Top line: Life sucks, especially when it's my own fault.
------------------
The walls cave in.
But I am the one who pushed them down.
The fire burns me.
But I am the one who started it and keep it burning.
My grave gets deeper.
But I am the one who is digging it.
My heart bleeds.
But I am the one who cut it.
-----------------
Bottom line: Life sucks, especially when it's my own fault.
12.27.2008
12.24.2008
Family Matters 2
"Welcome to Alan Brothers' Stone Engraving. How may I help you?" The man stood behing the marble counter with blue binders of endless samples stacked on top.
The couple walked into the store a bit apprehensive. Their eyes wandered throughout the relatively small corner store. They seemed unaware that the salesclerk was talking to them. As they approached the counter, the woman became aware of the clerk's presence.
"Oh! Sorry. Yes, I do think that we need help." The couple smiled at each other with slight embarrassment.
"What exactly are you needing engraved today?" the clerk asked.
The woman looked at the man, as if to say she wanted him to do the talking. "Ummm....well, brick. We are going to be putting it in a walkway-sidewalk thing. We would like our names and wedding date engraved into the brick," the man explained.
"Okay, that's a good start. Do you have the brick already or are needing to buy that through us also?"
"Oh, we have the brick," the man replied, pointing at his wife's purse. She reached into her bag and pulled it out.
"Yes, it's righ--" she began.
"O, it's not necessary that I see it at this point." The clerk cut her off. "We first have to decide what font and size and finishing. Why don't we have a seat right over there," he said, pointing across the store to a dim-lit corner, opposite to where they were standing now. He took several of the blue binders with him to the table. The chairs were simple office chairs, blue in color, and maple for the arm rests and legs of the chair. The couple sat, waiting for the clerk to get his paperwork situated. The clerk turned on an over-head light. "Let's start with a font. Did you have any type of idea of what you wanted?" the clerk inquired.
The man opened his mouth as if to start to explain what they wanted, but the lady cut him short. "Oh, yes. I've some idea of what I want. I want a kind of Victorian-cursive style handwriting font, not too big on the brick, but I still want it readable." She spoke quickly, without taking a breath.
The clerk flipped through the first binder and pushed the others aside. "Okay," his voice dragged out while he was still flipping through the thick pages. He stopped, stared intently at one page, and kept turning the pages. He sat up straight. Turning back to that initial page, he exclaimed, "I think I've found the perfect one!" He turned the binder to show the couple.
"Oh, that IS perfect. Isn't it, Darrel?" she looked at her husband for assurance, smiling sweetly, as if it would sway his decision.
"Oh, yes. It's absolutely lovely, dear. Yes, let's go with that one...if you want to," the man said, staring back at his wife, and then at the clerk, with a little nervousness showing in his eyes.
"Okay, I'll just mark this one down on my little paper here," the clerk said as he searched around for his tablet of paper, "...if I ever find it, that is. Hahaha."
The lady sat, waiting patiently, staring at her husband...who was instead looking at the samples in the binder. He stared at the same page for a while, but then starting flipping through the book. He looked at every page; then, leaning over to his wife, he whispered, "I don't see a price anywhere!"
"Darrel, stop worrying about the price!" she apprehended. "It's for 'us'; it's priceless."
The couple walked into the store a bit apprehensive. Their eyes wandered throughout the relatively small corner store. They seemed unaware that the salesclerk was talking to them. As they approached the counter, the woman became aware of the clerk's presence.
"Oh! Sorry. Yes, I do think that we need help." The couple smiled at each other with slight embarrassment.
"What exactly are you needing engraved today?" the clerk asked.
The woman looked at the man, as if to say she wanted him to do the talking. "Ummm....well, brick. We are going to be putting it in a walkway-sidewalk thing. We would like our names and wedding date engraved into the brick," the man explained.
"Okay, that's a good start. Do you have the brick already or are needing to buy that through us also?"
"Oh, we have the brick," the man replied, pointing at his wife's purse. She reached into her bag and pulled it out.
"Yes, it's righ--" she began.
"O, it's not necessary that I see it at this point." The clerk cut her off. "We first have to decide what font and size and finishing. Why don't we have a seat right over there," he said, pointing across the store to a dim-lit corner, opposite to where they were standing now. He took several of the blue binders with him to the table. The chairs were simple office chairs, blue in color, and maple for the arm rests and legs of the chair. The couple sat, waiting for the clerk to get his paperwork situated. The clerk turned on an over-head light. "Let's start with a font. Did you have any type of idea of what you wanted?" the clerk inquired.
