LOVE THRUSDAY

I really considered doing an entire Love Thursday on ghee, but I decided to save that delicious story for some other time. It is delicious. Instead, today's entry is about good news. Yesterday I was sitting at my desk when I received an email from one friend and a text from another friend, both of them sharing a bit of good news. I won't tell you the news because it's not my news to share. It's not anything crazy or sensational or a secret. It's just not my news to share here. But when I heard their bit of good, my heart sprouted wings and flew up, lifting me a few inches off the floor. Yes, I realize that sounds mushy. But seriously. Nothing brings me more joy than receiving word that my friends are doing well. After J died, I used to dread the sound of the phone ringing. It seemed that every time the phone rang it was someone telling us some sort of bad news. Someone was dead. There was a car accident. There was news that someone had a serious illness. Bad, horrible news. Over time, it just became the norm to hear bad news. Bad news became easier to hear. This is both a blessing and curse because eventually your ears get adjusted to only hearing bad things. There may be good things going on out there, but you just don't hear it. When I noticed this happening to me, I knew I had to make a change. I had to find a way to hear the good again.

I think I've done a pretty good job at re-training my ears. I hear less bad stuff. I don't dread the ring of a phone any more. But even though I've chosen to hear less bad, I don't feel like I hear enough good. So when I get that simple email or text expressing the tiniest bit of good news, I get ecstatic. I can't help it. I love hearing about your good news. The next time you get a job promotion or you won a package of M&Ms shoot me a text or an email so that I can take the time to be happy for you. Because your happy makes me happy.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

The other night Chris and I were walking around Brooklyn. We were looking for that awesome falafel place I ate at with Talaura over the summer. I wasn't sure where it was and I was a little afraid of getting lost. I told Chris we could call Talaura and ask her where it was, but he said "no, let's just wander around". And so we did. We finally found the falafel place and sat outside eating falafel sandwiches until a crazy homeless woman walked up and started yelling at me. I asked her why she was mad and she said it was because I "did drugs and had the sex". I told her that she was wrong about the drugs, but I did have "the sex" with my husband. And then Chris and I took what was left of our sandwiches and walked away. The End.

LOVE THURSDAY

My sister left a comment on fb about my guilt entry stating that I was never the fat kid. That's not entirely true. Sure, I would never had made it onto the Biggest Loser, but I was the fat kid of the family or had the tendency to be on the chunky side. I have had a couple of women in my life (actually still do, she will probably go to her grave before she will willingly say anything complimentary about my body) who have gone out of their way to point out my chunkiness. They started this when I was reaching those formative teenager years when I was already struggling with body image. I was still trying to figure out how to get my bangs to stand up (never figured that out) and how to put on eyeliner (never figured that out either). One of those women even helped me cultivate a fear of eating. In fact, I can still hear her voice in my head when ever I go to eat anything bread related. "You eat that roll and you're gonna get fat". Things got worse when I continued to put on weight in college and grad school. I just kept buying bigger pants and making horrible food choices. This is also when I started to obsess about exercise. I was convinced that I just needed to exercise more. I lost a pants size and figured that I just needed to exercise even more, but I stayed at that size and weight. So I thought this was the size and weight I was supposed to be. I continued to exercise like crazy because I was terrified of going back up a size. The one good thing to come out of all of that was my introduction to yoga. Yoga was the thing that I could consistently do without dread or seeing it as a chore. Eventually something clicked. I learned about food (there's no such thing as "diet" foods) and I learned to work smarter, not harder in exercise.

