my heart has become more content.
i think that sometimes writing things out and seeing them on a page makes them come to life - what is true, what is childish, what is unimportant, what is worth noticing. all these things are hidden and we must draw them out.
today, i showed up for an appointment which i forgot was cancelled. so, with an extra two hours on my hands, i studied, i drank good coffee instead of the mediocre kind i usually get, i savored getting to class early and i stopped inside the on campus bookstore just to browse. of course, the one book which truly caught my attention is called "this is not a book".
"this is not a book" is a do it yourself journal, but each page is an experiment or adventure of sorts, not simply a random question and response. i liked it SO much, i almost bought four: one for me, the others for my sisters and mom. then i thought, why can't i do this on my own? write what i want, make challenges for myself and be creative - without paying $12.95.
when i got home, i looked up the author's blog and on it, i found a quote -
"today will never happen again."
my whole life i have heard this saying in so many different words, numerous languages, infinite translations - but the same context applies.
today is it and when the clock strikes 12, it is gone. there is no re-doing, re-thinking, re-making dinner, re-anything.
i love this saying because it is definite and also hopeful.
today will never happen again - so DO something. make something. be in the moment.
to me, this means make a commitment to living. a commitment to the time we have.
after reading that, so many things have stepped into the light, today.
i spent time reading peter brook and loving his words.
i organized my calendar. highlighed. underlined. made open, happy days.
i admired my boyfriend's work.
(sidenote: one of the many reasons i love this man is that now i want to stop when i look at art. really stop and breathe it in, no matter how ridiculous or strange.)
i went to the grocery store and bought beautiful strawberries.
i rented my favorite movie which i do not admit to people.
i made dinner for myself and not something easy.
i took time to simmer the apples and mushrooms, grill the salmon, make a presentation of my food.
and now, it's 8:20.
and i have not wasted or thrown away a moment.
"live each day"
"make it count"
"do what you want"
"live freely"
"live today like it's your last"
"just be"
a small sample of quotes which relish the now, the present, the here.
but living each day like it's your last and just "being" - it's a contradiction.
making it "count" and living freely - to live free is to have no reason to live now or for the future.
all i can say is this:
when we wake up in the morning, we make a decision: to greet the day or to use it only to get to the next. from now on, i think i'll greet it.
goodnight moon.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
the heart beats, but for what?
two months and no new words. what a dispicable truth.
many new things to speak of and yet nothing to show from it.
new:
car
focus
boyfriend
jackets and shoes
exercise schedule... ughhh.
sleeping schedule... zzzz.
groceries
recipes
a cough
and yet -
old:
thinking patters coming to the surface, again.
when i started this blog i was trying to break free of something, old habits and rituals and harmful thoughts and ways of being. or not being. and now, i find myself in the midst of many relationships which i am constantly trying to improve which have nothing to do with improving myself. i spend SO MUCH TIME watching other people, allowing their influence to validate my opinions. and i can't do it anymore, it's fucking exhausting.
i hate to say it, but i'll admit: i'm back where i used to be.
except for one part, i recognize the street signs and landmarks.
(don't know if that makes it better or worse.)
this comes in waves. damn, i hate emotionality.
i've realized:
it's exhausting to be awake and wondering and looking and seeing all. the. time.
and it makes it a fuckload easier for me to understand why people watch television and get "hobbies" and eat nachos bel grande while they slurp mountain dew and play video games. i understand why people jog. i understand why people get dogs. i understand why people work 9-5 desk jobs. i understand why people fucking LOVE ikea and the home shopping network and 12 step plans and all of it.
because it makes things easy.
because they organize the chaos.
because their urges and fears and doubts and hopelessness comes to a brief end when they are surrounded by clarity.
i found clarity in God. i did.
and not just because the person i used to date loved God
or because i was at my wit's end (although i was)
but because i wanted to.
and now i am in a relationship with someone who kind of thinks it's a joke.
and i laugh. but i don't want to.
.
you know the one thing my mother tried to teach me was be independent and be who you are and don't accept anything else.
but i've realized it is perhaps that she made this so important to me, the pivotal truth of being alive, that i have always constantly sought an identity better than my own.
when identity is what we are made to understand, it is like showing a child the finishing line of a story and then asking them to analyze how the story got there. so, this kid is thinking "how the hell am i supposed to know because i never heard the story?"
each day, i analyze as a whole. each comment, color, taste, sound.
i almost pray something bad happens to me just to make the world seem colorful again. something to struggle for. something to fight for.
but then again, thinking about Job - i better not pray too hard.
