Still hanging

sorry it has been over two months... I guess time flies as it drags...

So, there is this ropes course at Camp. About 60 feet up in the air in the middle of the woods. You climb up, with loads of harnessing and helmeting. Hook yourself onto the trees with carabeaners (spelt awfully) and try to enjoy the view without letting your knees shake too much. You walk across wires, you swing on vines, walk balance beams, shuffle horizontally across the sky with ropes in your hands and feet keeping you flat so you don't fall. And then there is the big finale- the zip cord. You stand at the platform and detach from the trees and hook up to a pulley, and fly. Over a gorge. You fly. And then someone catches you and takes you down at the bottom.

I have found myself thinking incessantly about camp these past few months. I think its due in part to the complete joy of life I experience there. Whether its on the bay in a sailboat dodging freighters, or on the soccer field, or suspended in the air in the woods, or as I recently discovered, on the tennis court blasting the ball, I cannot get enough of it- ever. And of course this year was even more difficult- because of the added bonus...

So, quite appropriately I have found an analogy to suit my needs. The ropes course.

I spent over four years on the ropes course. Tackling every new challenge with a great excited spirit and hooked onto it for better or for worse. I learned a lot about myself up there and only looked down a few times, but mostly I never wanted to get out of the trees. I loved it there.

I guess it couldn't last forever ( a concept with which I am still battling) and the time came to get out of the trees. It took a lot of preperation and prayer to have the courage to step onto the platform and to actually disconnect from the trees. It was terrifying. There was so much of me that didn't ever want to leave. And I could fall- I was no longer hooked onto anything but a pulley. But I did. And I sat there on the edge of the platform, seperate from the ropes course- waiting for the next part. Fighting every urge to stand up and reconnect with the trees.

And then out of the blue- I was hooked up to the zip cord. I was connected to a string hanging over a gorge, and I jumped! I don't know how, but I did, and I flew... it was b e a utiful.

And it was over as soon as it began. I was at the bottom ready for the catchers to bring over the ladder and pull me down. But they didn't. I looked all over and called for the catchers to help me out, but no one came. I was left hanging about 20 feet up in the air by my harness- which gets painful after about 30 seconds and really painful after a minute. And still they didn't come.

I have been hangning now, painfully so, for over two months. Missing both the ropes course and the zip cord- and unable to get to either of them. The bottom of the zip cord is at the bottom of the gorge, and there is no way to get back up. Physics won't allow it. But the longer I hang here, the more and more I actually consider grabing hold of the wire above me from which I hang and pulling myself uphill. It would take days. I would fail more times than I could stand. I would get wire rope burns and sweat and be out of breath. I would be miserable. But I cannot fight the urge.

I catch myself trying, hand over hand, small step by small step. On good days I let go and fall back to the bottom and wait. On the other days, I don't get in my way, I let myself try until my arms tire and I have to stop. But either way I am still hanging.

...faded earth tones...

Red Dirt Road
(Kix Brooks/Ronnie Dunn)

I was raised off of old Route 3
Out past where the blacktop ends
We walked to church on Sunday morning
Race barefoot back to the Johnson’s fence
That’s where I first saw Mary
On that roadside pickin’ blackberries
That summer I turned a corner in my soul
Down that red dirt road

It’s where I drank my first beer
It’s where I found Jesus
Where I wrecked my first car
I tore it all to pieces
I learned the path to heaven is full of sinners and believers
Learned that happiness on earth ain’t just for high achievers
I’ve learned I’ve come to know
There’s life at both ends
Of that red dirt road

Her daddy didn’t like me much
With my shackled up GTO
I’d sneak out in the middle of the night
Throw rocks at her bedroom window
We’d turn out the headlights
Drive by the moonlight
Talk about what the future might hold
Down a red dirt road
I went out into the world, and I came back in
I lost Mary, oh I got her back again
And driving home tonight feels like
I’ve found a long lost friend


"its just me"


and realization hits...

Here or there?

When does it happen? The moment when you stop holding onto your pain. If it happens to slip away for a moment without you knowing, the minute you notice, you grab it right back. There is comfort in the chains (as Jars of Clay so perfectly stated). Comfort, familiarity in suffering. Because what are you letting it go for? What are you getting instead? Neutrality? Well, that doesn't seem fair. Call me an overly feeling artist if you must, but I'd rather live with pain and be living, then live with, well, that's it exactly, nothing really. Then, the void that exists from the start is no longer covered by the pain, and you are left with an even larger emptiness.