One of the most important things I've done in dealing with my body insecurities is to surround myself with women who encourage each other. Instead of hearing "you're looking a bit pudgy today", I hear "you look fantastic in those jeans". I've surrounded myself with women who recognize that even though we have flaws, we are beautiful. Isn't that the way it should be? Women make up a little over 50% of the population in the U.S. We hold high powered jobs, run households, and other general awesomeness. Yet as women, we are bombarded with advertisements that tell us we are not awesome. As women, we are assailed with music and images that tell us we are less. So the last place discouragement should ever come from is a woman. I've been blessed with the women in my life. They're response to "you eat that roll and you're gonna get fat" is "here, let me pass you the butter". They have helped me see that I am beautiful and I hope that I do my part in letting them know that they are just as beautiful if not more.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

New Year's Eve, I took down all my Christmas, washed clothes and put clean sheets on the bed, and I vacuumed the floors. I watched seasons 1 and 2 of Falling Skies. I made a veggie pot pie in my new dutch oven. I watched the ball drop in New York City and then went to bed at 11:30. That's how I rang in the New Year. No party, no drunken mess, no fireworks or hoopla or hollering. Just me quietly acknowledging the end of a year. And it was good. I feel that quietly bringing in the New Year helped to set a tone for the year or at least for how I see the year. The beginning of 2012 rolled forward with the sound of a freight train. I was running from hospital to work to home to shit in my basement. I felt like I never stopped moving and that there was a constant roaring in my brain. There was no stillness or peace, just a continuous state of terror. This year, I'm relishing in the stillness and quiet. I woke up New Year's day hangover free, made myself a good breakfast and shoveled snow from my driveway. I took extra time in the shower with exfoliating scrubs and lotions. I went to a movie and I ate our traditional New Year's Day meal of Indian food.

And yes, to some people, it may look lonely. But I don't mind being alone. Being alone is easy. Being without Chris is the hard part and that will never get easier (sorry folks...it's something that is un-fixable). But I have gotten used to his physical absence. I have grown accustomed to solitary and I love that I could set the tone of the New Year in my own solitary way. I love that I could begin the year on my terms, with my own rules.

LOVE THURSDAY

Sunday, I was driving down a street I've driven down about a dozen times since I've moved here when I look over and noticed this little cemetery sitting right in the middle of a parking lot. OK maybe not right in the middle, but pretty darn close. I don't know why I never noticed this before, but there it was, The Linwood Pioneer Cemetery, nestled in a parking lot of a strip mall containing a huge grocery store. I decided to stop and take some pictures.

I am not good at stopping when I want to stop for something. My last day in Atlanta, we were all piled in Chad's jeep coming back from breakfast, when we passed a mural under an overpass. I wanted that picture, but I felt so bad asking if we could turn around. It made my stomach hurt to ask which is stupid because I was with Chad. If anyone understood the reasons for stopping to take pictures or smell roses, it's Chad. But this is a problem I have always struggled with. I have tunnel vision. Sunday my task was to buy fabric and then get home to make stockings. There will be no deviation of said task! And that's why I forced myself to pull over and take a minute or five to tool around the cemetery.

Let's all take a minute or five. Happy love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

The first Christmas after J died, I didn't feel like doing anything let alone putting up a Christmas tree. By the following year I still wasn't feeling too festive, but Chris got a new Serenity model that he wanted to turn into a Christmas ornament. He was so excited when it showed up in the mail and so cute when he sheepishly asked "can we put up a Christmas tree this year?". He looked like a little kid. I felt bad for depriving him Christmas. So we put up the tree and hung our ornaments including his Serenity and I felt better. It was a reminder that I shouldn't stop doing the traditions I enjoyed just because I'd lost someone close. Chris pointed out that J wouldn't want that. I've struggled with the idea of setting up the Christmas tree this year. I didn't really see the point. It is just me and the dog and we won't even be here for Christmas. I'd have to lug all the decorations up from the basement and then lug the boxes back down. And I know I'll be really tired when I finally make it home at the end of the holiday, just the idea of lugging the boxes back up, tearing everything down and lugging boxes back down into the basement just makes me fall over. But then I'm reminded of how hard we worked to re-build our ornament collection after that disaster I won't talk about. I remember how important it was for us to be able to set that Christmas tree up in our very first home. I remember what a kick both of us got out hanging up our mix of elephant and SciFi ornaments and how we'd laugh so hard at our quirky nativity scene.