.
all things together - i know the answer is simple, as it always is in the end.
why didn't i just get outside more?
or call that person?
or really really think about what i wanted?
or tell that person to kindly go screw themself?
or just do what i want?
listen to me whine.
whine whine whine whine whine.
i deserve an immaculate whooping.
damn, i miss when this world made sense.
many new things to speak of and yet nothing to show from it.
new:
car
focus
boyfriend
jackets and shoes
exercise schedule... ughhh.
sleeping schedule... zzzz.
groceries
recipes
a cough
and yet -
old:
thinking patters coming to the surface, again.
when i started this blog i was trying to break free of something, old habits and rituals and harmful thoughts and ways of being. or not being. and now, i find myself in the midst of many relationships which i am constantly trying to improve which have nothing to do with improving myself. i spend SO MUCH TIME watching other people, allowing their influence to validate my opinions. and i can't do it anymore, it's fucking exhausting.
i hate to say it, but i'll admit: i'm back where i used to be.
except for one part, i recognize the street signs and landmarks.
(don't know if that makes it better or worse.)
this comes in waves. damn, i hate emotionality.
i've realized:
it's exhausting to be awake and wondering and looking and seeing all. the. time.
and it makes it a fuckload easier for me to understand why people watch television and get "hobbies" and eat nachos bel grande while they slurp mountain dew and play video games. i understand why people jog. i understand why people get dogs. i understand why people work 9-5 desk jobs. i understand why people fucking LOVE ikea and the home shopping network and 12 step plans and all of it.
because it makes things easy.
because they organize the chaos.
because their urges and fears and doubts and hopelessness comes to a brief end when they are surrounded by clarity.
i found clarity in God. i did.
and not just because the person i used to date loved God
or because i was at my wit's end (although i was)
but because i wanted to.
and now i am in a relationship with someone who kind of thinks it's a joke.
and i laugh. but i don't want to.
.
you know the one thing my mother tried to teach me was be independent and be who you are and don't accept anything else.
but i've realized it is perhaps that she made this so important to me, the pivotal truth of being alive, that i have always constantly sought an identity better than my own.
when identity is what we are made to understand, it is like showing a child the finishing line of a story and then asking them to analyze how the story got there. so, this kid is thinking "how the hell am i supposed to know because i never heard the story?"
each day, i analyze as a whole. each comment, color, taste, sound.
i almost pray something bad happens to me just to make the world seem colorful again. something to struggle for. something to fight for.
but then again, thinking about Job - i better not pray too hard.
.
all things together - i know the answer is simple, as it always is in the end.
why didn't i just get outside more?
or call that person?
or really really think about what i wanted?
or tell that person to kindly go screw themself?
or just do what i want?
listen to me whine.
whine whine whine whine whine.
i deserve an immaculate whooping.
damn, i miss when this world made sense.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
nope. that's a pigeon, harold.
sometimes i think i put too much faith in people.
i can lift someone up so high, they think the stars are touchable.
i can comfort and elighten. i can trust and give tender care.
when i was a young girl, i had a best friend.
her name was alexis and we rode the bus, together.
her brother, alexis and i would play together and took turns pushing each other on the swings.
as a loner, i had very few friends. this made alexis very special to me.
then, one day, as we were riding home on the bus, alexis held my arms behind my back while her brother repeatedly punched me in the stomach.
i never really told anyone about that.
i couldn't even be mad, i didn't know what i had done.
i racked my brain for hours, trying to understand what i did.
the next day, i went to school, and alexis was gone.
her and her brother moved, disappeared.
i never saw them, again.
.
this person that i've written about on this blog, this man ...
he is a good man. he is capable of loving. he is someone i love.
yet, once again, i am clenching my stomach, curled up in a ball, trying to understand why people do the things they do.
in the case of alexis, she was a young girl who intentionally hurt me - maybe to see what it felt like, maybe because she did not understand what friendship is and how willingly i gave it.
in the case of the man, he is old enough to know; but it was not intentional.
sometimes, our feelings, our weaknesses, our pains manifest themselves as arrows, launched at the hearts of those who care about us the most because we know they can survive anything.
i am a survivor of many things.
i have survived deaths and births, heartache, various illness, divorce, marriage, car accidents, stitches, bike accidents, my teenage years, love, so many things.
but when we survive, we do so because it is the only option. a man in the sea, alone, must swim to survive or float to die. yet, in this case, i don't have to survive, i can just choose to understand and let the current move me to shore.