Then again, I am speaking out of hurt. A hurt that I am sick of feeling. But I can't quite let it escape either. Because the alternative is not appealing. I at least feel alive now. The alternative places me in a haze of existence. Do I have to enter the haze to get out of it on the other side? or can I just stay here for a while until the fog clears and I can at least see what's on the other side, and then let go, with purpose. Or will I play yo-yo with myself? Sick of the pain I enter the fog, until I am somehow led back to the hurt to relieve the absense in the haze? and then back again...

I just want something worth holding onto again.



muted hues...but My God, they are beautiful

3-D me

When you have an experience, or a feeling that you think you would like to relive one day, document it. Use words, use music, use something to place that moment in your memory forever. Write a journal entry, or a poem, or a story. Or find a song, or use a song, or be courageous and write a song. But save it somewhere. Maybe save isn't the best word- becuase then there is too much effort put into the saving and you lose out on the living. But once it has passed, take a moment, and think on it- fondly.
Today I found among a friend's collection of CDs an album by an artist I have never owned, but had borrowed from a friend freshman year, put on my computer and then lost for the past three years. Anyone who has had the experience of losing all their pictures from an important event only to find that all their friends then made doubles of their photos to replace your lost memories would understand what finding this CD felt like. It was almost as if my heart curled up on the edges and gently smiled as a tear escaped... almost.
Its truly beautiful how so many moments, emotions, and events I found on that album. I knew it was important, but I forgot the details as to why. Then I put the headphones on- and it was surreal. There I was sitting at my desk in my room on the fifth floor of the stunning brownstone on Comm Ave with the windows open and the sounds of the city outside being occasionally blown about. I could smell the air, the streets, the dusk. I remembered where everything was in my room, and the huge poster my roomie had over her bed... the tapestries, the closets, and my physics homework. The feeling of the college life. The security and complete directionless present. The thrill of friendships- new ones that felt old and well-worn. And somewhere amid it all, a passionate purpose. Who knows what for- but noteworthy and well nourished by life-experience.
I truly missed that feeling. In a sense it had evolved over the years to experiences of senior year that I can find memories of when I read my journal entries, and play the songs I have written, or even in prior entries of this blog. But that original feeling, the one that I can think on and look at myself in the mirror and feel 3-D --- that was truly missed.

It's not about reinventing yourself... it's about cultivating the self that you really are.

...even amid your world changing.






children's books had it right - can I be a pop-up book?



its about time this canvas had a new color wheel on its way. . .

weekend weather

This weekend was my graduation party- sweet times. Lots of people and lots of fun. (followed by some more bar fun and karaoke :-) )

As for the rest of life as it now is being lived... its humid and muggy. Inside and out. Literally and figuratively. And we all know how the heat brings out the best in people- riiiiight. I can't find the energy to do my psych research, and I can't even find the energy to function on less than 10 hours of sleep a night. I keep falling asleep during the days too. I guess I am sorta like a dog. Gosh, I really want a dog too. The past couple of months I have kept thinking about it and realizing that I can't have one until I have a steady place that will allow one. And it doesn't look like that'll happen for another year... man. I have never had a dog my whole life, and I'm 22 and still can't have one. And a fish just doesn't cut it. Not a lizard either. Lizards don't jump up on you when you come home. Fish can't tell when you are sad. I really want a dog...

Anyway- just as the heat as affected everything else, its shortening my attention span massively... so I will have to catch you all later.

try not to let the fog get you down... the haze will clear...someday.

some...er....

yeah, so back in Jersey, and realizing that a lot more people read this than I thought, so it is only fair that I write more often. Quick update for now; I am working as a waitress at a bar and grill over the summer- good money, and right down the road. And presnting some psych research I did over the year at the National Conference in Washington DC in August. Good times. And I'll be going to grad school at Northeastern in the Fall. That's the quick sum up, and the rest...will have to come later. Anyone in Jersey on June 12th? Come to my graduation party. Gimme a call!

Peace
><>

and colors for today... faded, like when your color ink cartridge is dying... hazy...

end of the beginning... or is it the other way?

11:40PM April 26th...only 20 min and technically I will be twenty-two years old. hmmm... I came across a number of thoughts tonight and thought a good way to ring in the rest of my life would be to spend some time with me...I suppose.

