Consider this... Jacqueline's Joy

My friend, Jackie, has gone and done it. She has some marvelous work repurposing items. Have a look!

Jacqueline's Joy: Well, I've gone and done it!!: "Well my friends, I've taken the leap and started a blog. My friend Mary has been urging me to for some time now and I just didn't think I h..."

Consider this... My Wish

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

I wish you enough

Consider this... "Hallelujah!"

I was surfing YouTube and came across this. I had no idea the impact it would have on me. I've just re-watched it again and as before, I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face.

I don't know if you know this about me, but I sing. I sing well enough at least. I know all of Handel's Messiah in 3 of the parts. I can't manage to sing bass in the proper range but that's all to the good *smiles*. My mom used to play the whole of The Messiah on either piano or organ. That organ you see about 12 seconds into the above video wouldn't have been above my mom's ability when she was in her prime. She played a similar one at Notre Dame for one of my cousin's wedding. She played it beautifully too. She adapted the wedding processional from The Sound of Music working into the traditional "Here Comes The Bride". It was absolutely grand!

Note from the "Hallelujah" vid at the beginning, something I hadn't noticed until this last. The Christmas tree in the store is exactly the Christmas tree my mom always strove for. She went mostly with blue lights, but that's the effect she wanted. But I digress...

The reason I'm sharing all of this is to tell you how wonderful my mom is, what a gifted musician she is/was, and how much I miss that. We were able to get her piano down to my sister's house where mom and dad are staying now. She has that again at least. She gets so upset that she's no longer able to play as well as she once used to. The stroke she had several years back robbed her of some of the coordination it takes. But she still plays well.

She wasn't able to teach me how to play piano. My communication style left her very frustrated with me... well, it did/does with most people. I know the reason why for that now. But, mom tried her best to help me as I diligently taught myself. If I hit the wrong key, she'd call out from wherever she was in the house (usually the kitchen) with the correct one I should be playing. I'd find it and try again. If I still had difficulty, she'd come over and show me by example reaching over my shoulder.

She's the first person to ever "get" me. I know I drove my family nuts because of the problems I had/still have. I saw/still see things at a different angle from the masses. Always have and probably always will. And try as I might, at that age, I couldn't see things from the angle that everyone else were seemingly able to.

Once, when my mom was directing the church choir, she'd asked me to help her with the syncopation of a new song she was teaching the them. I took her at her word and when she wasn't getting it quite right, I tried to teach her like she taught me the piano. I didn't realize that it would embarrass her in front of the choir. I just knew she wanted me to help and I was trying my best.

She yelled at me in front of them. Yelled. Mom didn't yell often and I simply got up and walked out of the sanctuary. I sat on the hallway floor across from the pastor's study and waited for choir to be done. After she'd gotten everything put away, she came out and stood over me. We started to argue and then I said those words that most teens say at one time or other, "You just don't understand me," and I started to cry. That heart-wrenching, tears pouring, cry from your soul type of cry.

Something about that struck a chord with her. She told me to come with her to the car and she started driving out of the parking lot... a straight across the street to the parsonage. She met the pastor at the door, talked for a bit with him, then signaled for me to come inside with her. Pastor listened to both of us. Then he did something that entirely shocked me.

He told my mom that she was wrong, that he'd seen how our family interacts and knew that no one took the time to really "hear" me. She started crying, I started crying, we started crying in each other's arms. That's the night mom learned to understand... when she really started listening... and I found a voice. And... we started becoming friends. She became more than mom, she became "K-wohl" (that's "Carol" with your tongue between your lower lip and lower teeth).

Now that mom and dad aren't here in my home any longer, it's really struck me how much things have changed. While they were here I was so busy learning a new job, keeping the kids as quiet as possible, trying to see to my parent's needs, trying to make things pleasant for them, and just too busy. I'm still too busy, but this week has been a week of reminiscing.

Never again are we all going to sing together as a family around my mom playing the piano. Never again will I have the opportunity to hear her play her rendition of "Shower's of Blessing" or her arrangement of "Every Moment of Every Day" with the "Theme from The Pink Panther" as the intro (boy, did she get looks from the congregation the morning she debuted that *LOL*) or hear her yell to me from the kitchen the correct key from the one I struck in error

I miss my momma... I'm 51 years old, and I miss my K-Wohl...

Something for Fun

A guy calls a company and orders their 5-day/10 pound weight loss program. The next day, there's a knock on the door and there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic,19-year-old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nike running shoes and a sign around her neck.