.
i will spare the details, but say this: it is so hard to have faith.
to wake up every day and try to believe in something or someone. to know that each moment of our lives may be adding up to some great plan. to give, willingly, to a stranger. to understand, without question, because we must and can not explain the miracle of another human being's life.
my days fill themselves, but i decide whether or not to enjoy their taste.
some might call this "psycho babble bullshit", a chain of meaningless statements which allow old women with cats to feel better about themselves, food for therapists. ... and i might agree.
but i don't care.
i am my mother's daughter.
my therapist who loves to collect sea glass and listens to enya of a mother's daughter. and i thank God that i am.
because then maybe i would never know how to have faith.
today, i read the bible for the first time in a very long time.
i read about Job and his struggles and how God answers him, practically railing at Job to explain the universe to him. and Job is, of course, speechless. and God says, pray and you will be forgiven. understand that you are just a man, one small man, and that your only importance lies in what path i lead you towards.
and Job prays and is forgiven and is blessed with bounty.
i am upset with God, sometimes. but then i remember i am but one woman in this large universe. and that i need only to remind myself that there is a path for me and every person i meet. and then, i feel more content.
whatever you believe - i hope faith is a big part of it.
faith in love, faith in your passion, faith in people.
and to my harold, i have faith that he will be happy. and we can someday be friends. but for now, i must understand that my happiness comes first.
goodnight, all.
i can lift someone up so high, they think the stars are touchable.
i can comfort and elighten. i can trust and give tender care.
when i was a young girl, i had a best friend.
her name was alexis and we rode the bus, together.
her brother, alexis and i would play together and took turns pushing each other on the swings.
as a loner, i had very few friends. this made alexis very special to me.
then, one day, as we were riding home on the bus, alexis held my arms behind my back while her brother repeatedly punched me in the stomach.
i never really told anyone about that.
i couldn't even be mad, i didn't know what i had done.
i racked my brain for hours, trying to understand what i did.
the next day, i went to school, and alexis was gone.
her and her brother moved, disappeared.
i never saw them, again.
.
this person that i've written about on this blog, this man ...
he is a good man. he is capable of loving. he is someone i love.
yet, once again, i am clenching my stomach, curled up in a ball, trying to understand why people do the things they do.
in the case of alexis, she was a young girl who intentionally hurt me - maybe to see what it felt like, maybe because she did not understand what friendship is and how willingly i gave it.
in the case of the man, he is old enough to know; but it was not intentional.
sometimes, our feelings, our weaknesses, our pains manifest themselves as arrows, launched at the hearts of those who care about us the most because we know they can survive anything.
i am a survivor of many things.
i have survived deaths and births, heartache, various illness, divorce, marriage, car accidents, stitches, bike accidents, my teenage years, love, so many things.
but when we survive, we do so because it is the only option. a man in the sea, alone, must swim to survive or float to die. yet, in this case, i don't have to survive, i can just choose to understand and let the current move me to shore.
.
i will spare the details, but say this: it is so hard to have faith.
to wake up every day and try to believe in something or someone. to know that each moment of our lives may be adding up to some great plan. to give, willingly, to a stranger. to understand, without question, because we must and can not explain the miracle of another human being's life.
my days fill themselves, but i decide whether or not to enjoy their taste.
some might call this "psycho babble bullshit", a chain of meaningless statements which allow old women with cats to feel better about themselves, food for therapists. ... and i might agree.
but i don't care.
i am my mother's daughter.
my therapist who loves to collect sea glass and listens to enya of a mother's daughter. and i thank God that i am.
because then maybe i would never know how to have faith.
today, i read the bible for the first time in a very long time.
i read about Job and his struggles and how God answers him, practically railing at Job to explain the universe to him. and Job is, of course, speechless. and God says, pray and you will be forgiven. understand that you are just a man, one small man, and that your only importance lies in what path i lead you towards.
and Job prays and is forgiven and is blessed with bounty.
i am upset with God, sometimes. but then i remember i am but one woman in this large universe. and that i need only to remind myself that there is a path for me and every person i meet. and then, i feel more content.
whatever you believe - i hope faith is a big part of it.
faith in love, faith in your passion, faith in people.
and to my harold, i have faith that he will be happy. and we can someday be friends. but for now, i must understand that my happiness comes first.
goodnight, all.
