She Said

I was sitting in the middle of my bed, legs crossed, trying to concentrate on the book I was reading. I probably should have been studying for the test I would be having the next day, but my mind was craving some real fiction (yes, real fiction) and I refused give it statistics in lieu of it's true want.
Try as I might, I couldn't focus on the book. One of my roommates was chatting not so quietly with her boyfriend while another was talking to me. Was the open book in my hands not an indication that I'd rather not listen to either of them? Well, I'd chosen to have two roomies; one on the left and one one the right. So this must be my punishment for not thinking things all the way through.
Evidently Right-Side roomie said something I was supposed to respond to, because there was a pregnant pause. Actually, the moment was quieter than it ought to have been. I looked at Left-Side roomie and she was looking at me, too. What had been said that I'd missed while purposely ignoring them both?
"Sorry, what," I asked.
Left-Side roomie ended her phone call and rolled over to join in the conversation. Man, it must've been a doozy.
"I said,"continued right-side,"you only want him because he's taken. If he were single, you wouldn't look at him twice. You're just one of those kinds of girls. You'll always want someone else's man and he'll never be yours."
I sat perplexed. "Wait, what?" I couldn't have heard what my brain was telling me I had. But I had, because she repeated it again and much more slowly.
A million cutting words slipped to the edge of my tongue and I inhaled in preparation to slice into Right-Side as if I'd been saving up my entire life for this moment. Left-Side interjected quickly,"You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
That was all it took to bring me back to the reality of the moment. This girl didn't know me. She didn't know the guy in reference. And she didn't know anything about our relationship except that we knew each other and talked a lot.
Still. Those words burned into my memory. What did it say about me that someone who didn't really know me thought such unsavory things about my personality? Could it be that she could see something in me that I didn't know was there? No, no. Of course not. I was being ridiculous. But it still hurt.
But I did start keeping a close eye on myself. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but that's what I did. Time passed, and my feeling were... well, to put it gently, unrequited. It wasn't sweet, but it could have been worse. He ended relationships, he was single, he began new relationships and I cared all the while. Sometimes I'd wonder if I kept caring just to prove that it wasn't just a passing fancy or a need to have what someone else did. Nothing ever did become of him and me. But I wasted a lot of time watching myself love someone crushingly. What entertainment...
And all because of some idiocy she said.

Fairy tale Lies?

I was never the girl who believed her life would be a like the fairy tales. I didn't identify with the princesses in the stories. And why should I? My daddy didn't run a country; just our house.
All I ever wanted out of life was to be happy. Not that Cinderella happy that just happens because you're that good. For one, I just wasn't that good. I was OK, I guess, but not that movie princess good. I mean, who's that good, anyway? So I never hoped for the easy, no-work, happily ever after. Then I met HIM.
I'd met lots of guys. I expected no more from him than any of the ones I already knew. Really, I expected less. Three months into college had made me a pre-jaded young woman; wary of more than I'd like to admit. But I guess that just show how life really can be like a fairy tale: Things are never quite what they seem or what you expect.
With HIM, the proverbial shoe fit. HE made me feel like royalty. Like I was more than the wonderful I already considered myself to be. It was a heady feeling. To be more than you imagined means you can let down guards, break down walls, and give access. All of these I did. I could finally share my hopes, dreams, trepidations, and fears. I could laugh or cry freely without ever feeling judged. I could curl into a ball, rock myself out of pain and into sleep, and HE'd be beside me when I awoke, rubbing my back and whispering reassurances. Frightening how free I became, how open. With HIM I was literally without guile or malice. How could I be? To be accepted completely allows you to accept others completely. It was never fairy tale easy. If it were, it probably wouldn't be worth having. But it was glorious, memorable, and inexplicably...sharp.
Years after I was too old to believe in fairy tales I saw a spark of truth. I saw what my girlfriends saw when they were watching those movies that are, today, proclaimed to be liars.
Who knew? The little girl who never believed in fairy tales would grow into a woman who was living one.

