Most likely you followed the link from my first, fifth or fourteenth page of Random Thoughts stories. And, as always, your comments are appreciated.
Her name is Evelyn Joy. I think it's a beautiful name, but sometimes I wish I hadn't saddled her with an old lady name. Ninety nine per cent of Evelyn's are over 70. I don't like when people call her Evie either. I kind of wish she'd call herself EJ, maybe because I knew someone in Memphis who used that and I liked her a lot. I call her Pink most of the time.
She's planning on moving to New Orleans soon. She's been out of college for almost three years, so it's about time. She's thought it out carefully and has money enough saved to take care of her for a while if it's necessary. I wish she'd move closer to me, but maybe I'll just have to move closer to her.
The night Evelyn was born was the first time I knew what love really is. Nothing can prepare you for the miracle of birth, when after nine months of growing from virtually nothing, you get to hold that living and breathing child that just came out your body. I looked at her face and I was a goner. I would have done and still would do anything to protect her or the boys.
Evelyn was a good baby who slept though the night from the beginning. My ex would go off to work and Evelyn would still be asleep, and I'd call him around 9 a.m. and tell him that and how I was terrified she'd died during her sleep. He'd say, go in and check on her, but I couldn't, but each time, she would wake up around then and my day would start. I remember when we moved her into the other bedroom so the new baby, who turned out to be Greg could have the room with the crib. We painted her room a bright and cheery yellow and I made window shades. I don't recall exactly how, but I was proud of them, since I'm not terribly craft-y. I don't remember her room in Germantown at all, and don't remember much about her room in Memphis. We'd bought her a used French provincial bedroom set when we moved south which she still has in her room in Minneapolis. She won't be taking that to New Orleans, at least not at first but most likely not at all.
Evelyn was a precocious little girl and started talking in complete sentences around eighteen months old. One time we were out with one of my friends, Susan, her son and her mother and even though her son was six months older than Evelyn, he didn't talk much and Susan's mother was terribly impressed with my daughter. I loved dressing her up in Florence Eiseman dresses and I even learned how to smock so she'd be like the other girls in school and church. Being the first child, there are hundreds more pictures of her than the boys. I remember taking whole rolls of film at a time of her, just to catch different expressions. I have one when she got her first kiss from a boy. She had to be 2 or so.
She started preschool at two at a Montesorri school in Minneapolis. When we moved to Memphis, I enrolled her in Lausanne school which was progressive but wasn't socially acceptable. I did apply for her to go to Hutchison, which was the girl's school to attend, but she did pre kindergarten and kindergarten at St. Mary's instead. Then I'd heard about Grahamwood school, and I was lucky enough to get her in there. It was a Memphis public school but very highly respected. She was in the program for gifted children, but actually, most of the children were. By the time Greg was ready for kindergarten, it was almost impossible to get into Grahamwood and having a sibling there didn't count, so I took her out and had we stayed in Memphis, she would have gone to a different magnet school.
Instead, she went to Creek Valley in Edina. I would have preferred to live in Minneapolis, but the schools in Edina was supposed to be so wonderful and it was August when we were looking and I didn't want to play games with magnet schools again. However, when it came time for high school, she went to Southwest and was in the international baccalaureate program because she needed something more challenging than Edina High School could offer her. Another situation where most of the kids were way above average in intelligence so she couldn't shine like she should have. I was so proud of her when she did receive the IB diploma.
Evelyn was always a sweet girl and never gave me a moment of worry. She didn't drink in high school, she did her homework, she was popular and she responsible. I was always proud of her and I still am today.
I hope Evelyn inherited my passion for volunteering. She used to get dragged to meetings or events with me when she was little. In her teens, I tried to encourage her to give to others. The experiences we shared as Care Partners will never be forgotten. Nor will the times we were at Kid's Café.