Monday, January 18, 2010
harold: not pigeons.
life is feeling pretty surreal, today.
spent the majority of this weekend with that certain person i happen to still kind of maybe definitely yes have a lot of crazy ticklish excited nervous lovely feelings for. saturday, i went to the ice carnival and i was feeling a little down and out, went grocery shopping, and when i came back he was waiting for me. later on, city diner conversations with too much coffee your eyes sting and you don't know whether you are exhausted or the most alive and awake you've ever been.
after a saturday night and a good part of a sunday and early monday morning, together ... i can say this:
day dreaming is lovely; but while you are dreaming, the actual day is slipping by. for so long, i day dreamt about what it would be like to see this person, spend time with him, laugh with him, smile with him and when we did, it was lovely. but also, i fought with myself when i looked at him, thinking "why is he upset? in my dream, he isn't like this." i was starting to let him slip by because i refused to acknowledge what he was upset about or why he was upset.
over the past 48 hours, i have been to four diners. and at each one, there is the hope that i will have the diner talk and sip coffee stronger than an ox and listen to background chatter. so, i would sit and wait with my coffee and company ... and then, of course, it eventally came to fruition when i was relaxed and content. but we all romanticize conversation, our lives, our lovers, our diners.
the important part is separating ourselves from the reality and the fantasy.
the fantasy of my relationship with this person is that he will be in a better place soon, and we continue to be friends, and then eventually we become something else, and things are good and patient and kind and loving.
the reality of my relationship with this person is that he is going through a really tough time and my friendship is the one thing that i can give him which will not sway and bend or break. so, i put on my big girl pants and remember to set aside my feelings for the importance of something greater than my heart's desires.
this weekend was supposed to be so productive.
so full of reading and writing and studying.
but instead, i spent it with really great people.
and i patched the torn bits of my quilt.
and i stretched it out over my friends who need its warmth,
just as much as i need them under it.
to make a fort, a safe place, a hiding place, a home.
not to survive, but to live.
after all, the most extravagant life when shared with no one
is comparable to a beautiful symphony left unplayed
and taken to the grave.
one last thing.
happy martin luther king jr day.
here's to future peace.
rachel
spent the majority of this weekend with that certain person i happen to still kind of maybe definitely yes have a lot of crazy ticklish excited nervous lovely feelings for. saturday, i went to the ice carnival and i was feeling a little down and out, went grocery shopping, and when i came back he was waiting for me. later on, city diner conversations with too much coffee your eyes sting and you don't know whether you are exhausted or the most alive and awake you've ever been.
after a saturday night and a good part of a sunday and early monday morning, together ... i can say this:
day dreaming is lovely; but while you are dreaming, the actual day is slipping by. for so long, i day dreamt about what it would be like to see this person, spend time with him, laugh with him, smile with him and when we did, it was lovely. but also, i fought with myself when i looked at him, thinking "why is he upset? in my dream, he isn't like this." i was starting to let him slip by because i refused to acknowledge what he was upset about or why he was upset.
over the past 48 hours, i have been to four diners. and at each one, there is the hope that i will have the diner talk and sip coffee stronger than an ox and listen to background chatter. so, i would sit and wait with my coffee and company ... and then, of course, it eventally came to fruition when i was relaxed and content. but we all romanticize conversation, our lives, our lovers, our diners.
the important part is separating ourselves from the reality and the fantasy.
the fantasy of my relationship with this person is that he will be in a better place soon, and we continue to be friends, and then eventually we become something else, and things are good and patient and kind and loving.
the reality of my relationship with this person is that he is going through a really tough time and my friendship is the one thing that i can give him which will not sway and bend or break. so, i put on my big girl pants and remember to set aside my feelings for the importance of something greater than my heart's desires.
this weekend was supposed to be so productive.
so full of reading and writing and studying.
but instead, i spent it with really great people.
and i patched the torn bits of my quilt.
and i stretched it out over my friends who need its warmth,
just as much as i need them under it.
to make a fort, a safe place, a hiding place, a home.