Everything that really matters, can't afford to be important.

Because everything that doesn't really matter hogs the spotlight. Its so true. There was a benefit concert tonight for victims of violence and AIDS in Africa. Great causes, amazing organizations. I was asked to say a few words about the situation in Darfur, and I dont mind public speaking, so game on! But I was actually nervous, because when preparing I found myself becoming so passionate about it that my words were a jumble, I was driven by such crazed emotions that I wasn't being helpful, so I had to flush it out and tune it down a bit. It all turned out just fine and everyone got it, but where is the line where passion crosses from being motivational and inspiring to dabilitizing and scary? Just a thought. I dont think I have made up my mind about it yet. but then again, I think we often rush too fast into having all the answers. Sometimes you just need to have a couple things you are not sure about one way or another. You'll live your way into the answer when its time.

But anyway, my original thought was that I had been preparing so much for the concert and the movie the night before and all the publicity because this was really important to me. And the whole time I was preparing I was so bothered that I couldn't do more. I was actually upset that I couldn't tell my professors to give me Incompletes and I would finish it up next semester, but for now I had something to attend to that was bigger than my education, heck, bigger than me. I couldn't do that because I am graduating, and I wouldn't graduate with a transript full of I, I, I, I . A significant portion of our human family is being brutaly exterminated by another portion of our human family, and I have to push that to the back of my mind and heart so I can memorize drugs that synthasize neurotransmitters and all the cases where insanity pleas were reversed.

Everything that really matters can't afford to be important.

And then I am sitting there, and all I can think of is all the chapters I haven't read, and the massive paper I have due in less than a week, and whether or not I can get it all done while maintaining a pseudo-normal sleep pattern. Even when I am there, at an event to save others, I still cannot allow my mind and heart to be fully consumed with compassion and weight because I have to outline my to-do list mentally for the next four hours.

Then I got a headache. No big deal right? But it got me thinking even more. I really wanted to then get home, plug in the christmas lights and take a shower, make some tea and listen to some calm music/nap for a little bit to rest my head. But I felt like a slacker just thinking about that! I had work to do!!! (you have no idea how much self-prodding it took to get myself to take the time to write this!) I thought about the last time I allowed myself to take a long shower, the last time I took a nap, the last time I just sat and breathed without doing anything, the last time I did anything for me, for my soul. I dont even mean in the spiritual sense ( although that could use more quality time too!) I mean that part of you that dances when the perfect chords are played, the part of you that beats a little faster when you see a friend, or slows down when you breathe real deep. Treating your spirit nicely for lack of a better word is a necessary part of life. It is the essence of you afterall. But yet again, everything that really matters can't afford to be important.

We neglect others and we neglect ourselves- because somehow in the scheme of things, we can't afford to give them their deserved weight and attention. Isn't that odd to think that what is most important in our lives is class attendence, gpa's, resumes, papers, studyin' for exams. Exams, peices of paper with text on them. THIS is what is preventing us from caring? From saving? From loving? I guess this is still another one of those things that I haven't figured out yet...

I hope we live our way into the answer soon, because pretty soon there will be a lot less living going on.

Happy Birthday to me... wow.


And just for the record, I am not depressed or upset, as it may read, rather...just disappointed that one of the limitations of humanity is they sorely underestimate their power to change.

And tonight there was a drummer. Jeff. Jeff was beautiful. And no, not in the conventional sense, as a matter of fact, I don't even know the color of his eyes. He actually performed a beautiful canvas of dance...on the drums, yes. He painted the airwaves with his fingertips, elbows, knuckles, millions of different sticks, edges of drums, middles of drums... He closed his eyes and opened mine. He danced with the cymbals. I can't even explain it. It just made me seriously question why the drummer is always in the back - i know its for acoustics, but nonetheless, this was quite the performance.

He looked like he was home.

I wonder what that feels like...

Perfect moments

Amelie moments that must be documented before they are forgotten:

- the smell of old books, especially the sound when the pages crinkle as you turn them

- warm wind blowing in your face. When the wind blows it surrounds you head to toe, like a full body hug from God.

- walking with dangly earings as they tap on my neck and shoulder and gently jingle.

- light rain that when it hits your face it feels like a holy water sprinkling at mass

- when walking to the beat of the music makes you slow your pace down

- the moment when the rain suddenly gets heavier and everyone on cue rushes for the same few safe overhangs and then after a moment everyone is smiling at each other, for no reason in particular. And then once they have their umbrellas, newspapers, hoods, they rush out, but that moment in between, those shared smiles... perfect.