Some of the best times we had were when it was just us girls. There was our trip to New York City when she was ten. (see Promises Kept) And going to Montana to fly fish after high school and before I left Minnesota. (in my fishing diary) I drove out with her to Smith one year, and drove back with her after college. But the best one was when we took the Better than Ezra road trip. I even spent ten days in her dorm room with her at Smith, going to meals with her and her friends and even attending a class with her (see Back to School). When my mom drove up with me to Berkeley, I nearly pushed her out the door and sent her on her way. She drove out here with me when I moved from North Carolina. I'd flown to Minneapolis and we saw them in Houston, Austin, Phoenix and Las Vegas. This is her favorite band and over time I'd come to know and love many of their songs too. The fact that she wanted her mother with her at the shows meant a lot to me. I would have rather died than have my mother go with me. Not too long ago, she asked me about this restaurant we ate lunch at along the way, and finally I remembered it, what it looked like but not where it was. She was relieved I remembered the place because it was driving her nuts that she couldn't place it.
I love Evelyn and am so proud of her as she plans this new part of her life. Evelyn was always a sweet girl and never gave me a moment of worry. She didn't drink in high school, she did her homework, she was popular and she responsible. She's bright and pretty and friendly and usually a pleasure to be around. Of course she has her moments when I want to strangle her. And I'm sure I embarrassed her enough times. I've been told we are so much alike, and in many ways we are. Whatever I did in raising her was right and I am so glad because besides being my daughter, she is one of my best friends and I hope she feels the same way about me.
© 24 March 2004I took a bath today for the first time in a long time. Don't get me wrong; I bathe. I'm a clean person but I take showers normally. And at the last minute today, I considered taking a shower, but decided to take a bath. I had the tub half full when the phone rang and it was my daughter, so I went to talk to her. I stopped the water filling the tub and when we were done, finished running my bath. I went into the other bathroom, got my towels and bathed.
I put in some funny smelling juniper powder that was supposed to give me a clearer sense of focus when I was done. Usually I use flowery scented bubble bath, but somewhere I'd gotten this stuff so I thought I'd use it, and I guess it was ok. It was relaxing and my skin was soft when I got out of the tub. I don't know if my focus is any clearer though. I soaked for a good twenty minutes and then got out. My tub has a Jacuzzi, but I didn't use it this time. I really don't know why, other than I wasn't in the mood, I suppose.
Taking a bath reminds me of when I was a child and my mother would give me a bath. Probably my brother and I at the same time, but I don't remember. I don't think our house in Chicago had a showerhead, but it must have. It wasn't that long ago. We only had one bathroom in that house, for five people. We must have been poor
When we moved to California, I switched to showers. I don't remember a bathtub in that apartment so I would have had to shower. They're faster and use less water. I happen to wash myself first and then wash my hair. When I take a bath, I wash my hair first, so I don't run out of hot water. I bet you didn't want to know that, did you? Enough personal information for one day.
Of course there is the horrible memory all teen age girls have of having to shower after high school gym class. I think everyone took a 3 second shower with the towel just outside enough of the water to not get soaked. And that towel didn't cover enough and we were all self-conscious and got dressed again in 3 seconds. I haven't had to have a communal shower in a long time, so I don't know how I'd feel about it today. I'm in no hurry to find out, either.
When I was relaxing today, letting my mind wander to all sorts of places, I wondered if there had ever been any children that took baths in that tub. I'm not the original owner of this house, and I'm pretty certain all the other owners would have had grown children, but still, it could have been their grandchildren. I'll never know. I thought back to giving my children baths, from the first one I gave Evelyn in the little plastic tub and was terrified I'd do something wrong, to when they were older and didn't want mom in the bathroom with them. There was something so wondrous about bathing one's child, washing their small bodies that grew and changed daily, and I hated it when they felt they were too old for that. Maybe one day I'll have grandchildren I can give baths too, but it won't be the same. I'm also dreading the day when someone will have to give me a bath, because I'll be too old and feeble to take one myself. I hope that day never comes, but until then, a bath will be a special treat for me, a time to pamper myself and refocus.