She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, 'If you can catch me, you can have me.' Without a second thought, he takes off after her.

A few miles later huffing and puffing, he finally gives up. The same girl shows up for the next four days and the same thing happens. On the fifth day, he weighs himself and is delighted to find he has lost 10 lbs as promised.

He calls the company and orders their 5-day/20 pound program. The next day there's a knock at the door and there stands the most stunning, beautiful, sexy woman he has ever seen in his life. She is wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and a sign around her neck that reads, 'If you catch me you can have me'.

Well, he's out the door after her like a shot. This girl is in excellent shape and he does his best, but no such luck. So for the next four days, the same routine happens with him gradually getting in better and better shape. Much to his delight, on the fifth day when he weighs himself, he discovers that he has lost another 20 lbs as promised.

He decides to go for broke and calls the company to order the 7-day/50 pound program.

'Are you sure?' asks the representative on the phone. 'This is our most rigorous program!'

'Absolutely,' he replies, 'I haven't felt this good in years.'

The next day there's a knock at the door and when he opens it he finds a huge muscular guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that reads, 'If I can catch you, you're mine.'

He lost 63 pounds that week.

Consider this... Birthdays

Tomorrow is my 51st birthday. I was born on August 22nd in 1959, at 3:05 pm which makes me a cuspy Leo/Virgo... hence the previous post about that year. If you haven't seen it yet, click 1959.

This has definitely been an eventful year. Last October, I spent a month in Lexington, Kentucky at Saint Joseph Hospital, East. My dad was showing sick back in June during vacation, spent a month at home promising to visit the doctor before he left to spend a month or so with my sister in Florida. I'm still not quite sure if he visited the doctor or not. During vacation with us, he would seem to forget exactly what he was doing. He'd go to sit and seem to get stuck 1/2 way down to the chair and wouldn't move again until someone nudged him verbally or physically. He showed no signs of being ill while at sisters, but on the way home he took ill again. I got a call from my mom worried that he'd had a stroke. She was waffling between taking him home to the doctor's or to the hospital. I had to ask her how she would feel if dad died on the way home to convince her to check him in. His kidneys had failed, he had a MRSA in his blood, and developed pneumonia and blood clots in his arm and legs before they finally got him well enough to return home. The doctor stated that he'd never seen someone as sick as dad was actually leave the hospital under his own power, even if that was a wheel chair.

Next came almost 6 months of mom and dad staying with us here at the house. We had their bed brought from their house, brought dad's lift chair and mom bought herself one, ensconced them in the living room as comfortably as possible, and tried our level best to keep the noise of the children from driving them insane. Dad has never been an easy man and growing up with him and his harshness made me determined to not allow him to visit his wrath on my kids as much as possible. On the reverse side, I slept on the couch in the basement, in my step-son's room, and in the basement's bedroom before my husband was convinced to finally get our bed set up in the basement.

We made it to April. Dad was getting on the kids for every little thing. Even if I were around for which he had explicit instructions to leave them to me then. I had to have left the dinner table at least 6 times the last couple of weeks they were there to just keep the peace. The straw/camel/back thing happened when dad got after my youngest for not having a cold Dr. Pepper in the fridge. I had had it by that time and let me dad know in no uncertain terms (and no uncertain language) that I wasn't standing for it another moment. He could either watch his actions and words or he could leave. He decided to leave at midnight that night and mom decided to go with him... to a house infested with mice.

I was torn between my victory and my guilt for their situation. When my sister went to the pastor of their church for some help for mom/dad in cleaning up their house, she was told by him that "that's the children's job". Forget all the support to the church my mom and dad have given over the years. Forget the fact that all of their children had duties and responsibilities for their own work/families. One of the many reasons I don't go to church now. I'm sick of this behavior with people who assume the name of Christ. They got their house in order, lost all of their furniture because of the infestation, and any food in boxes that the rodents could get into. By the way, dad and I had a discussion where we agreed to disagree but he knows now in no uncertain terms he is not to behave that way towards my kids any longer.

Fast forward... June, dad fell going up the steps and cut his knee a bit. Then, without checking the levels of Coumadin (remember the blood clots?) in his blood, they removed his ureteral stent and sent him home where he promptly began bleeding furiously. Mom got him to the hospital where they ended up giving him 5 units of blood. We only hold 5-6 units folks. So yeah, he almost died again.