- walking down the middle of the street

- the way puddles dance into life when the raindrops hit

- when it rains, and the trees are partially wet, and part dry and it looks like they are crying

- the moment a magnolia leaf falls. Once the petal breaks off from the tree in the space of time before it hits the ground is a profound moment. So many petals fall unseen and maybe that's why its so difficult for me to look away from the magnolia trees, because I feel as even if I am the only one to see it fall, my seeing gives the petal's fall purpose. perhaps...

- facing into the wind and inhaling deeply so it feels as if the Holy Spirit is giving you CPR and reviving you slightly

- standing in the middle of the little overpass pedestrian bridge by the BU beach over Storrow Drive, watching the traffic and feeling like you are floating and you can breath deep

- at just the right moment, throwing something forcefully and very far


The colors for today's canvas? hues that are humanly imcomprehensable, to be seen only in Heaven.

start
dark magic sparkly hippopotamus walks up
upon his sister once born peace baby
summer bubble joy inside of wet fat ballooned dinosaurly
and she following yellow music friend jumply fed turtle child
clouding has night pig turn light garden butterfly
where she loves squirrel cows with happy
pull out you a cocoon it flew momy for froged
one saw down castle I fly, boys are dreamy
whisper the pink flew or flowery big smelly tree
me cry cool went slow apple rain grow little
dad dug moon at home for hot dog
I who cried am silly green farm boy song or bounce good
sun are red round for spring kittygirl top went silently funny like lake glow
put glad heart owl if cat star mud color have toy
nest is my fast time, or told meowing hand I ate bed
boys are stupid so they do little winter boxen
imagining together, are we nuts? twirls like snow
boys have cooties that were bluest barn he hat and wing funfedly
sometimes I like to run around in my underoos for no reason, was the smart eat
he went daying and came on a woman
Golly! That was fun! and my man had to talk by cactus
sadly his story was thoroughly researched and delivered with dramatic flair to water ran sky
are that was is told in were eras gety a ask the are yess
tell and says is noboys are smelly, getted her goest
she lives an see of the end er


I love my friends... you are all brilliant!!!!

A picture of a human kite. Just thought it was worth seeing.  

growing on

i am not normal. i am not pretty. i am not smart. i am not kind. i do not care.

this was the beginning of an entry of a friend's blog. and although we do not know each others deepest secrets, nor have we spent hours on the phone together, I'd like to say we know each other quite well. So what struck me, was what was on the page, and what she was actually saying, and the regret that I was not there to have the conversation with her and the computer. Sure, to an extent, she is not stereotypically normal, pretty, smart, kind, nor does she care. But, despite all of her arguments against what I am going to say, she is more these things then she knows. I find, on the contrary, that she is quintessentially normal, the epitome of beauty and smarts, unconditionally kind, and more caring than most humanitarians.

But thats not the point. And she knows that, somewhere inside, I know she knows that. The point is what she is REALLY saying. She is doing what the best of us have all done. Found some way to slap at mediocrity and scream out- I refuse to conform and assert our individuality through most any means available. To transform the way people think and to show them that they are fixating on immoment, trivial concerns that are going to be laughed at in a few years, or perhaps days time. To, in a single gesture, reallign the world's priorities and then be able to feel that even if the world doesn't know what's important, you do, and you can sleep easy now.

She goes about this by claiming to not be everything that everyone strives to be. I did that too. I didn't care, or at least about the things I was "supposed" to care about. And my idea of beauty was founded on un-earthly ideals. I said I wasn't what people tried to label me, just to let them know that I was untouchable by their standards. But then life happened...

it always does, ya know. You go through new experiences, learn new things, meet new people, meet new "you"s, and grow on. (I won't say grow up, there is too much immaturity implied with that word, but growing on never starts with immaturity and never ends in maturity, it never stops.) And I have learned something valuable through my recent "growing". That although this technique served me well in the past, it is not the way anymore. Making these statements and living lives that uphold them inorder to be true to yourself is in fact denying very human parts of yourself.

I am not normal. Well, despite how much I want to believe that my free spirited mind and creative edge can justify that line, it simply cannot. Every single person I have met in the world has had those characteristics as well, ( some more than others) but they all do. And define normal... well, no one is, which means we all are.