So last night I carried all the Christmas boxes up stairs and with A Charlie Brown Christmas playing in the background, I put together our Christmas tree. I'll admit that hanging some of those ornaments stung like a million bees, but Oh man, what great memories those things dredged up. We really do have a great tree.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

My first inclination was to dread going home for Thanksgiving. I had a whole bunch of whiny reasons. I've gotten comfortable in my hermity life style. But then, I started to actually look forward to it. It's kind of like the Grinch's heart growing three sizes. My anticipation for the Thanksgiving holiday grew just as proportionally. The other night I was watching The Neighbors' (don't judge me). It was the Thanksgiving episode and the human mom was teaching the alien children that Thanksgiving was really Hell. It included in-laws that criticized everything and the usual family bickering. It ended nicely with people realizing that they didn't need to be mean to each other, but I couldn't help but think about how these TV shows are often inspired by actual events. The idea that Holidays with the family is a horrible chore that we must endure seems to be a common theme actually. It's like we're going into battle because we remember the year before when Aunt Sally complained about EVERYTHING and Cousin Dilbert pouted because he got left out of the drinking game. We so easily forget that at the very core of the craziest, loudest family gathering is the love that brought you all together in the first place. Because here's the deal. If it was so awful, you wouldn't go. Deep down we love every minute of the crazy.

Maybe it's because I haven't been home in a while or maybe I'm just tired of the stereotype that's become the family holiday gathering, but I decided to leave my armor at home this year. Hope everyone has the most wonderful Thanksgiving and that you are safe in your travels. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

It is difficult to bring people to goodness with lessons, but it is easy to do so by example.

-Seneca

The time change has made me have to rearrange my schedule. In order to get Hooper walked before it gets dark, it's become the first thing I do when I get home. The old routine was to come home and get on my yoga mat, cook dinner, then walk the dog. That routine changed to yoga mat, dog walk, then dinner. Now it's walk the dog, yoga mat and then dinner. Routine changes are always hard for me and sometimes my yoga practice gets left off the list. But lately I feel like I've got the swing of this new routine.

I remember sitting in Misti's backyard not too long ago listening to my new friend Michael complain about not being able to get up early enough to do a meditation practice. I remember telling him that he should just do the practice before bed. At least that way his head would be clear and he'd be able to sleep better. I also remember thinking "Damn! I need to take my own advice!". I had been struggling with this very thing all year. I get where Michael was coming from. He said that he felt so much better if he started his day with meditation, but then felt guilty for not doing it at all. I can't tell you how many times I've found myself drifting around on the same guilt ocean.

These things are not things I have to do. I don't have to walk the dog or get on my yoga mat. They are things I want to do. Same goes with my meditation practice (which has found it's way back into the morning routine). These are all things I should never feel guilty for not doing. But what I suddenly realized while sitting in that backyard (Misti's backyard has powerful juju) was that these things I wanted to do didn't need to be done in a specific order. All that really mattered was that I did them. What I don't understand is why it took me so long to figure this out. I love my routine but I've learned to really love rearranging that routine.

Rearrange something today and love it. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

I feel like I've finally started to regain my morning meditation practice. At least I'm more consistent in my practice than I have been in a long time. Each day, I study one of the yoga sutras and then use it as my mantra. I chant the sanskrit version of the sutra and listen to the way my tongue trips over the combination of letters. I could probably use a lesson in sanskrit. Also, I think my attempt to speak in a foreign tongue brings out my Oklahoma twang. I'm the yoga version of Eleanor Beardsley. I thought the time change would work in my favor with the whole morning meditation thing. I usually (begrudgingly) get up at 5:30 every morning so I have time for a meditation practice and a good breakfast. That 5:30 AM should have gotten easier with setting the clocks back an hour. Instead, I find myself waking up around 4 and feeling my eyes droop around 8:30 in the evenings. My internal clock has decided to not acknowledge Daylight Savings. And I'm OK with that. It worked in my favor Tuesday morning because I was able to do all my usual morning things and still make it to the polls by 7 AM.

That morning I sat down to do my meditation practice and opened my Yoga Sutra book to that day's sutra. It was sutra I.11: Memory retains living experience. In the discussion, it talked about how in Ayurvedic medicine, memory's well spring is in the heart. "The more one loves, the better one remembers".