not to survive, but to live.
after all, the most extravagant life when shared with no one
is comparable to a beautiful symphony left unplayed
and taken to the grave.
one last thing.
happy martin luther king jr day.
here's to future peace.
rachel
Friday, January 15, 2010
and on the eighth day, God created chocolate and saw that it was good.
i just wrote a ridiculously long blog, and this page deleted it.
maybe this is a sign that i shouldn't write when intoxicated with anger and self pity. hmm.
basically what it said is that i am staying in today and listening to sad music and being sad and that is okay.
enough for now, enough.
huckleberry.
maybe this is a sign that i shouldn't write when intoxicated with anger and self pity. hmm.
basically what it said is that i am staying in today and listening to sad music and being sad and that is okay.
enough for now, enough.
huckleberry.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
masters of fine arts in international badassery, sigma cum laude.
bad ass: (as defined by urban dictionary)someone who is so cool that their very presence is radiating with awesomeness.
lily emerson, a dear soul, once told me that she and a friend were enrolling in a certain "Bad Ass University" or B.A.U. because they wanted to be bad asses. this needed explanation, as i was surely stunned and questioned the entire philosophy.
she explained that being a bad ass does not entail being strong or drinking whiskey, it did not necessarily include leather jackets, motorcycles, impressive cheek bones or quippy-ness. it did, however, involve being awesome, which is what lily and her friend aspired to be: role models of cool, so to speak.
they would achieve graduating from B.A.U. doings things like:
being proactive.
focusing on their passions.
creating great and healthy relationships.
treating their bodies with care.
maintaining a positive outlook on life.
treasuring their happiness.
these things made them badasses because these traits embodied a great way of living, for example: "You can make sushi? Badass!" or "You rode your bike 20 miles? Badass!" (Insert high five or synchronized dance)*
...
i share this story because i always dream big and do little. my brain may not know how to do calculus or do scientific notation; but it can imagine and create. so, i've been thinking, with all this time left in my hands after i graduate, all this time, all this time to pay my bills and student loans and date and get a job...
and then, oh my god.
this time is my life.
i realized, suddenly - it's not measured time; it is my life.
and what time do i think i have to waste?
i could slip on a puddle on the way to class and wake up in a hospital four years later to a nurse explaining that i've been in a coma. it always seems like a silly little idea until that silly little idea happens to you.
a friend once explained this to me:
1. take an apple in your hand. what is it? an apple.
2. take a bite. is it still an apple? yes.
3. eat half the apple. is it still an apple? yes.
4. now, eat the entire apple. is it still an apple? no.
i always believed this to be true, until realizing the following fact.
while 1-3 are right; 4 is wrong. the apple is still an apple; it's just inside you, this time.
...
as i look at my life, i see many past adventures. i loved to explore as a kid, to be out and finding new nooks & crannies. to make something new from something old. to believe in where my legs could take me that a car could not.
and now, i find myself staring adventure in the eye, once more.
(are you ready? it's all going to come together ...now.)
i want to be an international badass because i've taken a few bites of my apple and it's still an apple and even though it's my apple; that doesn't mean God can't take it away at any. single. moment.
but i don't want to travel just for me.
sighting fireflies outside my window and following them towards the lake and into the woods as far as i could go for my own joy is one thing; catching them and sharing their light to bring others joy is quite another.
i want to do things. help people. teach. share.
yes, it was lovely to sit on a bench in italy at seventeen and eat gelato.
but i want to give something back, this time.
i don't believe i can save the world with theatre or cookies.
but i do believe i can be a badass, in the best way.
school starts tomorrow.
goodnight, moon.
and thanks for the light.
lily emerson, a dear soul, once told me that she and a friend were enrolling in a certain "Bad Ass University" or B.A.U. because they wanted to be bad asses. this needed explanation, as i was surely stunned and questioned the entire philosophy.
she explained that being a bad ass does not entail being strong or drinking whiskey, it did not necessarily include leather jackets, motorcycles, impressive cheek bones or quippy-ness. it did, however, involve being awesome, which is what lily and her friend aspired to be: role models of cool, so to speak.
they would achieve graduating from B.A.U. doings things like:
being proactive.
focusing on their passions.
creating great and healthy relationships.
treating their bodies with care.
maintaining a positive outlook on life.
treasuring their happiness.