Then, I lost my business from the time I had spent in Lexington. It wasn't big but it was starting to grow. I just couldn't recover from the time-loss and money loss. Consequently, my husband and I ended up filing for bankruptcy. It's not something we're well pleased with, but we had no choice. We filed once before when my husband almost died from a mosquito bite (viral encephalitis or equine encephalitis as most people call it). We lost our home that time but this time we're managing to keep it so far.

So, now that should be enough for anyone you'd think, right? Well, you couldn't be as far from the truth than that.

Got a call about a month ago late at night on a Wednesday from my brother that mom had been taken to the Hillsdale Community Health Center for a fall and breaking her nose. She had apparently fallen at church. How he got that information?? He called again early Thursday stating that it wasn't her nose, it was her back, it was broken, and she was being taken emergently to Bronson Hospital Trama Care in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She had a broken vertebra mid-way down her spine. I hot-footed it over to the hospital to find my mom looking like this:

Trust me, I've never seen her looking so bad. They had her doped up even at that point. She has no recollection of those days at Bronson. The first she truly remembers after Hillsdale Hospital is the day after surgery. They had her that way to manage the pain but even then she cried. I don't know if you've ever had to hold your mom's hand when she's in pain, but believe me, it isn't easy. I couldn't deal. I left. I came back the next day, but I left. Not proud of that, but I'd run out of strength. I left... and I cried all the way home. I don't remember that trip and it's an hour's drive. Went back to that hospital every night after work and spent hours with her on my days off. But that isn't all...

The weekend after she fell, my dad collapsed at the hospital. Sister from Indiana took him to the emergency room there at Bronson, but they couldn't find a reason. Brother took him home to his house but the next day, dad couldn't climb the stairs to leave the house. Brother took him to Jackson's Allegiance Hospital where they discovered his MRSA was back. It was caught in time but now I had 2 hospitals to divide my time between. Mom's surgery went well, although she kept seeing mice on the ceiling of her room and the recovery room thanks to wonderful medication. And dad was on one of the strongest antibiotics he could be to drive the infection from his blood.

About 3 weeks ago, mom and dad made it to rehab in Chelsea, Michigan. They're in the same room and both are improving. They're expected to be released in about 2 weeks and will be spending the rest of their recuperation with my sis in Indiana then spending the winter with my sis in Florida. Dad's afraid that if they come to my home that he'll lose me forever. He wouldn't, but I'm not telling him. Let him worry.

This was taken 5 days ago

AND, on top of it all, I also lost one of my dearest friends back when things were getting really interesting. He always said he'd be there for me, that he couldn't imagine his life without me, how much he loved me and how much I'd been a boone for him and he wouldn't be the man he is today without my influence. Apparently, I didn't do as good a job of influencing as I'd thought or he confessed. Apparently when you get a real life girlfriend, any statements made previously are moot. He says it's because he'd grown to depend on me too much (insert laugh here) but ... yeah... not fooling me whatever he says. Thanks a lot and don't let the door bat you on the fanny on your way out... and yes, I mean fanny, stupid Englisher.

So, that was my year...

How was yours?

Consider this... Work

I've been working for Cloud10 about 8 months now. I'll be learning "Retention" on August 31st. Not looking forward to that in the least. In my mind, if someone wants to go, why block the doorway? If something's been done to make them want to leave, offer to fix it, but yeah... don't let the door bat you on the fanny on the way out!

So I've been looking for ways to make some extra bucks. I started working for ChaCha.com as a Guide. I get sent questions and am given the tools to answer those questions. It's not a lot of money, but it'll add up. And with it, I can do those things with the kids that I really want to... at least over time :)

If you're interested, please click Become A Guide and if you decide to apply, please consider putting my e-mail address in the "ChaCha Guide Referral Email Address" field so that I can get credit? That's snick5908@gmail.com ;)

I know, I'm shamelessly hustling on my own behalf but it's for a good cause :p

Consider this... Customer Service

I know that things are tough. Believe me, I know. I understand people are out of work, people are scrimping and saving, people are losing their homes/car(s)/luxury/staples. It really sucks and we'd love to have someone to blame. But it isn't your local customer service/technical service representative. How do I know? Because I'm one of them.

I know that we (I) make mistakes, sometimes very costly mistakes. But usually when you call in, it wasn't MY specific mistake. When you get me, you can almost bet it's the first time we've spoken and whatever problem you're facing wasn't caused by me. And yeah, you can want whatever it is that's wrong fixed right away. But you need to realize I have rules that I have to follow or I'll be just like those people out of work, scrimping and saving, losing their home/car/luxury/staples... oh, wait... I am one of those very people except I still have a job at the moment.