I want to remember everything.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I'm just like anyone else. I watch TV and movies. After years of seeing New York City featured as a backdrop to countless TV shows and movies, you get an impression of what that city should be like. The magic of New York City is that the first time you visit it, it is that impression and it isn't. You'll recognize places and images and then you'll discover places and images that are completely new. You will have that typical "rude" New Yorker moment at least one time, but for the most part your encounters will be pleasant. New York City is just like you see it on TV, but then it's not. After that first visit, you realize that it's better than the TV impression you had.

When you grow up in tornado alley, you tend to make light of the weather. I admit that I wasn't really paying attention to hurricane Sandy until I heard that it was headed for New York, and even then I wasn't all that concerned. I was talking to Talaura while she was holed up with her friend Gretchen, weathering out the storm, and I said that the Oklahoman in me would want to go outside and stand in it. Just to see what it was like. Talaura said that the only reason she hadn't was because there were more trees there and she was more likely to get beamed in head. Talaura's neighborhood was lucky and relatively unscathed. Same with Kizz and Amber. All safe and sound. And even though the city has sustained some damage, it's nothing that they can't recover from. Because if the people of New York know how to do anything, its rally.

I love that city. I love the bright lights. I love all the noise. I love that the minute you walk into Central Park, all that noise just disappears. I love the street vendors and the food carts. I love watching the dog walkers on 5th Ave. I even love how it makes me feel so insignificant with it's vastness. But most of all, I love it because it is home to some pretty special people in my life.

Please give or do what you can to help. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

I captured this picture of Chad and Jess with my phone as we were walking around Centennial Park.

It made something inside me twist up a bit because it reminded me of this.

I constantly worry about my friends. I worry that they are safe, that they find the home they are looking for, that they've made decisions that will make them happy. When I took that picture, I knew I didn't have to worry about these two because he looks at her the way Chris looked at me. And that smile on her face? That's the smile of someone who knows they are loved by someone very special. To witness this, made my heart swell. It made it crack just a little bit too. But that ache was soooo worth it to see them so happy.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

This time next week I will be in Atlanta GA. My senior year in HS (I think), All State Baptist Choir did this tour that took us to parts of Tennessee, Both Carolinas, and Georgia. I only remember bits and pieces of that trip because we never stayed in one place long enough to figure out where we were. I remember singing in a church that was so HUGE it had it's own Mardel's inside. I remember staying in dorm rooms that had no air conditioning and Julie Field's bed broke when she jumped on it. I remember one of our buses got in an accident with a motorcycle and I remember that we went to Six Flags. I know we saw virtually nothing of Atlanta (we may have sung at one of their massive Baptist churches but throw a rock in the south and you'll hit a massive Baptist church). The point being, I don't think I've ever really been to Atlanta. I am going to Atlanta to visit birdpony and his new bride Jess and I cannot wait. birdpony's presence in my life is proof of the power of the wonderful world of the internet. He is long lost family (not really) that I never would have known without the internet and I don't think even he realizes just how important he is to me, particularly this year. I've never met Jess in the flesh, but it doesn't matter. Whether she likes it or not she is now part of the tribe and I look forward to squeezing her neck (in love..not murder) and celebrating their nuptials with a Happily Ever After Party. There will be sights seen, breakfasts consumed (we share a love of breakfast foods...it is the most important meal after all), ashes scattered at the ho-ho trees (I tried to find a link for that, you'll just have to wait until I get back to explain), and general laughing and merriment.

Also, birdpony celebrated a birthday this week. When I first got my new phone, he made me get this Walkie-Talkie app. I told him that I would never record a voice message to him because the sound of my voice sets my teeth on edge. He sends me voice messages all the time and I just laugh and laugh, but I never reciprocate. Until his birthday. I whisper sang "Happy Birthday" to him (I didn't want people to hear me). He said it was not weird at all (translation: it was weird). I know I'll have tons of stories when I get back, but I'm making these two my Love Thursday entry today. Because how amazing and special is it that these two people in a state so far from mine are in my life? I tell you it's pretty awesome stuff.

Y'all (I'm preparing my Atlanta accent) be sure to wish the birdpony a happy belated birthday. And have a wonderful Love Thursday!