© 24 July 2004I started a new jigsaw puzzle this afternoon. I love doing them, almost as much as I love to do crossword puzzles. I must believe these activities keep my mind alert. This one is a wintry picture at night, with illuminated buildings and skaters. Usually I like doing the old fashioned drawings of Charles Wysooki, but his puzzles cost two dollars more than Hometown Collection ones, so in an effort to save money, I'm doing one of those. Same style of art, different artist. There's another artist whose puzzles are even more, and I've never done one of hers.
I hate that they have made the boxes smaller. The pictures are smaller, and I'm getting older and it's harder on my eyes. I think if they're going to use these boxes, they should include a puzzle size picture inside. Not that anyone who works at puzzle companies care about my opinion.
There's something about opening the pasted shut box that is exciting. You trust all the pieces will be there. First you go through all the pieces looking for the end ones. No matter how carefully you do this, at least I never find them all the first go round. I look at the pieces, try to imagine ahead of time where they'll go. I went through the entire box one handful at a time and still I didn't get them all. I can tell because there is a piece of the flag I know I don't have. Sometimes I take out pieces of the buildings, people, etc and put them aside, but this time I didn't.
I started putting the border together but without all the end pieces and I got annoyed so I walked away from it for a little bit. To start writing this while the thoughts were clear in my mind. When I go back, in a few minutes, I'll start rifling through the other pieces and this time I will take out the building and people pieces. It's now a good half hour later and I'm missing four end pieces. I have most of the building and people pieces picked out, so I'd guess half the pieces are already on the table. Now to search for those end pieces. Every time I put a puzzle away, I think about putting the end pieces in a plastic bag, but I never do. That seems like cheating.
One end piece is still missing, but I have started to put the buildings together. This particular puzzle has two areas of buildings, some just have one very large one. Almost all of these puzzles have words on them, for businesses, and those are done too. After all the buildings are done I'll do the people. There are a number of them, either skating or making snowmen. It's funny to be doing a winter picture in the middle of summer.
Over the next few days, I'll put a few pieces in here and there. I'll get to the background pieces. The trees, water, in this case, snow. There are usually one or two pieces that I continually pick up and don't know exactly where they go, and when I finally put them in the puzzle I feel a small sense of accomplishment. One I know will be the blanket on one of the sleigh riders, I've already looked at that piece a good dozen times. I sometimes look at the same piece, hold it in my hand countless times without being able to fit it into the puzzle. That's when I always think who's going to know if I just put the puzzle away now, incomplete. So far, I have never done that. I'll just play with the pieces one by one as I watch tv, walk by, talk on the phone, till eventually it's all done. But I'll know, and it's not like me to not finish something I've started. That's the goal, to complete the task, no matter how long it takes.
© 26 July 2004The telephone was a regular household fixture when I was born, having been invented by Alexander Graham Bell in the late 1800's. The movie of his life has recently been shown on Fox Movie channel so I know it was really Don Ameche and Henry Fonda who invented the telephone for the beautiful but deaf Loretta Young. Bell was a teacher of the deaf as well as an inventor. The telephone has always been a part of my life, and I guess I thank Mr. Bell for it.
The telephone I remember in our house in Chicago was a standard black model, with a dial. I am trying to think about where in the house it was, but I can't picture it. In my grandparent's apartment, there was a little nook for a phone, and maybe there was in our house. I know we only had one. I don't know anyone who had extensions back in the early 50's. Probably only rich people. It was used to call family and friends, and only on very rare occasions to make a long distance call. They were very expensive back then and a luxury in my home.
Living in California when most of my relatives lived in Chicago still, long distance became a regular part of our phoning habits. Only you had to call on the weekends, when it was cheaper, unless it was an emergency. There used to be a lot of those, with my brother's health, but one call to Chicago would insure that everyone would know what was going on with us in Los Angeles. Back then too, there were zones, and it was more expensive to call my aunt in Santa Monica than it was to call someone in the same zone, so that had to be taken into consideration too. My mother had to watch every penny.
