Seriously, I love this site. LOVE it. It's updated every day, I believe. Relieves depression and gives you second thoughts about wearing that combination Richard Simmons and Gene Simmons outfit you think you look fabulous in...leave it hanging in the back of your closet. PLEASE! Or let me catch you at Walmart so I can snap a photo and win some peopleofwalmart.com swag.
I'm making a blanket for Emmaline. Remember that I'm just a beginner at crocheting. I'm teaching myself, which means I'm impatient. I know a few stitches only. But I'm enjoying it. Crocheting calms me down. Hoping to finish this in the next week.
It is nearly two in the morning. I have to be at work in an hour and I am ridiculously tired. Posting now because I may just come home and go to bed. A fourteen hour day...at least I hope it's only fourteen hours...so that our economy will perk up on this holiest of holy days.
~ Emmaline, my valentine ~ a job ~ family and friends
Even as I write that small list, my heart and soul grumble under their breaths; but I am grateful for many things. I consciously try to remember the small joys in my life that make me grateful for the life. Love Affairs was created for that purpose.
Like all of us, I want more. I want life to be better and happier and full of ease. I dont think it's a selfish thing we do when we want those things that we believe will make us happier. For a want of a connection, for the safety and happiness of those we love, and for fear of the unknown....we go after more and often forget the abundance we already possess.
To those out there that have a hard time finding one thing to be thankful for on this day or any day....I understand.
It's not to be a millionaire that you dream, but of full cupboards and refrigerator. Of money for rent or doctor visits. Of one Christmas present for your kid so she didn't hate the holiday so much.
It's not parties and galas of hundreds of people you wish you could attend, but a movie with a man or woman holding your hand and stares with love and lust at you.
It's not running a marathon or climbing a mountain that you pray to God for when your eyes first open in the morning, but for the pain to leave your back or hips or legs or heart or mind just so you can walk to the bathroom, pee and have a good day.
I understand. And I am hoping for the both of us. I don't know you, but please know that I am grateful for you. You color my world. You reflect all that is good about life and love and God. And you are the reason I am still alive. Because I may not know you now, but I am LOOKING FORWARD to a moment when I do. And I don't do that....plan for the forward. So, please remember that I am thankful for and love you for simply being you.
I like this photo. My Blackjack doesn't have the greatest camera, only a 2.0 megapixel. Sometimes the photo, usually outdoor sunny ones, are beautiful and clear; and the night photos suck. However, the natural effect from lighting or movement just adds a little flair.
That's what I am suppose to do, right? One step at a time? Left foot in front of right in front of left?
Is there An Idiot's Guide to doing this? Better yet. A seeing eye dog? Or...someone who could hold my hand and tug me when I'm reluctant to take steps, steadies me when I'm walking the rocky cliff, and pulls me up over the hurdles and walls?
I've deactivated my Facebook and cancelled my MySpace. I'm not entirely sure of the reasons. Selfish, I'm sure. I know that the fine psychiatric staff at Parkland found my Vagabond through the Facebook page and had a long meander through my pages. I feel a little molested but it's my own damn fault, isn't it. I should not have said I was going to kill myself so publicly. So a little nasty, perverted, uninvited fondling of my brain is my own undoing.
It does make me not want to get any help from people who should have just asked me if they could read my stuff. Let's hope that they kept their word and didn't go into my hard journal when it was in their possession.
Anyway...I don't like intrusion. It makes me withdraw into my own space even more. Again, I know I invited the investigation in with a public cry and a public forum. I can't help but still be thoroughly pissed that I've been touched in my naughty bits. I'm thinking long and hard what to do with Vagabond now. One of my only outlets and it's becoming less and less of my sanctuary.