Side note: That's the only decent picture of birdpony that I have and he's entering vagina doors. Nice.

LOVE THURSDAY

It started Monday after our walk. Hooper's back legs collapsed as he was trying to get up the front steps. I had to carry him up the steps and then for the rest of the evening, he'd struggle so hard while trying to get up off the floor, I'd have to go help him. This coming right on the heals of Suebob's story of having to say goodbye to her Goldie made my whole being sink. I made an appointment for us to see the vet to see what our next course of action should be. The good news is that Hooper is relatively healthy. His heart sounded good. He's eating and pooping normally. The vet was very optimistic. He started Hooper on some anti-inflammatory drugs and drew blood for a whole geriatric work up. He thinks Hooper may have a hyper thyroid issue, but that's easily dealt with. The bad news is that Hooper has a growth on his back leg. The vet thinks it's most likely a fat deposit from the thyroid issue, but it needs to come out. I told the vet about our year of deaths starting with Chris in February. I made my 62 year old grissly veterinarian get all choked up. He said "Well, then...we need to keep this dog around for a little while longer". Yes sir, we do.

Hooper is thirteen. By one chart on the vet's wall, that makes him 82 years old. He's not doing too bad for an old man and there's no reason that he won't be around with us for another couple of years. The other night, I watched him go bounding across the backyard after a squirrel. He's still got some spry left in him. I love that stupid mutt.

Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Last week Misti posted something on her facebook page about a night of bad dreams. What's weird is that all last week I fought demons in my sleep. There's a line in a Belly song that goes like this: "I had bad dreams. So bad I threw my pillow away". That song played in my head every morning to a point were I really thought about throwing out my pillow. Would that really fix things? Maybe. Who knows? But I suddenly became super aware of how many people I know, including myself, who struggle to get a good night's sleep. Every night I set my alarm with the intention of getting up early enough to do my meditation practice before breakfast and every morning I end up hitting the snooze to squeeze in an extra twenty minutes of sleep. I am still an early bird. I'm just not the earliest bird and I've been struggling with this. So I decided to flip things around. This week I started meditating before bed time and I've been using the yoga sutras for a mantra starting with the first sutra. I have it on the Life List to memorize the yoga sutras and there's something soothing in chanting them in their sanskrit form. But I've also noticed that it's helping to clear out all the gobble-d-gook in my brain. I used to shuffle off to bed only because it was what I felt was my bed time and then lay there, eyes wide open. The physical act of going to bed had become a habit, a script. So I changed the script.

The other night I dreamed of making cookies. Nothing fancy. No shapes or sparkly icing. Just a good old fashioned chocolate chip cookie. I recognized that I was dreaming about making these cookies and thought "Oh! What a good idea!". So then my brain flipped over to making a list of things I would need to make the cookies. I could see each item I would need so clearly. Butter, probably a new thing of baking powder, chocolate chips. It was all so vivid and clear and I woke up the next day knowing that I would bake chocolate chip cookies this weekend. I can't remember the last time I baked chocolate chip cookies and that means it's been too long.

I think the new script is working. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

I realized today that September is already almost over (it's not...I just feel like it is). A friend and I where talking about this special thing that's being shipped to my house on the 28th (you have to wait for that story) and I said "That's next Friday!" and he was like "yeah...this year is almost over". I looked at him and asked if he thought next year would be better than this year. He looked at me in all seriousness and said "yes". The Cindy on the outside smiled a warm smile and repeated his yes, but the Cindy on the inside crumpled to the floor in a heap of tears of relief that maybe, just maybe this was possible. It felt like the realization of the nearing of the end of September shoved the ball down the hill. I can swirl my arms around and see in the coming weeks visits from friends and trips to see friends and new adventures with new friends. I suddenly feel like I'm being shoved forward into the front of the mosh pit and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. I don't know if this feeling happens every time Fall comes swooshing in or this is the first time I've noticed it. Maybe it's the first time I've noticed it. It's more than just a change of season. I haven't quite put my finger on what it is exactly, but it's definitely a feeling of things in motion, a feeling that something's going to happen. Something good.