When I was fifteen I got my own phone, in my bedroom. My mom had to get me one, because as a typical teenager, I was on the phone with my girlfriends the minute I got home from school till I went to bed. I wanted a princess phone, but it was probably a little more expensive so I just got a regular model, but by then phones came in colors so maybe mine was white, to go with my bedroom furniture. I would lie on my bed and talk, giggle and share secrets with my friends. After I'd talk to one, I'd have to call the next to share what the first girl and I'd discussed. As did she, to a different friend. Everyone had to be kept up to date on the latest gossip and who had a crush on which boy.
When I was a junior in high school, I had a boy friend, so then I had to be sure I had complete privacy when I talked to him on the phone. I did with my girlfriends, but it wasn't as important. Heaven forbid my mother or brother should hear me say anything to Ken and later Frank, so I made sure the door was closed. Much of my teen-aged years were spent in my bedroom behind a closed door.
At Berkeley, I discovered the college radio station I volunteered at had free long distance. So I was able to call my mother whenever I wanted. It was nice to know whenever I felt I needed to talk to my mom, I could. She used to give me hugs over the phone, a custom I use now with my kids when they need my love. I learned about inter-network phoning, where all you had to dial was the other person's last four numbers, not the whole thing.
I wish I could remember my first phone number as a married woman, but I have no clue. Back then, the telephone company sent out a service man to install your phone, which they provided, and as often as we moved the first few years, connecting and disconnecting phone service got to be a habit. My ex knew how to install a second phone, which he picked up someplace, to use as an extension, so we pretty much always had two phones in the places we lived.
Then came cell phones. The old ones were about as big as a quart of milk and as heavy. My ex had to have one, like he had to have all new electronic gadgets. He wrote it off as a business expense. A few years later, I decided I wanted one. They were still large and heavy and expensive and I seldom used mine. It wasn't until I moved to Arizona that I wanted another one, and still I only used it sparingly. I now think about getting rid of my "real" phone, the land line as they're called, and just keeping the cell, but I still talk to my friends for too long sometimes, so I keep them both for now. My latest cell phone is small and lightweight and I take it with me everywhere. I think nothing of calling my friend in Florida just to say hi and talk. I never make long distance calls on my house phone, because on the cell phone there's no charge.
For the most part though, I hate the telephone. For too many years, all it brought me was bad news. I love caller ID so I can see who is calling and then decide to answer or not. Just this past weekend I wasn't able to be in touch with my children because of no cell service. It was very frustrating, because the phone is a necessary part of my life, as it is with most people. I was thrilled yesterday when I was again able to talk to them both and reassure myself everything was ok. Yes, I'm very glad someone invented the telephone even though it can often be a source of annoyance; it is also my link to my loved ones.
© 28 July 2004Here in Prescott, the Simpson's are on at 10 and 10:30 pm, so usually I go to sleep with them. I seldom can stay up for the second one, but my television has a sleep button so it's on even if I am sleeping. I've loved that show since the beginning, but lately, I don't think the newer ones are as good and don't make a point to watch them.
As dysfunctional as they are, the Simpson's have done just about everything in world you can do. They've traveled to foreign countries like Australia, Japan and in Africa. They've met famous people like former President George Bush, Ron Howard, Kim Bassinger and U2. They've experienced more than any real family ever would like entering the astronaut program, becoming manager to a country singer and being the mascot for the baseball team. They live in a big fancy house that they shouldn't be able to afford, they never get any older and how the heck does Marge's hair stay up?