The man opened his mouth as if to start to explain what they wanted, but the lady cut him short. "Oh, yes. I've some idea of what I want. I want a kind of Victorian-cursive style handwriting font, not too big on the brick, but I still want it readable." She spoke quickly, without taking a breath.
The clerk flipped through the first binder and pushed the others aside. "Okay," his voice dragged out while he was still flipping through the thick pages. He stopped, stared intently at one page, and kept turning the pages. He sat up straight. Turning back to that initial page, he exclaimed, "I think I've found the perfect one!" He turned the binder to show the couple.
"Oh, that IS perfect. Isn't it, Darrel?" she looked at her husband for assurance, smiling sweetly, as if it would sway his decision.
"Oh, yes. It's absolutely lovely, dear. Yes, let's go with that one...if you want to," the man said, staring back at his wife, and then at the clerk, with a little nervousness showing in his eyes.
"Okay, I'll just mark this one down on my little paper here," the clerk said as he searched around for his tablet of paper, "...if I ever find it, that is. Hahaha."
The lady sat, waiting patiently, staring at her husband...who was instead looking at the samples in the binder. He stared at the same page for a while, but then starting flipping through the book. He looked at every page; then, leaning over to his wife, he whispered, "I don't see a price anywhere!"
"Darrel, stop worrying about the price!" she apprehended. "It's for 'us'; it's priceless."
12.23.2008
Family Matters 1
It was all she needed. But not all she wanted.
_________
"More orange juice, ma'am?"
"No, thank you. I'm good for now," she said, still staring at the man across the table from her. He was a simpleton. He wore clothes of a simple nature. In all areas of his life, he was simple. Even in financial dealings.
"You know, you should have just ordered water. It doesn't cost a darned thing and it's free refills," the simple man said deliberately at the lady, who now sat upright in the booth.
"Why do you care so much about money? It's been handed to you all your life! You don't have a care in the world," the lady snapped back, insulted by the man. She adjusted her skirt plainly.
"You've always been this way, Lisa. I still have all that money because I am frugal."
"Oh! 'Frugal' you say? Hardly! You're just a cheap man. Always have been. I mean, after all, who paid for our first date?....Huh?"
"Why are you always bringing up our past? You know I hate talking about it!" He sat for a few brief moments, calming himself down. He had managed to get quite worked up and angry about the whole conversation. Now calm, he spoke again, "We're here for business today, anyway. We needn't bring up our relationship. Business, Lisa...Business."
_________
"More orange juice, ma'am?"
"No, thank you. I'm good for now," she said, still staring at the man across the table from her. He was a simpleton. He wore clothes of a simple nature. In all areas of his life, he was simple. Even in financial dealings.
"You know, you should have just ordered water. It doesn't cost a darned thing and it's free refills," the simple man said deliberately at the lady, who now sat upright in the booth.
"Why do you care so much about money? It's been handed to you all your life! You don't have a care in the world," the lady snapped back, insulted by the man. She adjusted her skirt plainly.
"You've always been this way, Lisa. I still have all that money because I am frugal."
"Oh! 'Frugal' you say? Hardly! You're just a cheap man. Always have been. I mean, after all, who paid for our first date?....Huh?"
"Why are you always bringing up our past? You know I hate talking about it!" He sat for a few brief moments, calming himself down. He had managed to get quite worked up and angry about the whole conversation. Now calm, he spoke again, "We're here for business today, anyway. We needn't bring up our relationship. Business, Lisa...Business."
12.22.2008
Greenville [Documented]
[above]: truck driving from Greenville to Charlotte
[above]: self on roadtrip
[above]: what I ordered from Blueberry Frog, a frozen yogurt place
[above]: some old man during the BJU chapel
[above]: self-portrait and sister
[above and below]: some statues in Downtown Greenville, SC
[above]: inside the Mast General Store in Greenville
[above]: Giuli and I at Sonic
Is it Christmas?
We've all heard of the song "Where are You, Christmas?" Although, I could never really relate well to that there song. But, this Christmas I can say so. It all started, or rather ended, on the day after Thanksgiving, formally known as "Black Friday."
I resented Black Friday and vowed not to go shopping...but just because that's what everybody else was doing. I didn't want Christmas to be all about the shopping this year. And it isn't.
As of today the 22nd, I have done NONE of my Christmas shopping.
Our house is not decorated with endless Christmas decor, as it has been every other year past.
We do not have a Christmas tree and probably will not get one. (This is in part because of our dog who is a destroyer of everything.)
Baking Christmas cookies? That's unheard of this year.
The only thing that tells of Christmas is the snow outside and the Christmas letters we receive from friends.
I do not have the "Christmas Spirit".
I wonder if this is usual behavior. Well, obviously it's not usual for me, but rather unusual. But I wonder if it will become usual. I do not want it to though.