I'm slightly in love with this anticipation right now. I usually get anxious over anticipating anything new, good or bad. I fret about how to make the good things better and how to fix the bad stuff. I'm always trying to figure out how to fix something for someone other than me. How can I make it better? After Chris's final diagnosis this need to fix things went into overdrive. Even though I knew what was coming, I thought maybe if did enough research and worked hard enough I could fix this. And even though Chris knew that all my efforts where futile, he went along with it not because he believed in any of it, but because he knew that I needed to believe it. This moment right now is different. I don't feel the need to fix or improve. There is not that constant bubble of panic sitting just to the right of my heart. There is only a slight buzzing of excitement, a tension in my limbs like a well strung harp. There is only the anticipation of the enjoyment to be had.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

Something happens to the sun this time of year. I call it September sun. The sun changes from this red-orange fire ball to a warm yellow globe. It's crisp against the blue sky. I noticed Sunday, while hanging clothes on the line, the way the sun filters down through the leaves is even different. Remember that scene in Pollyanna where she becomes enamored with the crystal sun catchers on that old lady's chandelier? It's like that. The sun moves through the leaves just like it does through the crystals. It is a cooler, dryer sun. This September sun reminds me to move in a cooler direction. I've been battling with anger this week. I've been angry at all things. I know that this is part of something bigger than wrecked plans and missing iPad apps and the newest batch of poison ivy on my arm (I can't do yard work). But I've channeled the anger into these little things because they're easier targets. That crisp sparkly sun reminds me that it's time to let go of the fiery orange red sun of summer that I've been holding onto on the inside. It's a reminder to finally declare it to be Fall and to change with the season.

It's also a reminder to stop and notice and be aware of that crisp yellow sparkly sun. A reminder to see that it is different, finding those differences and seeing the beauty in it. Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

Misti said that Labor Day weekend was like a beacon at the end of a long dark tunnel. I couldn't have agreed more. It wasn't because I needed a vacation. My weekends have been pretty laid back and care free since my return from New York. No...I needed my tribe. I needed to sit in Misti's backyard and drink and laugh with friends. I needed brunch with Margaret and Philip and Robin. I needed to lounge on Traci's couch while Juno licked me to death and Quinn wandered around with his Green Bay (I think that's the team) football helmet on. That boy had Pokemon playing on the computer in one room and Deadliest Warrior in the other room and was keeping up with both. I needed to add a person to my tribe (yes, Michael that would be you) and eat special salsa, now for ever really named burn-your-face-off salsa. I feel I've been very isolated lately, spending a lot of time in my own head. Probably too much time. Things will happen and it all gets stored in there somewhere and then I forget to take them out and share them. I was sitting on Misti's couch when I said "last month, I got a massage from a guy missing a tooth" and Misti looked at me with a signature Misti look and said "why has this story not been blown up all over the internet?". I don't know. It didn't even occur to me until the words "missing a tooth" came out of mouth (ha) that this was something that actually had happened for real and not just in my head. Yup, that massage therapist was missing a tooth. That happened. I don't mind spending so much time in my own head, but there comes a time when you need to use actual words and an actual voice.

I realize that I need human interaction from time to time. I may joke to some that most of my friends are on the internet, but it's true. I type words and communicate with friends every day online, but being able to see them face to face, hug their necks and hear their laughter is like a healing balm to the soul.

Happy Love Thursday.

LOVE THURSDAY

I had a completely different entry written for today, but I erased it after my trip to the DMV. This was my fourth attempt at getting the tag for the scooter and I finally succeeded. The scooter is now a legal resident of MO and this qualifies it for a Love Thursday entry because I have been unable to legally ride my Vespa for a month now. The first attempt at the DMV failed because I didn't have the title signed and notarized. Also, the title is in dad's name and needed to be transferred. So I mailed the title back to dad, had him sign the front and back (like I was told) and notarize it. On my second trip to the DMV, I was told I needed a release of the lean notice. Dad had to have the company send him one and this took three weeks because it just took them that long and there was a lost in the mail moment. On the third attempt, I found out that we were not supposed to sign the back of the title and that we would need signed affidavits from both parties (me and dad). And finally, on my fourth trip, they decided I'd suffered enough and gave me my tag. There was a tense moment when the girl was looking at the notarization on the title and was beginning to doubt the validity of that notarization. This is when I understood why she was behind bullet proof glass. But then a supervisor said it was all good and there was no tears or bloodshed.