Case in point. Customer calls in wonder what the hell he's being billed $600 for. I check his account, find he was disconnected early last month then reconnected about mid-month. This caused a whole new account to be built for him. Whoever was processing the disconnected account forgot to check to see what this was all about and billed the account for early termination and non-return of equipment. The equipment alone is $300.00.

Now, I totally understood that this man was upset that one night he goes to sleep with money in the bank then wakes to find someone's hand in his cookie jar stealing his last crumbs. I don't blame him for being upset. But really! Do you think he's going to have ANY luck getting that money redeposited THAT MORNING???!!! Well, apparently he did.

So, while waiting for a supervisor that he demanded to speak with come on the phone, I had the privilege to sit there and listen to him rant for 30 minutes. How could I work for such an evil company? How could I uphold any company who would do this to another person/taxpayer/American? I so wanted to remind him that no matter what his circumstances, HE was the one that allowed his account to become disconnected for non-payment for services. If HE had had the backbone to realize that HE couldn't afford the service and ... but I digress... this all began because he had gone in over his head like so many of us did in the years leading up to this financial crisis.

My point is, when you call in to any call center looking for help for a situation you need fixed, please don't shoot us. We're only trying to help. If you get one with an attitude or seems to not give a shit about your situation, realize this. He or she has had it with callers like above. You don't give a shit either, I know... nuff said.

Mila's Daydreams

It's been a while since I posted here. My life and that of my parents kinda took an abrupt left turn. I'll post about that when balance is restored. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this YouTube and you can follow her blog here: http://milasdaydreams.blogspot.com/

Consider this... 1959

In 1959, the world was a different place.

There was no Google yet. Or Yahoo. Or Gauchodeinteligenciaartificial.blogspot, for that matter.

In 1959, the year of your birth, the top selling movie was Ben-Hur. People buying the popcorn in the cinema lobby had glazing eyes when looking at the poster.

Remember, that was before there were DVDs. Heck, even before there was VHS. People were indeed watching movies in the cinema, and not downloading them online. Imagine the packed seats, the laughter, the excitement, the novelty. And mostly all of that without 3D computer effects.

Do you know who won the Oscars that year? The academy award for the best movie went to Ben-Hur. The Oscar for best foreign movie that year went to Black Orpheus. The top actor was Charlton Heston for his role as Judah Ben-Hur in Ben-Hur. The top actress was Simone Signoret for her role as Alice Aisgill in Room at the Top. The best director? William Wyler for Ben-Hur.

In the year 1959, the time when you arrived on this planet, books were still popularly read on paper, not on digital devices. Trees were felled to get the word out. The number one US bestseller of the time was Exodus by Leon Uris. Oh, that's many years ago. Have you read that book? Have you heard of it?

In 1959... Cultivars of plants named after this date must be named in a modern language, not in Latin. Castro's troops approach Havana. The island of Addu in the Maldives declares independence. Alaska is admitted as the 49th U.S. state. Women in Nepal vote for the first time. The Marx Brothers make their last TV appearance, in The Incredible Jewel Robbery. Import tariffs are lifted in the United Kingdom. Two monkeys, Able and Miss Baker are the first living beings to successfully return to Earth from space aboard the flight Jupiter AM-18. Singapore becomes a self-governing crown colony of Britain with Lee Kuan Yew as Prime Minister. The Central Treaty Organization CENTO is established. The original Mini designed by Sir Alec Issigonis is launched. The first section of England's M1 motorway opens between the present junctions 5 and 18. Three years after its first telecast, MGM's The Wizard of Oz is shown on television for only the second time, but it gains an even larger viewing audience than its first television outing, spurring CBS to make it an annual tradition.

That was the world you were born into. Since then, you and others have changed it.

The Nobel prize for Literature that year went to Salvatore Quasimodo. The Nobel Peace prize went to Philip J. Noel-Baker. The Nobel prize for physics went to Owen Chamberlain and Emilio Gino Segrè from the United States for their discovery of the antiproton. The sensation this created was big. But it didn't stop the planets from spinning, on and on, year by year. Years in which you would grow bigger, older, smarter, and, if you were lucky, sometimes wiser. Years in which you also lost some things. Possessions got misplaced. Memories faded. Friends parted ways. The best friends, you tried to hold on. This is what counts in life, isn't it?