Untitled

My writinG bearS your name, yet thoSe who read it Still wonder.
I lay awake at night, makinG conSCiouS effort not to think of you. I pray for Sleep and as it Sweeps to Claim me, I CrinGe at the prospect of dreaminG of you. But I will dream. I alwayS do.
MomentS where I miGht forGet, where I miGht walk away with love and pain behind me, do not Come.

I inhale and your SCent iS on the breeze. I CloSe my eyeS and your Smile iS behind my eyelidS. I Swallow and I Can taSte you. I feel you when there is nothinG beneath my handS but air, and your voiCe trickleS into everythinG my earS hear. My memorieS, my thouGhts of the future, my every moment iS themed around you. WaS there no me before there waS an uS?

There'S no one left with whom to talk. No one left who haSn't attempted to Carry my heart'S burden and found it too heavy, too Sharp, too Slippery, or juSt plain too much. It'S too much to Share but I Carry it alone. Every day, without pauSe.
I Can't be helped and I Can't help myself.

Something Stupid

So I was listening to old mix CDs (remember those?) and came across a song I barely remember burning.
It's called "Something Stupid" and performed by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman.
Ironic how I didn't recognize it at first listen, but how apropos it was and still is.

"And though its just a line to you, for me its true/ It never seemed so right before...
I practice every day to find some clever lines to say/ To make the meaning come through/ But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late/ And I'm alone with you.
And then I go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid
Like: I love you"

Not too long ago this was very much my story. I think back and realize that that inebriated but very clear 'I love you' was a turning point. I can't spend time going over all that's happened between the whispered words and now. But even now, the ripples are still going. Isn't that crazy? The theory of a butterfly effect. That everything has an effect on everything else and reverberates through time and across all boundaries.

So back to the topic at hand. I wouldn't classify myself as a 'gusher'. You know the gushers; those people that must remind you that they love you every time you speak. I don't have anything against them, mind you. Some of my greatest loves are gushers. But that just isn't me.
But I'm not afraid to say it, though. I only say it if I mean it and when I feel the words pressing against my throat to be released. The love is always there, but sometimes there's a moment or a thought that sends an overflow of love and I have to express it in a tangible way.
That's how it happened that one night. We were lying on the floor, in the dark, a little past buzzed but not quite drunk. I was staring out the window, watching the lightning, listening to the thunder, and wondering where the rain was. "What an odd storm", I thought to myself. And in that moment I couldn't help myself. I'll admit that I weighed the option of not saying it. But I realized it would be better to say it now and be able to pass it off as drunken affection, than if I held it in and it burst out at an awkward and uncomfortable juncture. Well, you know what I did next. But it's what he did next that shook me.
No.
It's what he didn't realize he did next that shook me. He stuttered. He wasn't speaking when it happened, but I felt it in the air, in his spirit, in his soul- like an electric crackle across my skin. An instantaneous pause, that I might have missed if it had been anyone but him. And, oh, how it hurt. I will never be able to deny that. That hiccup within himself made me wish I'd been born mute; anything to avoid having said something to make him skip a beat before responding.
I won't go into the response, either. I heard it, I remember it. It's emblazoned in my mind. But it's really not important. Not to me, anyway.
All this to say that after that night, nothing was the same. It was very subtle, but I was always a fan of subtlety and if he was doing it consciously, he did it in the best way he could. He claimed not to remember that bit of conversation that night and I claimed to believe him. Why shouldn't I? He has no reason to lie, does he?
But I'll never forget my something stupid: the one time my 'gift of gab' and my unwavering bravery in the face of the unknown answer turned against me. My butterfly effect. My something stupid. My unwanted 'I love you.'

CSI: (My brother's experience)

CSI: Penn State
CSI: PSU
CSI: Ariel Vincent

Whatever you want to call it. Okay, here we go. So I have friends and company coming up this weekend. I have to present a clean apartment right? Exactly. most of the apartment is empty, but that doesn't mean it's clean. But first things first - the bathroom. I've already known it, and specifically the shower, was in need of cleaning because it has been cleaned once, if that, since I cleaned it last. (You remember that chapter, right?) That was a long time ago. This just gives me that one last reason to do it right now. I can't have people thinking I'm a slob.