I have missed my scooter desperately. I would see people drive by on their scooters and my heart would sink. I'd think "that could be me. I could be out zipping around on my scooter". I'd drive by the motorcycle parking at work and frown because I wouldn't be parking there. My cute little scooter would not be nestled in among the big motorcycles when I came out at the end of the day. Each attempt at the DMV I'd think that this was it. I'd think "I'm finally getting that tag" and then I'd leave the DMV empty handed and think I am never getting that tag.

Today, I rode my scooter. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Tuesday afternoon I received a call from security asking me to come down to the security desk for a minute. I hesitantly said "um...OK". I think the security guard felt a little guilty at this point so he said that they had a delivery for me downstairs. As I made my way down to the front desk, I tried to figure out who and what would be sent to the security desk for me to pick up and why didn't it just come through the regular mail. When I reached security I saw my dad sitting there and realized I'd been set up. Dad was on a drive to North Dakota (the places this man goes) and he stopped by to have dinner with me and bring me some old black and white pictures he found of some of our beagle puppies. We spent some time gushing over the cuteness of those puppies. I could have kept every single one of them. Beagle puppies are the cutest because they grow into hardheaded stubborn dogs that require a huge amount of patience and training. Nature makes them cute so you won't kill them. That being said, I still would have kept every single one of those puppies. This entry isn't even about those puppies, but look how they've distracted me.

Any way, at one point in our visit, I mentioned to Dad that if someone gave me lots of money, I'd pay to have someone dig out my driveway and have a new garage built below my current one and make the current garage into a screened in porch. Then Dad told me this story. He said he had an uncle who started digging under his house with a spoon. He dug a little bit every day. Dad said he didn't know what his uncle did with the dirt, but eventually he excavated a large area and built a garage just like I was talking about. I looked at dad and said "with a spoon?!". That's when he confessed that his uncle started digging with the spoon, but moved on to a shovel. So maybe my great uncle didn't actually Shawshank Redemption himself into a new garage after all.

Dad tells the best stories. Happy Love Thursday!

LOVE THURSDAY

My first instinct when I sat down to write today's Love Thursday was to say "Love Thursday can suck it". But then I remembered that I never told you the story about the guy who balances things. I mean real things, not life stuff or metaphorical crap. While I was in New York (I know, get over it) Talaura, Kizz and I went to see a burlesque circus act on Broadway called Spiegelworld. Every time I go to any kind of circus show I leave convinced that I should run away and join the circus. Have you ever seen The Greatest Show On Earth? As gritty and scary as that life looked at times, I kind of wanted it. I wanted to be that girl that spun in the hoop while hanging from a strap around her neck. I still do. Spiegelworld had plenty of flipping and flying daring acts. There was one act where this guy tossed a kid around with his feet like the kid was a freakin' beach ball. I almost threw up for the kid. But my favorite act was the guy who balanced palm fronds. It doesn't sound too spectacular, but it was mesmerizing. He moved so calmly, so slow. I felt as though I barely breathed as he built this crazy mobile frond by frond. It was though I didn't breath so that he could. It's the one thing I could really hear, this deep calm even yoga breath. He literally stole my breath in order to give himself a deeper, calmer breath. Some times it seemed like he was whispering with each exhale. Whispering pleas to each frond to stay still. I was hypnotized.

He balanced the fronds one by one until he had only one large palm frond left. And he stopped. Or so it seemed. He paused to a point where it seemed like he was done. Like he felt he'd done enough even though there was one palm frond left lying there on stage.

And it was at this point you could feel the disappointment coming off the audience in waves. It didn't matter that what he'd built was already spectacular. Because we could see that there was one left. We could see it right there on the stage. Yes, it's all so amazing, but he hasn't used that last piece. And just when you thought he just wasn't going to use the last one...

He did.

Patience. Happy Love Thursday.