The 1950s were indeed a special decade. The American economy is on the upswing. The cold war betwen the US and the Soviet Union is playing out throughout the whole decade. Anti-communism prevails in the United States and leads to the Red Scare and accompanying Congressional hearings. Africa begins to become decolonized. The Korean war takes place. The Vietnam War starts. The Suez Crisis war is fought on Egyptian territory. Fidel Castro, Che Guevara and others overthrow authorities to create a communist government on Cuba. Funded by the US, reconstructions in Japan continue.

In Japan, film maker Akira Kurosawa creates the movies Rashomon and Seven Samurai. The FIFA World Cups are won by Uruguay, then West Germany, then Brazil.

Do you remember the movie that was all the rage when you were 15? Murder on the Orient Express. Do you still remember the songs playing on the radio when you were 15? Maybe it was Rock Me Gently by Andy Kim. Were you in love? Who were you in love with, do you remember?

In 1959, 15 years earlier, a long time ago, the year when you were born, the song Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by The Platters topped the US charts. Do you know the lyrics? Do you know the tune? Sing along.

They asked me how I knew

My true love was true

Oh, I of course replied

Something here inside cannot be denied

...

There's a kid outside, shouting, playing. It doesn't care about time. It doesn't know about time. It shouts and it plays and thinks time is forever. You were once that kid.

When you were 9, the movie Blackbeard's Ghost was playing. When you were 8, there was Doctor Dolittle.

6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... it's 1959. There's TV noise coming from the second floor. Someone turned up the volume way too high. The sun is burning from above. These were different times. The show playing on TV is Bonanza . The sun goes down. Someone switches channels. There's The Bell Telephone Hour on now. That's the world you were born in.

Progress, year after year. Do you wonder where the world is heading towards? The technology available today would have blown your mind in 1959. Do you know what was invented in the year you were born? The Bullet Train.

1959 was a very strange time

A bad year for labor and a good year for wine

Uncle Ike was our American Pal

And nobody talked about the Suez Canal

...

That's from the song Post World War Two Blues by Al Stewart.

In 1959, a new character entered the world of comic books: Fritz the Cat. Bang! Boom! But that's just fiction, right? In the real world, in 1959, Bryan Adams was born. And Rosanna Arquette. Nastassja Kinski, too. And you, of course. Everyone an individual. Everyone special. Everyone taking a different path through life.

It's 2010.

The world is a different place.

What path have you taken?

What happened in my birth year?

Super Sexy Perfume Advertisement

You might watch this and go OMG WTF!!! Then again you just might go OMG mmmmmmmm ... schmexh!

Epic Edit Choir

If you're just browsing YouTube, take a few moments and visit this guy's page - MysteryGuitarMan. There's very few things that he produces that I think is a "miss". Some are better than others, of course, but I have never come away from one of his videos disappointed.

How Howie Found Bobby

I remember "Bobby". I was commenting about doing "Howie Mandel Hands" to someone to demonstrate "there ya go". You kinda see it at the very beginning. He starts it but doesn't quite follow through. Anyway, I found this humorous, and enlightening... I didn't know he was Gizmo!

Working From Home

I have been employed by Cloud10 for just over 6 months now. While the work has been steady, I've found the pay still inadequate to meet my family's needs. So, I've been looking for additional work. So have friends.

I did a quick Google search of at-home opportunities and found HireMyMom.com. I continued researching a bit more to find anything positive or negative people had to say about them out there in cyberspace. All I've found so far has been positive, so I signed up this morning. I sent e-mails to a couple of the projects I found, so we'll see. I'll keep updating here as things progress.

Click the logo to be taken to the site:

If working for someone else isn't your cuppa, I've included a link to an article on Entrepreneur.com below. There's oodles out there, I'm sure you can find something that "works" for you.

Businesses You Can Start at Home - Entrepreneur.com

Good luck in your search and hopefully in mine as well!

Regards,

snick

Consider this... Childhood revisited?

My step-son compiled this video of all the little snippets my oldest son captured on my Flip. Not my youngest son's prouder moments, but compiled together they're pretty funny.

I'm trying to get my youngest to man-up, is what I believe they call it. If not that, then I'm not sure what else to call it. He's desperately trying to cling to childhood but still wanting the privilege of age. Caught between a rock and a hard place.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to return to my youth (not childhood) as long as I could retain the knowledge I've accumulated.

What about you? Would you?

The more things change...

.. the more they stay the same.