They're supposed to be a pretty typical family, only yellow and with four fingers. There's a loveable but dumb dad who isn't happy at his job, a stay at home mom who holds everything together and the three not exactly perfect children. The parents are still in love, the kids weren't too rebellious, being only ten and eight and under two. Like my life used to be. Just wait a few more years, and if they actually grew up on the show, it would be a whole different ball game. Divorce court, juvenile hall, college tuition and teenage angst, here they come. There are assorted oddball relatives like a grandfather and some aunts, and lots of neighbors, some of which are regulars and some that get invented as the storyline calls for them.
My favorite all time episode is called Cape Fear. It's the one with Side Show Bob getting out of prison and threatening Bart's life and they go into the federal witness protection program. I love it when Homer asks who wants to drive through the cactus with Bob under the car. I could see the scene with the rakes a hundred times and it would still make me laugh. I think most of my favorites have Side Show Bob in them, because he's just so damn funny.
I always thought about what Greg might have chosen had he gotten the chance with the Make a Wish program. Should he have met a rock star, a hockey player, gone to Disneyworld? I thought about this years later, that for him to have immortality, he could have asked to be a guest voice on the Simpson's, because the show will be in reruns for eternity.
For the most part, the Simpson's is one of the funniest shows ever on television. They all have their catch phrases, which made me claim my own, but I can't type it here. I made a sound wave of it, if you want to hear it, just ask me for it. One time, Greg put a sound wav as the start up for his dad's lap top which was Homer saying, "Ohhhh, forbidden donut". My ex was in a business meeting and turned his computer on and was rather surprised as was everyone else when they heard that. The Simpson's have been a big part of my life for nearly fifteen years now and they have affected my life and the lives of my children in many ways. What would we be without them? Thank goodness I don't ever have to find out. Maybe I'll never be principal of the line, but doh! I'm not going to have a cow about it.
© 31 July 2004
Today is the 27th anniversary of the King of Rock and Roll's death. Turner Movie Classics channel is playing his movies all day long, but I'm not a big fan of his movies, so I'm not watching them. I don't remember where I was then, back in 1977, like I do when President Kennedy was shot, or other notables died. We moved to Chicago so my ex could start graduate school, so maybe we were driving there, or getting settled.
I love Elvis, always have. While I don't remember sitting all gaga in front of the TV back then like I do with the Beatles, I must have watched him on TV, from the waist above, of course. I have seen that clip many times on TV, so maybe that's what I remember. I do remember seeing the 1969 special when he played in all leather with just his band members but by then I thought he was passé.
The very first long-playing record I ever owned was by Elvis, It was just titled Elvis across the top and Presley printed down the side. My father bought it for me, so it is doubly special to me. I still own it. It had my favorite Elvis song, Blue Suede Shoes on it. That was my favorite back then, now it's Suspicious Minds. It's also one of Evelyn's favorite songs. I was five then, and played the record on this old Motorola record player my father had. I still have this, too. It's portable, and that too has special meanings for me. For the longest time, that was "my" record player and it went on to play all my 45s when I was a teenager.
When my ex was finishing up grad school, he had an interview with a company in Memphis. While he went to be interviewed, some of the wives met me and asked me what I wanted to see or do during my day there. I thought I'd never be back there, so of course I said what every other tourist says, I want to see Graceland. Their eyes rolled back, but since they were trying to impress me, off we went. I knew nothing about Memphis back then, so I didn't realize where it was in relation to the rest of the town. Back then, you couldn't tour the house, but it was enough to just stand in front of it, reveling in his magnificence. You couldn't really tell how small it was, since it sat a ways back from the street on a hill. I think they also took me to a shopping center.
How was I to know that three years later, we'd be moving to Memphis. Actually, to Germantown, the only suburb, which is where all us outsiders were corralled. Living there, I realized how far out from everything Graceland was. With all his money, he should have been living in a better section of town, but I can see where, to him, when he first got money, that Graceland would have seemed so grand. Actually, his house on Audubon was in a nicer neighborhood, but for a poor kid from the slums, it must have seemed like a mansion. Back when we moved there in 1982, there were dozens of souvenir shops and other tourist traps across the street. One time we went there, they were selling slippers with plastic heads of Elvis on the toes, and how I wish I had bought a pair back then, because now, they are considered too tacky to be sold.