I am not pretty. Yet another comment out of your hands. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and as long as there is one person in the world who thinks you are attractive, you cannot justify that comment either. Also, compare Cosmopolitan's "beauty" with Michaelangelo's...whose standard are we looking for? Beauty is something that cannot be captured consistently from person to person and year to year.

I am not smart. Oh please! Do I need to say: that everyone has a skill that they do better than anyone else, and also that everyone has someone who can do it better than them.

I am not kind. Everyone has treated someone/something nicely at least once in life. Be it animals, people, collectibles, there is always something that brings out the nice part of you.

I do not care. Then why are you writing?

I can still accomplish what I set out to do then, as my friend does now. I can still shout in the world's face and try to shake them into seeing the futility in their efforts for pointless accomplishments and possessions. But you will find, as I did, that the best way to do that is to not put off all their labels and definitions and show that you are beyond them, but rather to share your humanity and embrace the parts of yourself that are normal, pretty, smart, kind and caring. Say that you are, part what they would like to make you and call you, but it comes with the territory of being a person, and there is nothing wrong, or unworthy about that. You are not pretty and smart because they say to be so, you are, because you are. And there will always be parts of you that remain pretty and smart. What's more important is that you accept that, and it does nothing but enhance the "true you" that is nothing secular or commonplace but, purely remarkable.

inetgrate every color, shade and hue that exists in nature, and paint the masterpeice that is life and living.

I have my music back again. Easter is good. Great, even.

Now if you would excuse me, I am going to paint a mural in the air with the paints I locked away for 40 days. Masterful...

super sunny day

...well at least in comparison to the past week of cold misery. And I can't enjoy it. I can't enjoy the sun, because I have to sit in dark classrooms in basements, or without windows for hours. And then I have to sit in my room ( you remember, the one with the beautiful view of the dumpster) and stare at this screen for hours, and then when I want to get a decent burrito, I can't do that without plunging into the daylight free basement of towers. That's sad. There is nothing philosophical about it, or intriguing, and its not a comment on society, I just think its sad.

I also think that its sad when you spend so much time doing things for the next day and the next day, that you totally loose out on the chance to do something for this day. When the present day turns into nothing but an opportunity to accomplish something more for the next day.

And socks with holes in them. They are sad too. A perfectly good sock, probably with a kickin' pattern, totally shot, cause of one lil hole. The rest of the fabric is fine, but that one little gap where your random toe juts out manages to ruin the whole thing.

these colors...they are the little random tears, or holes that have punched themselves through the canvas. The part in the corner where someone's coat got stuck and ripped at the edge. They are not colors, but rather, the unplanned, unwelcomed, absense of color.

Phunny Phil

Groundhog's day ( and my mother's birthday). I got to thinking about the day, and the whole tradition of the prediction of 6 more weeks of winter or spring. I started to reflect seriously on why the shadow means run away, here comes winter, and why no shadow means welcome springtime. Especially since today was a beautiful day, sunny and above freezing. And yet, there was Phil's shadow, and away he/she ran. ( It can be either a guy or girl, sometimes its Philomena) How ironic that when the weather is most inviting, the tradition is to hibernate some more. And yet when the weather isn't that great, Phil decides to come on out and enjoy the cloudy unpleasant scenery.

I then got to thinking about life, (cliche- I know) and thought that perhaps Phil's little demonstration is more than just a rookie weatherman's dream. Perhaps its an analogy. ( since we all know how much I adore analogies) You see, the nice weather, which we would normally welcome, is shunned and seen as awful and forboding. On this one day, the nicest possible day, is most hurtful towards Phil. Just as the favored, and nicest people in our lives have the potential, on certain days, to be the people that are most hurtful towards us. What is it about this day that changes everything? Why is the sun bad? Why does the shadow mean to run away? Why do the people you care most for hurt the most? Do you see how this all fits? On this occasion the same sun that we adore and brings us warmth and growth is seen as the sign for 6 more weeks of cold and death. Just as the same people we adore who bring us warmth and joy are able to inflict the most pain. And have you ever noticed that the sunnier the day, the worse the shadow? So perhaps the closer and better the person the worse the hurt?