Or is it that they change back? We start out meaning to change. Change our lifestyle, change our hair, change our attitude, change our mindset... but is it really change?

Could it be a return?

We become complacent in our lives and grow bored and dissatisfied so we try something new. We change little things, we change big things. We grow bored and we change some more. But sooner or later, do we find ourselves back where we began?

Sometimes.

Sometimes we do.

The basic core of ourselves, that which was grown in us, our hearts, our minds, are so ingrained that even a drastic change can't completely change what or who we are... at our core. We generally gravitate back to the real "me".

Sometimes we don't.

Those things which are superfluous, unimportant, minuscule... they fall away like so much rubble. They don't and can't bind to the core. They remain outside of our true selves like decorations on a Christmas Tree. The decorations are taken down and switched over the years. The tree remains -- of course not the same tree unless you have one of those *gasp* fake ones!

Here I am, five years out from my decision to change, and I find myself back at the beginning. Alone again for the most part. At least in the way I desire. I still have dear friends that I've made on the way. I've also lost people whom I thought were important at the time. The losses were hard and painful. But the joy I've found in those that have remained eases the loss.

Sometimes.

Sometimes changes are thrust upon me.

Sometimes I regret that the others were found.

I knew they were there, at least the three. I assumed that everyone had their own "specials" inside. When I learned other people didn't, I quickly learned to keep silent about mine. Knowing I was different and sensing it set me apart far worse than if one of my others would come out front altering me to such a degree that people became uncomfortable.

I learned to hide who I was, my difference, and I wouldn't allow the others come out. When they did, people would call me weird. My mom called me weird. Weird is usually a distinctively scathing tag. "You aren't as we are. You're too different. You can't be accepted. You will always be on the outside." But my others and I would huddle together and be fine by ourselves, thank you very much.

I found myself lost in wishing... for the acceptance, for the inclusion, for the normalcy. Since They (the people I had been taught were supposed to always be looked upon as role models) always turned their back on me, I began to look away from them to the Others that They wouldn't accept either. I found my weird wasn't so weird. These Others didn't fit Their mold either. I found that I didn't stick out with the Others. The Others, to greater or lesser extent, embraced me for who and what I am... weird.

One of the Others found one of my others, one that had never spoken aloud before, and gave her a voice. Then another was found, then another. And now instead of just strong urgings, promptings, feelings, drawings, I had voices in my head arguing together with me about the best way to go, the best thing to do, the best way to be. Each having their own opinion and each believing their way was right.

And then the two others were revealed. One hidden to bury great trauma. The other hidden to protect. I had never known them. They had never so much as hinted at their existence. And now their voices blend with the other three to urge, feel, draw me and all to their way of thinking. Even the quietest one who simply wants to hide away and never show her face to the world ever again. The cacophony inside me mind ebbs and flows, but sometimes I wish for the peace again to be restored. But that would mean giving them up and I could never do that.

Sometimes they're a curse.

Sometimes they're not.

Sometimes they see me through change. The pain of change at this moment is almost stronger than any I have ever had to face in my life before. Few things have hurt me this much. Only one other time have I felt myself on the precipice of losing who I am entirely. That is a place that I never want to return to. But the dark depths of that pit calls to me inviting me to forget, bidding me to return to its embrace, to simply let the pain go and hide away from it and the world.

But this time is different. I know better now. To follow that desire would shut me off from healing. I wouldn't feel the pain, but the pain would be there, festering and growing, killing me to the core. So I face it. I adjust. I change... my mindset, my attitude, my heart. Resetting back to who I was before. Becoming me again. But I bring back new parts of me with memories cherished, challenges met, strength gained.

He always said I was stronger than I knew. What he didn't realize, I'm stronger than he knew. I've lived through this pain before. Back then it forced me to grow, to change. And just like a tree that's left standing after the storm, I'll wait for the ground to dry from my tears, grow my roots down deeper in preparation for the next time, and remember once again that the more things change...

...the more they stay the same.

que cera cera

The Beginning

This is a work in progress. I don't know what I'll be using this for or what I will be creating. It will probably be a conglomeration of things that strike my fancy, pique my interest(s), or just a place to put things I find fascinating. I hope you enjoy, but if you don't, I'm not fussed about it either *smiles*. Hopefully you'll be amused. Hopefully you'll come back. Feel free to comment as you're want. If you think you know me from any previous experience, you'll probably be surprised. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not who I think I am. It's amazing the change you can go through in a year. So, if you're not prepared, I politely refer you to the picture...

Snick