My mom and I actually toured Graceland one of the times she visited us there. You park across the street, and take a shuttle bus through the famous gates with the musical notes. We got to see the public rooms like the Jungle Room, and then the trophy room and finally where he is buried. We saw his plane, the Lisa Marie, but didn't tour that because I think that cost extra. Graceland in person is a disappointment. It's not grand, it's not big and as most people know, it's decorated in absolutely white trash taste. None of that mattered however, as we viewed where Elvis had once sat or walked. I know it made my mom happy to go there with me.
On the tenth anniversary of his death, I made my family go to Graceland. I thought this was a momentous event, and who knew if we'd be in Memphis for any more of them, much less a significant one. The place was crowded with fans, some crying, many dressed like Elvis. I doubt the day made too big impression on the boys, as they were 6 and 2, but maybe it did on Evelyn. I felt it necessary to be there that day, as kind of a remembrance to my father, too. We went early in the day, before it got too hot or too crazy.
One of the things I did when I lived in Memphis was to ask people when I first met them if they had an Elvis story. Everyone did, just about. This one had an uncle who knew him, that one had a cousin who did. But the best was when I met a woman named Jo Cathy who actually dated him. This was after he was in his prime, but still. She dated him! She was mentioned in a book, and only had nice things to say about him. She told me how hard things were for him, to live like a normal person, to go anywhere without being mobbed. They didn't last long, but that was the best Elvis story I heard.
Over the years, Elvis has been a part of my life. I collected stamps when the Elvis stamp came out, and I have a street sign for Elvis Presley Boulevard that was a gift from one of my friends. Evelyn who was born two years after his death is a fan of his. I never met Elvis and never saw him in concert. The closest I got was being in his home, after he had died. He never knew how a little girl fell in love with his music and rock and roll and because of that, one of my prized possessions is that album. More because my father bought it, but also because it was Elvis. Unlike my father, Elvis touched the entire world, so I am grateful that my father is a small part of my memories today.
©16 August 2004Evelyn complains that I am listening to too many of her favorite artists. She's the one who told me to listen to and then took me to four Better than Ezra concerts. It was there I fell in love with the old Cowboy Mouth band, with Rob. She introduced me to Dakona and I got put on their mailing list. I'd seen her Jeff Buckley poster in her room, but never much thought about him. I knew he had died young and was the son of Tim Buckley, but that's about it. It was from the Dakona email I received that I listened to their song called Mystery White Boy and had to hear some Jeff Buckley for myself. As I write this, I am listening to his sorrowful and touching songs.
I listen to that song, Mystery White Boy, almost every day, many times a day. At first I didn't understand the significance of the words. Why they said Hallelujah so many times and what the name meant. Being naturally curious, I searched Jeff Buckley on the web. I read about him, his life and his music. Then I got some of his songs and it started coming clear to me.
First of all, one of his albums is called Mystery White Boy. He only made six albums, many with the same songs on them. He sang the song Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen on many of his albums. When he drowned, he gave up his pain that tormented him all his young life. The song talks about him saying goodbye to his father for the last time. He died in Memphis where I once lived so I felt a connection through that.
I think the first song I got was Last Goodbye. I would have to say that is my favorite song of all times at the moment. The melody is haunting as are the words. It's about saying goodbye to the love of your life and how hard this is to do. But it has to be done because they just can't work things out.
The next song was Grace, which Evelyn says is her favorite and my second by him. He writes about it taking too long to die but that he was ready to go. He writes of his pain, which is predominant in most of his music. I can relate to that one only too well. That's why I love his music so much, because I can take his words and they reflect too well my own life.