So I go in and gear up. Face mask on, gloves up, and I'm ready to go. (The first I went to put on two face masks by mistake, but those dollar store masks weren't having it. As a result, not one, but both of their elastics came apart. Oh well I moved on. I also should have had the forethought to take off my long sleeve shirt, or at least to wear one with sleeves that wouldn't unroll when rolled up and wrist deep in nasty. But alas, I didn't, so picture the rest of the story with sleeves that did just the opposite.)

I sprinkle on the powder and I squirt the gel, taking note of the fact that I must have used a lot during the last case because more than half of the bottle has already been used. I grab the sponge and start scrubbing. (After taking the time to remove the hair that I neglected to clean off after the first case.) I scrub it up making sure to get the sides, and not just the floor. The front left of the tub is of special concern because for some unknown reason it is visibly dirtier than the rest of the tub. In fact, it is the reason I first decided it was time to clean the tub again (those months ago.) At another part of the tub, right under the soap holder, there is a surprisingly white patch that I've noticed developing probably ever since I thought to clean the tub. I'm working from the side of the tub, and at this angle I can see something that looks interestingly enough like painter's caulk or something of the like that runs up the side of the tub from the white patch up to the soap tray. "They must have been working in here. Maybe they used something that peeled some of the paint on the tub floor. That would explain the white patch at the bottom of the strip." Mystery solved.

Hardly. After working up a good gray soap/gunk coat over the entire tub, I decide it's time to rinse. Initial sponge swipes at caulk looking substance affords me nothing, and intense scrubbing around the white patch only increase the white patches size. I spend about ten minutes removing hair and an unknown slimy gunk from the drain and the strainer like fixture. (I felt like throwing up when my fingers encountered the first few pieces of hair, even through the gloves. Ugh! I know it's not mine, and that's just nasty. But if I can dissect a frog, a sheep's eye, and a cat after skinning said cat, I should be able to remove some hair and something that is beginning to remind me more and more of fascia from the cat skinning from a drain right? So I man up and move on.) I even add some powder to the slime to make it more of a sludge which greatly helps the removal process. Not wanting to remove a layer of paint from the floor of the tub, I choose to move on with my rinse without agitating the white patch any further. I turn on the overhead shower spray and aim it to the back of the tub.

The front of the tub, with swipes of the sponge and the onslaught of flowing water quickly clears up to reveal a cleaner whiter surface. The back right of the tub seems upset with my seeming neglect and looks upon me with a now more evidently dirty (due to contrast) face. I turn off the water and liberally reapply powder and gel to the back corner. I scrub and scrub the back corner from the top of the back-o-tub slope all the way down to the aforementioned white patch located about mid tub on the right side. Not wanting to have to apply product a third time, I make sure to get the far side of the tub along this corner as well. But when I arrive at the caulk like strip this time, I find it breaks away easily under the force of the wipe.

(*?*) What the biscuit? (*?*) I look at the situation again. Let me give you all the clues I had so you have a chance to figure it out as I did. 1 - This past semester I've used bar soap the entire time, while my roommate uses body wash. 2 - Despite being the only one actually using the bar soap, my bar soap disappears surprisingly fast. 3 - I leave my bar of soap in the shower. (Rather than maybe taking it back to my room after every shower and bringing it back every shower.) 4 - The tub truly has not been cleaned in a long time. Take a second and guess at it before going on to read the conclusion.