I almost feel guilty for not feeling "Christmas-y" this year. I instead feel very lax and mellow; unlike all the countless others who are frantically shopping and whatnot.
So, with having said that, I wonder if I have indeed mastered the Christmas spirit of relaxing and pondering Christ's birth, instead of focusing on gifts and shopping and decorating.
But I don't know. We'll see what next year brings.
Superglued Fingertips in an In-home Jewelry Shop
Superglued fingertips are a result of fusing together...
1] yellow polkadotted fabric + button + metal = a ring
2] magnet + metal = another ring
3] button + hair clip = trendy hair clip
4] part of the strap of the j crew bag + safety pin = a shirt pin
5] button + squiggley metal + bobby pin = hair pin
6] magnet + big button + bobby pin = big hair pin
7] button + white string + safety pin = shirt pin
8] bottle cap + button + bobby pin = epic hair pin
Yes, these are my creations.
Today, I woke up and said, "Today is the day I make something beautiful."
Winter Day Nostalgia
slow motion snow days.
silent snow days.
frustration much with interent.
tire chains.
bumble and bumble.
black and white.
fragmented thoughts.
sunday mornings on ipod.
aroma of bacon.
tried once.
tried twice.
tried thrice.
tried fice.
simple.
foreign language learning.
spotlight searching.
forgetting photographs.
turtle slow.
antique pearls around neck.
beloved's voice on the telephone.
on the 18th floor balcony.
pin up dolls.
catching football.
gibson guitar.
polkadot kneesocks.
open the wardrobe.
deer and gorilla.
bee's apple.
flapping tongues.
baking ovens.
shoe store and the blueberry tree.
232.
broken vase on carpet.
happy go lucky.
leo-pards in leo-tards.
fratello.
night vision.
kenny.
garden of eden.
laughing with family.
snow angels.
flashlights.
candlesticks.
3 piano keys.
pen in hand.
nat king cole.
snowflakes on tongue.
mittens on hands.
flannel against skin.
charcoal tones.
reading sunday comics around imaginary fireplace.
hot chocolate and tea mugs.
kittens and mittens.
aids awareness.
plane tickets.
unemployment.
hotel guests.
drumsticks.
youtube videos.
molasses cookies on christmas plates.
disney princesses.
1st and 10.
winter day nostalgia.
silent snow days.
frustration much with interent.
tire chains.
bumble and bumble.
black and white.
fragmented thoughts.
sunday mornings on ipod.
aroma of bacon.
tried once.
tried twice.
tried thrice.
tried fice.
simple.
foreign language learning.
spotlight searching.
forgetting photographs.
turtle slow.
antique pearls around neck.
beloved's voice on the telephone.
on the 18th floor balcony.
pin up dolls.
catching football.
gibson guitar.
polkadot kneesocks.
open the wardrobe.
deer and gorilla.
bee's apple.
flapping tongues.
baking ovens.
shoe store and the blueberry tree.
232.
broken vase on carpet.
happy go lucky.
leo-pards in leo-tards.
fratello.
night vision.
kenny.
garden of eden.
laughing with family.
snow angels.
flashlights.
candlesticks.
3 piano keys.
pen in hand.
nat king cole.
snowflakes on tongue.
mittens on hands.
flannel against skin.
charcoal tones.
reading sunday comics around imaginary fireplace.
hot chocolate and tea mugs.
kittens and mittens.
aids awareness.
plane tickets.
unemployment.
hotel guests.
drumsticks.
youtube videos.
molasses cookies on christmas plates.
disney princesses.
1st and 10.
winter day nostalgia.
12.10.2008
Frames of the Road
The road curves. I turn with it.
The music is loud. I sing louder.
I roll the window down.
The wind blows. My hair flies in the air.
My eyes shift. This way and that,
Everywhere but on the road,
Only on the frames.
The music is loud. I sing louder.
I roll the window down.
The wind blows. My hair flies in the air.
My eyes shift. This way and that,
Everywhere but on the road,
Only on the frames.
Out of the corner of my eye I see:
Figures dancing in the streets.
Trees dancing in the breeze.
Lurking shadows.
Sun setting behind the mountains.
Traffic.
Only on the frames.
[HALT]: Red Light.
My foot slams the pedal.
My breaks screech.
The music is silent...
The dancing stops...
The wind ceases...
But only for a moment.
[GO]: Green Light.
Music blaring.
Eyes wandering, seeing:
Figures dancing.
Trees dancing.
Lurking shadows.
Sun setting behind the mountains.
Only on the frames.
All these things that my eyes are attracted to
[frame] the road:
The people.
The places.
[Frames]
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