I got obsessed with getting more of his music. I got Hallelujah, So Real and more. I couldn't believe he covered Kick out the Jams by the MC5. I read his entire web site and several others. I started listening to him enough so I knew the words and could sing along. I made a cd which I was totally amazed that every song I wanted fit on it and I put in the right order. I listen to it all the time because his music touches my soul.
This man was a genius and who knows what else he might have created had he lived longer than twenty-nine short years. His mother has created his web site to keep his memory alive, just as I did with Greg, even though Greg wasn't famous. If Evelyn is upset with me for loving Jeff Buckley's music, that's too bad. Now that I've found him he will remain a staple of my music listening because his words have moved me so deeply. Rest in peace, Jeff and I hope you are playing music in heaven with your father and my son.
©20 October 2004Jeff Buckley's official Web site
It is now 6:14 a.m. I've been up a good three hours, after not being able to fall asleep last night. There is no reason I woke up and was completely wide awake. I can't blame it on changing from daylight savings time, as Arizona doesn't change. I don't have a job to go to, or a pet that woke me up, and thank heavens it wasn't the phone bringing me bad news. I didn't hear a strange noise, or have a bad dream. Just certain times I can't sleep no matter what, so I get up. I read somewhere that it's better to get out of bed than to just lie there and toss and turn.
I'm used to walking around my house in the dark, and it's unusual that I walk into something. There was some moonlight to guide me as I made my way from my bedroom across the house to the computer room. The path is clear, but sometimes the cat likes to sit in the middle and I have stepped on her accidentally. You'd think by now she'd know I can't see in the dark like she does.
I sat in the computer room in the dark, the only light coming from the monitor. I checked my email, my ebay and opened Much Music player. The cat kept meowing at me, so I went into the kitchen and saw she had no food so I took care of that for her. At the same time, I nuked some water and made hot chocolate. I carefully brought it back here in the dark and amazingly, I didn't spill any. I had the last of my homemade chocolate chip cookies, too.
After I read all the useless email I had received overnight, I looked to see what was new on ebay. Nothing that I couldn't live without, so then I checked my bank account. I still have money in my checking account, but then, it is the beginning of the month. I looked at some other documents I'm working on, but then went to play games. There is nothing better than wasting time playing computer games, especially in the middle of the night and sleep eludes you no matter what. I am listening mostly to Jeff Buckley and George Strait, and I played Snood, Tip Top and Hearts.
Had I stayed in bed, I could have watched television, but there isn't much on at this time of day. Mostly paid programming, or news. I am completely sick of the election, which will be held today. I've already voted by absentee ballot. I could have watched Saved by the Bell, but I decided to just stay up and take a nap later today.
The sun is just peeking over the Mingus Mountains and I love watching sunrises. It was completely dark when I first got up, and soon it will be daylight. All while I sat at the computer and played games and listened to music, the earth continues to rotate. In another half hour, I'll go open the curtains to let the sun start warming my house. I'll get dressed, brush my teeth, all that regular stuff we all do to start a day. Now the sky outside my window is almost all blue, the dark of night almost disappeared. I'll be dragging most of the day from missing those hours of sleep, and I'm sure tonight will be a repeat of this night, where I just can't sleep. I'll leave the television on and listen to election results till I manage to drift off to sleep. This is a cycle that I go through on a regular basis, so I just adjust best I can, because there are some things one just can't fightIt's now 6:40 a.m., and daylight has come so this sleepless night has passed. . Maybe I'll be lucky and this will be the only sleepless night for a while, but I know better. Time to go face this day, and not think about tonight, since it will come in due time and should I sleep through it, I'll be grateful, and if not, then I'll be sitting here again. Unless I decide to lie in bed and hope sleep will come. We shall see.
©2 November 2004There are more stories I have written to read. Please remember these are my original stories and thoughts, and to copy or otherwise use them without my permission is a copyright violation. I would love to hear your random thoughts on any of these stories.