these things made them badasses because these traits embodied a great way of living, for example: "You can make sushi? Badass!" or "You rode your bike 20 miles? Badass!" (Insert high five or synchronized dance)*
...
i share this story because i always dream big and do little. my brain may not know how to do calculus or do scientific notation; but it can imagine and create. so, i've been thinking, with all this time left in my hands after i graduate, all this time, all this time to pay my bills and student loans and date and get a job...
and then, oh my god.
this time is my life.
i realized, suddenly - it's not measured time; it is my life.
and what time do i think i have to waste?
i could slip on a puddle on the way to class and wake up in a hospital four years later to a nurse explaining that i've been in a coma. it always seems like a silly little idea until that silly little idea happens to you.
a friend once explained this to me:
1. take an apple in your hand. what is it? an apple.
2. take a bite. is it still an apple? yes.
3. eat half the apple. is it still an apple? yes.
4. now, eat the entire apple. is it still an apple? no.
i always believed this to be true, until realizing the following fact.
while 1-3 are right; 4 is wrong. the apple is still an apple; it's just inside you, this time.
...
as i look at my life, i see many past adventures. i loved to explore as a kid, to be out and finding new nooks & crannies. to make something new from something old. to believe in where my legs could take me that a car could not.
and now, i find myself staring adventure in the eye, once more.
(are you ready? it's all going to come together ...now.)
i want to be an international badass because i've taken a few bites of my apple and it's still an apple and even though it's my apple; that doesn't mean God can't take it away at any. single. moment.
but i don't want to travel just for me.
sighting fireflies outside my window and following them towards the lake and into the woods as far as i could go for my own joy is one thing; catching them and sharing their light to bring others joy is quite another.
i want to do things. help people. teach. share.
yes, it was lovely to sit on a bench in italy at seventeen and eat gelato.
but i want to give something back, this time.
i don't believe i can save the world with theatre or cookies.
but i do believe i can be a badass, in the best way.
school starts tomorrow.
goodnight, moon.
and thanks for the light.
Friday, January 8, 2010
we're snowed in, let's make breakfast.
i woke up this morning with crazy, vibrant dreams in my mind.
i think i want to be a writer.
i watched a bad movie last night and didn't like it.
i don't understand why people want others to like what they do.
i never asked them to like rice pudding or decoupage.
i am celebrating my friend's 25th birthday, today.
i think 25 is a big deal. and so is sam, to me.
i bought a jacket yesterday with a huge hood, makes me feel beautiful.
i used to steal things, a lot.
i have now decided that everything i stole must be paid for or donated.
i am working towards that goal. it should take me another year or so.
i had no resolutions at new year, but it has given me resolutions.
i am still in love with someone.
i think i will love this someone for a long time, & hope they love me.
i believe in destiny. i believe in karma. i believe in magic.
i believe in poetry. i believe in friends. i believe in mothers and fathers.
i believe in using our hands to shape this world.
i believe in celebrating.
i believe in love.
and as much as i know that two people coming together again, better than the first time, is a silly, litte romantic idea. i have no other choice but to believe.
and hope.
happy birthday, sam.
twenty five years and in less than one, you changed my life.
friends like sam make the other days seem a little more worth celebrating.
and now, off to a snow day.
i think i want to be a writer.
i watched a bad movie last night and didn't like it.
i don't understand why people want others to like what they do.
i never asked them to like rice pudding or decoupage.
i am celebrating my friend's 25th birthday, today.
i think 25 is a big deal. and so is sam, to me.
i bought a jacket yesterday with a huge hood, makes me feel beautiful.
i used to steal things, a lot.
i have now decided that everything i stole must be paid for or donated.
i am working towards that goal. it should take me another year or so.
i had no resolutions at new year, but it has given me resolutions.
i am still in love with someone.
i think i will love this someone for a long time, & hope they love me.
i believe in destiny. i believe in karma. i believe in magic.
i believe in poetry. i believe in friends. i believe in mothers and fathers.
i believe in using our hands to shape this world.
i believe in celebrating.
i believe in love.
and as much as i know that two people coming together again, better than the first time, is a silly, litte romantic idea. i have no other choice but to believe.
and hope.
happy birthday, sam.
twenty five years and in less than one, you changed my life.
friends like sam make the other days seem a little more worth celebrating.
and now, off to a snow day.
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