwwwhahahahaha! (This is why you shouldn’t write under the influence of illness & medication.)

I had to go to fill out some paperwork & get a drug test & physical this past Monday, so Mom, Dad, & I drove up on last Saturday morning. We had a lovely time just hanging out & being a family. On Monday I went to Good Shepherd to complete paperwork & then got my physical & drug screen done (poor Rosie waited in the car for several hours that day). During our excursion that morning, Rose & I spotted a camouflage Ford Truck with the following message scrawled on the tailgate in white paint: “Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition”. Well yippee ki yay & Halle-fucking-lujah! I guess there are rednecks in Maryland too.

Slaphappy hormones & the Fruit Peddler

Anyway, after I had been poked, prodded, & pissed by the doctor & other medical staff, I grabbed Mom & Dad, & headed back to West Virginia. I was so terribly tired on the way home, so the folks were challenged with the task of keeping me awake. They did quite nicely, making me laugh at their antics a good portion of the way home & causing me to reminisce about my childhood. Dad kept asking Mom how her hormones & membranes were doing & absurd conversation abounded. Mom reported that her hormones had only flared up thrice in her life and that they were doing very well now, one working as a computer analyst, one as a counselor, and one in insurance claims. =) Mom offered Dad some Funyuns at one point and he asked her, “Some whats? How do you spell that?” Which is funny due to the fact that Dad can’t read or spell. Mom then proceeded to attempt to spell it, “F-U-I-O-N-S”, which struck me as particularly funny & I started laughing hysterically and saying “Fuions” over and over again. Yeah…so we were a little slaphappy. You try riding in a car for 6 ½ hours with nothing to look at and see what happens to you!

We also talked about my old church and some of the people with whom we used to go to church & how they were doing now. I remembered how warm, loving, and open everyone seemed in that church when I was a child. It was like one big extended family and I always felt safe there. There were so many good people. So much kindness. It was so full of love and life then, nothing like the cold, judgmental place it became.

One person in particular stuck out in my mind and I asked after him. His name is Lawrence Stoots. Lawrence Stoots is an elderly gentleman who used to run a little country produce store about five miles away from my former home in Eccles. Every week, I think it was on Fridays, Lawrence would load up his big blue van full of fresh fruits and vegetables, some of which he grew himself, and would drive the van around showing and selling his wares. From the time I was about five years old until I was ten, every week I looked forward to his visit. He’d pull up and park next to my grandmother's gate and I’d run down to give the friendly, smiling, gray-haired 60 something gentleman a hug, and then hop up into the van to look around. Granny would come out on her porch and Mom would come up from the trailer. The adults would chat a bit about kids, the weather, the church, and life while I ogled the fruits & veggies. During this time, Lawrence would give me a banana or a plum or something for free. Sometimes he had candy for me and would tell me to be careful eating it. When Mom & Gran had decided what they wanted, they would shout out their order, “a bunch of bananas, about five Washington apples, a bag of oranges, a couple of green peppers, a couple onions, about five plums, some grapes, etc.” and I would scurry around in the van, putting things in the little paper bags Lawrence would provide. Once everything was bagged, he’d let me weigh each bag and tell him the weight. He’d then figure out how much they owed him. I so enjoyed being his little helper. I so enjoyed scurrying around in the back of that wonderfully fragrant van. I appreciate Lawrence Stoots for being so kind to me and being a good memory from my childhood. He is a good man. I wonder if he knows that I loved the way he always smelled like chewing gum, aftershave, and fruit? He's in his late 80's now & not in good health. I haven't seen him for at least seven years. Maybe I should tell the Fruit Peddler what a lovely memory he is for me, before he is only that.

Sunset

The sun was setting behind the hills at Sunset Memorial Park in Beckley, WV when I passed through the open iron gates into the cemetery.

I went to visit my grandmother & grandfather. They weren't there. But their graves were.

I never knew my grandfather, except for in stories. But my grandmother was my pal. I was her "little piss-ant". There was love in her voice every time she told me I was going to hell. =) She was quite a spitfire...a spitefire. =) Very opinionated, very formidable, vey strong. My mother tells me that I act & look just like her. It's a very lovely compliment. =)

I guided my car slowley down the narrow paths until I found the tree that serves as a landmark for me to find the final resting place of my most dearly departed. I got out of the car & glanced anxiously at the horizon. I did not want to be there after dark.

I sat down beside my grandmother and began to talk. I told her about my life now. About finishing college & splitting with Ben. About Megan & being an aunt. About Baltimore and the job. I asked her to help me figure it out. My chest began to ache and I missed her terribly. And I cried & cried & cried. I wanted to hug her. To smell baby powder, Jergens lotion, & juicy fruit again. And to feel her soft, plump, wrinkled arms around me. I laid down, above and beside her, on the cold damp mossy earth and cried & cried & cried.

After a time, my tears stopped. The sun had sunk a little farther and it was getting dark. I lay on my side, staring at her name on the bronze plaque for a few moments. I couldn't hear anything other than the sound of my breathing and the steady, rhythmic chirp of the crickets. It was so calm. So peaceful. And my soul was stilled.

Suddenly I realized that this was the calm that was waiting for me after I weathered my storm. It doesn't matter what I choose. No decision can be wrong. For in the end, our bodies and our lives are gone. Every beginning has an ending. And eventually we all end up sleeping peaceful & ever gazing up at the wonders of heaven.

In that moment, in that calm, I knew that I'd be alright. And in that moment I chose to move to Baltimore, Maryland.