[^!^] Ho-Ly-Shaboles! [^!^] So what's going on? Well that strip I described as a caulk like substance is actually hardened soap. That's why I was able to wipe it away with ease after the initial rinse wet it. Because my soap sits in the holder even when I'm not using it, it is exposed to the shower's spray when either my roommate or I shower. As a result, my soap grows smaller and smaller everyday due to both my use and my roommates showering. Some liquefies and flows as soapy water from the holder down the side of the tub. When the water is cut off, the portion of soapy water that has not reached the tub floor to be washed away by the last bits of water running to the front of the tub, slowly harden back into a soap residue. Shower after shower have led this residue to grow into a full blown strip of soap along the side of the tub. That's all! Well, kind of, see there one last thing - the white patch. Previously thought to be the doing of phantom bathroom workers, the true origins quickly became apparent. The white patch as I stated before lies at the bottom of what is now known to be the soap strip. It's origins have much to do with it's placement. The soap that daily traveled the strips path and managed to reach the bottom of the tub provided concentrated protection to a small area from what I like to call "Body Wash Off". When the water was turned off, the last of the bottom reaching soap was indeed washed away with the last of the water. At the same time, the cutting off of water signaled the end of the shower and a break in dumping of BWO into the shower floor environment. What this all says is probably quite clear by now. That white patch that had been "developing" for so long, hadn't been doing a thing and there was no removing of a top layer of paint. Well not "paint" per se. The tub floor was certainly coated with something that changed its color. But the change in contrast wasn't due to the white patch. It was just staying the same while everything else around it went bad. The white patch was the color everything was supposed to be.

It's like a story of how the protection of God can keep you clean even while the world around you gets dirtier and dirtier. The outsider might think there is something wrong with you because you are different, but the truth is quite the opposite - there was something wrong with everyone else!


Feel free to show this to everyone else.

My first thoughts: DUDE!...EWWWwww...Cool how you I figured that out though.

Escape!

Thank God for vacations. Seriously.
I just took my first real vacation. Literally, it was one of the best things I've ever done.
Yes, the location was fantastic. Yes, the company was wonderful. Yes, it was at the most appropriate and necessary time.
Teaching is a joy to me. It really is. Aside from all the bureaucratic crap, I love my students and the knowledge that they learn from me and look forward to learning from me. I understand why everyone promised it would be a rewarding career. But it's taxing work. Especially considering the kind of students I work with. But I still love them. Really, I do.
Still, I was in utter need of the vacation. I took the precious week of Christmas break and traipsed off to the Bahamas with one of my best friends and some mutual friends. I met new people, experienced new things, and literally sat down to do nothing. I sat, stared into the sky, basked in the tropical sun, and thought about absolutely nothing. Nothing. I pause to think about how wonderful an experience it was.
If you haven't taken a vacation or don't feel like it's for you: take one! Save the money and splurge or go do something inexpensive. Whichever you choose, take the time for yourself. If it's only for a few hours, go where you don't have to respond to any demands aside from your own.
I promise it will be entirely worth it!

The End of a Story

And so it ends.
No more tears left to cry. No more words left to say.
There's just no more.
Now that there's just you and me. Now that there's no us. I have nothing left.
No use for the sweet memories I've stock piled. No place to store the notes, cards, and other tangibles. No one with whom to share secret glances and inside jokes. No warm body to cuddle into. No irritations to soothe and fights to make up. No one to cook for. No one to wash dishes with. No one to fold laundry with. No one pounce on, to complain about, to praise, or to give me butterflies.
I have nowhere to put the love that wasn't ready to be over. Nothing to do with the plans and visions of the future.
And so it ends.

Solamente Hasta Finales Del Tiempo

I saw my life in HIS eyes. Of all the people I've encountered, I've only ever seen my future in the eyes of one. I'd never admit it to HIM and if pressed, I'd actively deny it. But there has only been HIM.
HIM waiting for me to walk up the aisle. HIM walking me back down. HIM gleefully announcing "our" pregnancy. HIM gripping my hand, whispering encouragement and little jokes, as our children are born. HIM cooking meals, cleaning house, disciplining children... and all with me. HE was my partner and my complement. It was with HIM I saw myself becoming an empty-nester and discovering wrinkles and gray hairs. With HIM my home would be filled with love and warmth; I'd feel safe. HIS eyes told me we'd sit in rocking chairs, just remembering. That we'd experience grandchildren. HIS eyes told me my future would be all I'd dreamed and so much more. Seeing all that warmed my heart, quickened my pulse, sweetened my voice and lifted my soul. I knew without a doubt, regardless of all else, that my future lay with HIM.
But then HE blinked. And I saw nothing at all.