Writing on the Wall

Although I feel for the people in all of our devastated areas, I have never understood looting.  Yes: looting for food and water to survive.  No to looting for TVs, shoes, playstations, and BEER.  Here is a little funny.

http://www.yeahboy.net/pics/looter/looter.html

Matt graduates in 77 days.  It is becoming scary. I have expected this to change everything, to make a lot of worries go away, to give back freedom.  Now, I doubt that it will. Realism always comes around and bites you in the ass.

I have put off writing on my blog for a while because I feel completely vulnerable and I am not quite sure how to approach divulging myself in such an open forum where all my family and friends can see what I am thinking. I am not an open person; I try but I fail miserably.  I am the first person to shut down when something becomes too difficult, to trying, too emotional.  So I trudge forward praying to see the end in sight. I hate to think that it is a very far way off. I watch and listen to others and their needs and cares not knowing how to express myself in that fantastical way – I don’t know how to communicate.

So who could really blame me for stopping the writing if I don’t know how to talk, if I don’t know how to write, if I only had not learned how to stuff away feelings and work on fixing it all for someone else and it will all work out in the end? I frustrate people to no end, but it is something that is a part of me, it is how I have always dealt with stress.  If you don’t love me for it, then you just don’t know me.  

In the mean time the best you will get from me in this crazy format is an occasional moment, a thought, and it all will barely scratch the surface, because that is truly all I can let myself do. I can’t take the time to think.

Bear with me.

This past weekend I was a youth counselor at a teenage church camp in Prescott, Arizona.  I went up to watch over a group of girls and participate as a “voice of wisdom”.  Lets stop the laughing at the wisdom part, and enjoy the fun I really had.  One point I wanted to make sure I got across to all people my age thinking about having children is that once they have become teenagers, they never shower.  Not one of my girls took a shower the entire weekend.  And as I thought about it more, when I went to overnight weekends, I don’t know that I did either.

So I had the shower to myself the entire weekend (and 2 other women).  HA!

You know when you go away for the weekend you plan to take all the extras you have in the house.  Any samples get stowed away to be used so you don’t have to take as much stuff.  This year at school I got a shampoo conditioner sample and some body wash samples.  So of course they made the trip.  The second day I got in the shower and I went to wash my body and I had mistaken lotion for body wash.  I stood there with a lump of lotion in my hand trying to figure out what to do.  I decided “when in Rome” if the kids aren’t showering, I shouldn’t be concerned about a little lotion, so a slathered it on, washed off and got out.  I am figuring the lotion doesn’t hurt, does it?

If you need a good chuckle, check out our president now.  He is one stupid human being.  Cracking me UP!

http://www.mediainfo.com/eandp/news/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1001137252

Today I got home from a church camp where I was a youth counselor.  Quite surreal. I was in charge and now I am exhausted.  But I thought I would say I remember where I was 4 years ago, do you?  Kacey waking me up in the Broadmore house.  She and I sat there for hours watching the television.  Kelli came home early from work because of the fear surrounding the height of her building. Things won't ever be the same after that date.  No one will be that oblivious ever again.

I pray for the families of those who perished and hope someday they can find peace.

I stole a fortune cookie from the stack left over from a team at work’s lunch.  My fortune was:

“An investment in yourself will pay dividends for the rest of your life”

I’ll make some assumptions from this:

1. MBA = good
2. By dividends they mean more than the nine cents most companies are paying out now

What is better than singing “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story at a bar by yourself?  Having a boy partner in crime.  Sitting at the back of the bar with a man lost at the bottom of a very large pitcher was fun.  I was the driver and didn't care what an ass I made out of myself(on par for me), and he was too drunk to remember.  I will never feel more supported than when Sam picked up the background vocals. 

By the way – I got my ID back.  WOO HOOO!!! (long story that ends with – be very afraid for your credit, and you should always be meaner than I am)