This Road of Mine

Winter is not my season. It's not warm. It's not hot. It's cold. It's even been known to be very cold. Like today. And it's not even winter yet. The only thing I like about winter is hot chocolate, coffee, my two sets of fleece sheets, my three sets of flannel sheets, my thick fleece throw, my fleece-lined leggings, the car's super wonderful heat, my portable heater (I have three, its a big house), hot tea, soup... get it? Anything hot or warm. Most anybody who knows me knows that I don't go many hours in the winter without talking about how winter is - just - not - my season. I'm that girl in the "Boys of Summer" song. (singing = You can see me - my brown skin shinin' in the sun - I got my hair combed back - sunglasses on baby.. .) enjoy song here But things have been strange lately (like the last few years). When I go outside in the cold winter air, unless its windy and bitter - winters aren't so bad.  It's almost neve

I stay alive because: Of quiet morning drives to work, the fresh new baby day ahead of me, deep summer-green leaves all around me - reminding me that life is so temporary, so fragile, so very vibrant at times. I stay alive because: I let soulful eyes meet mine every day, some full of joy, some full of pain, some full of such great hope that maybe, maybe somebody loves them. I love them. I love you. I do. I stay alive because: Chocolate cake, and sautéed spinach, and morning coffee, and good music, and thought provoking movies, and soul touching conversations, and sitting at my favorite window looking out into the very alive world and sometimes the very quiet world, and the smell of morning, and old/new/good friends, and Sundays, and pretty things, and being put to sleep by the moon at my window and being awakened by the sun tap dancing on my face, and my sweet love showering me with sweet feelings are all just too irresistible to not want more of here in this lit

Don't get mad. I think you might get a little mad, but I've got a truth to tell. I didn't always love Maya Angelou's writing.  It was just "okay" to me.  I loved some other author's works much much more than hers. I guess I liked make believe at the time more than I cared for a truthful story. Spin me a tale, entertain me - that's what I wanted. Maya didn't serve flowers. Just raw truth. But I bought and read her books because as a proper English Major I am supposed to and they look good among the other authors of the black canon section on display in my well-loved and cherished bookcase. Don't judge me... However, I LOVED Maya.  I LOVED Maya's presence.  I loved loved loved the moment she opened her mouth to talk. (Even when her long thoughtful pauses kinda annoyed me cause it turns out I'm not terribly patient.) Maya was: So Calm. So Regal. So Wise. So Patient.  So Beautiful.   So Dignified.

I really feel like writing again. I really feel like writing blog posts that reflect me and my point of view. So I'm here. Ready and willing. Awesome Mac keyboard right here ready to tap it out (apple has THE best keyboards). One problem: I really have zero ideas right now. None. I don't know what to say. You can help me, you three people of this page! Help me! Give me a topic. Nothing political (only because I've nothing to say). Religious if you dare, go ahead, I dare ya. Ask a rhetorical-like question. Awaken my foggy, cob-webby brain won't ya. Please don't make me write another blog post about the glorious wonders of coffee, because I will, but there's gotta be more to life than coffee,,yes?.   Hurry. Do it now. Please and thank you....

Crap. I just got ANOTHER reminder today that after all of this time of knowing better, that I am still doing this silly crap. I have this habit/problem of putting people I look up to on pedestals. It always bites me in the hardheaded butt. Always!  I just forget and forget and forget that every human being on this planet is just a human with their own stupid stuff. Just like me. I forget that I am magnificent also, just the way I am, stupid stuff and all. But I don't want to be on anyone's pedestal. Ever. Cause I fall sometimes.  I stumble a lot, but I REALLY FALL sometimes.  I am not known for the little mistakes. I tend to make BLUNDERS! Big Fat OOPSIES!!!! Don't judge me though. I do tons right. My intentions (except for that thing I did last week), are usually good.  I wanna be there for you. I wanna listen to you without thinking of me. I wanna be on time and on point and on the money all the time. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. But please no more pe