Well, of course this is how the world remembers this day, and how they choose to view it. And even though it is only one day of the year, I would rather not a single sunny day be seen as a bad thing- ever. And since Puxotoney's ( or however they spell it) only source of income is their lil rodent I highly doubt that they will change the tradition and befriend that shadow, so I guess we should all try to be the person who never has a groundhog's day. This way, when it seems to be "that time of year" no one will have to fear a sunny day, or those close to them, because unlike the movie, not a single day is Groundhog's Day.

todays' colors for the canvas...? It was bright, and even though I did encounter a shadow or two, I chose to befriend them.

Cold Morning

I woke up this morning to find that it had snowed and hailed throughout the night. The trees are all covered with ice and snow, and the ground is white and silver. It looks beautiful, but is so cold, and dangerous to drive in. Its something that you can appreciate from the inside, and despise from the outside.

My Aunt Loretta passed away this morning. She had been battling pancreatic cancer for a while. After I heard, I looked outside again. Now I see that just as the snow and ice is hated when outside, we, her friends and family are saddened by her death. But, just as the snow and ice is beautiful from the inside, she finally found her peaceful rest.

It was a cold morning.


God speed Aunt Loretta- We love you.

Why I Hate Rain... sometimes

Now, don't get me wrong, rain is phenomenal- I love it on any normal day, or for that matter, any abnormal day too- but there are a few rare days that I hate the rain. One of them was yesterday.

I love to drive- It's therapeutic and calming, and inspiring and motivational all at the same time. Windows up or down, music blaring, or silence - driving is my peace. Yesterday I went to the YMCA and had a great workout, and went to Walgreens (one of my favorite stores) and did a lil shopping, and was on my way to visit one of my favorite friends, when all of a sudden I had no control of my car. The rain on the ground made it slippery, and as I was exiting the highway on a downhill exit ramp, my car decided to slip, spin in a circle and plow over the curb backwheels first going at least 60 miles an hour. The whole time I am trying to control this huge metal weight with two little levers and a small wheel without much success, cause I was terrified it was going to roll once it hit the curb. Once the car finally stopped, I was still partially on the exit ramp (and partially in the woods), and realized as other cars came bounding around the corner and off the highway, that I was in their way. So somehow the car started and I drove it off the curb and onto the side of the road. I looked at the car, couldn't believe that I was untouched, and that somehow the body of the car was spotless as well! Then I looked under and at the tires and saw where all the damage was. After calls to parents, AAA, and friends, and a trip to a gas station, I eventually got the car to the mechanic. When I told them what happened, they looked at the car, and when they saw my back tire, they all did a double take and said "Wow- you really hit hard". Apparently I completed busted my rim on the tire and the hubcab and all has to be realigned. Then somehow on the front, part of the sway bar was damaged. When I asked them how safe it was to drive, they kinda laughed and said, "Well, your steering column isn't aligned with the car anymore, so... not that safe."

Now, Praise God that the car didn't flip, and that no one was in front or behind me, and that I managed to somehow drive the car to the mechanic, and that the paint job I just had finished on the car wasn't damaged, and even more importantly, that I came away without a scratch. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was listening to 99.1 FM...the Christian Radio Station, and that my grandmother a couple years ago bought me a little sign for my car with a picture of the Sacred Heart on it which makes me a member of the Sacred Heart Auto League (it's supposed to protect you). What I find particularly interesting, is that when I called Tim later in the day, he told me that his car was in an accident from slipping on the highway and my car had done the same, all around the same time. (luckily he wasn't in his car, his brother was borrowing it- but he is fine as well).

This story is a interesting color for my canvas. It was difficult to experience - but it could have been worse. There are many positive aspects of it, such as the helpful man at the gas station who told me where the mechanic was, looked at my car, and assured me that I could make it there safely. But there are also many influences that the whole experience has, which I did not count on. I can not go the YMCA , out with friends, or shopping, to my grandmothers house, or Tim's until the car is fixed. My bank account after all of this will be a negative amount- which promises a great social life next semester. And when I think about getting in my mom or dad's car, I cannot shake the wave of nausea that hits me. It is difficult to know that I love driving, but to also know that the next time I drive, will be extremely tough. The reason I tell this story is not just because it happened, but because it is a perfect color to paint you in order to explain being home. It is sometimes diffcult to experience, but it could be worse. There are positve aspects of it, and many negative influences... and although I know there is love, it is still tough.

In heaven there will be rain, but the cars up there will never spin out of control.


...and according to NBC news, the weather report for the next three days......rain...