The Past Five:
11.18.2010 * 10:30 a.m.
No more monkeys jumping on the bed...
Has it really been that long?
So much has happened since I last wrote here. So much has changed, yet not. I'm a mom now. I have a beautiful 9 month old daughter who crawls around and puts anything and everything in her mouth. She is the most adorable thing I have ever loved and I am grateful for every minute I share with her.
Otherwise, life is still life. I don't teach any more, but I plan to go back to it some day. I spend a lot of time in my house these days, but I don't mind it too much. I'm trying to stay happy and enjoy life.
I need a hobby. My Cowboy is always telling me that I don't do anything. He's kind of right. I don't want to have expensive hobbies like him, I'm too much of a penny pincher for that, but I need to find something that I can do for fun around here. Something that involves me creating something new. Scrapbooking? That's a possibility. Sewing? We don't have a sewing machine. Art? No. I need to start writing again. I need to pull out my old journals and find my poetry and put it together into a volume that makes me proud. I should start pouring my soul onto paper through the ink of a pen, but honestly, I'm lazy. When the kid takes a nap, I take a break and I usually find myself on the internet. Or cleaning. Or making baby food. *sigh*
I have recently gotten back into reading. My long lost love, books. It's a good thing, and miracle of miracles, I got Barry reading too, because I'm amazing like that.
I need to go make baby food before the bean wakes up from her nap. Hopefully I'll be here again soon...
07.18.2009 * 2:49 p.m.
is this goodbye? only sort of.
Oh Diaryland, my sweet, sweet Diaryland. I've cheated on you. I have to be honest, I've written entries on blogger. It's just so easy. I can post pictures for free, no need to pay for a gold membership. It's not the same, it will never mean as much to me as you, sweet Diaryland. We've been through so much... College, more college, boyfriends and break-ups, a wedding, moves, eight years you have faithfully stood beside me, and now this. I know. I'm horrible. Please forgive me.
The thing is, there are so few people who read this anymore. Friends have moved on or given up completely on their diaryland accounts. All I've got left here are the people I've never met in real life, and even they have become few in number.
I'll still come back every now and then to write, for old times sake, and because diaryland is a more private venue, but I think I'm officially settling in elsewhere. Come and visit me at scorpi07.blogspot.com anytime.
I love you Diaryland, really, I do.
06.04.2009 * 11:14 a.m.
Yesterday, Barry and I went to the chiropractor. I am a little bit uncomfortable with the idea of someone crunching my spine so that it cracks in various places, so every time the doctor made an adjustment, I let out a ridiculous, nervous laugh. I just can't help it. My spine was snap crackle popping and I was laughing like a hyena.
After our appointments, we decided we needed some fatty, greasy food. We sat in Ben's Burgers waiting for the meat to cook, and I listened to KKIQ blasting through the restaurant's speakers. Lady Gaga, followed by Jimmy Eat World, followed by Nickelback. Really? Then I heard it. The glorious weather report that informed me of the thunderstorm that was fourteen miles away and moving in our direction. Hallelujah!
We picked up our bag of delicious burgers and fries and headed home. As I drove, my eager eyes scanned the dark clouds.
Once parked in the driveway, the drops of rain began to fall more consistently. I stepped out of the car and stood, face up to the sky, my skin drinking in the drops from heaven. Then I heard it. My old friend Thunder was creeping across the sky and my heart and nose and skin were instantly transported to an early time, an earlier me. I was 6, scared in bed at the roar of the skies. I was 9, playing outside as the storm moved closer. I was in a greener, more humid place.
In real time, I was about to cry. Why? Why does something that brings me so much joy cause a bittersweet pain deep in my chest? The best explanation I have is that these memories of a younger, carefree time make me happy, but the knowledge that those times are forever lost saddens me. The hollow ache comes when I think of all the family members who have passed through the veil, those people who I love so much and who are no longer in that greener, more humid place. The places that are the most special to me were not made that way on their own. They were made magnificent by the people with whom I shared those spaces.
If the people are gone, do the locations hold the same power?
I went inside our house, leaving just the screen closed so that I could hear the roar and the splatter through the open doorway. I put on a sweatshirt and slippers and sat at the table in front of an open window. I watched the sky come to life with a flash. I heard the clouds echo with power. I saw the street splash and flow with cleansing rain. I was filled with joy, with a sense of peace and a knowledge that, though some things have to change, pieces of the magic will always return to spark a memory and bring life to sleeping dreams.