against the wind...

This song always stops me in my tracks. I love it, it's beautiful.


The years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worryied about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again


Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter sgainst the wind


Well those drifter's days are past me now
I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out


Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still runnin' against the wind
Well I'm older now and still runnin'
Against the wind


I wish the video quality was better...

I've never sinned

I have a list of what I would like to happen at my funeral. I think it's perfectly normal...if you grew up Catholic.

Of course the normal stuff would have to occur. All you people would have to come to a proper open casket viewing and say things like, "wow, she's never looked more peaceful" or "she was such an awesome lady" or "I wonder who did her makeup?" (Shan, you've now been in my blog twice.)

I would hope no one would do anything crazy like:

overturn the casket trying to jump in with me.

try to hold my hand when we've never held hands before (dead hands are cold, it's weird, it's creepy, I would never want you to feel uncomfortable.)

put some weird shit in the casket, like a Dwell magazine or something. I'm dead, I can't read and I wouldn't actually care about some lovely, minimalist home no one could ever live in. I'm in heaven. I would hope it's minimalist enough for my taste.

I would hope someone would:

make sure I don't have on panty hose or tights. those suck.

make sure my boobs look perky. (maybe I'd leave this to Jessica. She likes boobs since she thinks she's boob-less. little does she accept, she's lucky. I've told her.)

And finally, I would hope no one would get shit mixed up and play this version of my funeral song:

toothpaste, that's right, toothpaste.

I've long searched for the perfect toothpaste. Not too foamy, not too gritty, not too not foamy.

My friend Shannon is a gum critic. She tries them all and knows about the new ones before they come out. I'm pretty sure she has a spy within Orbit or Trident or all of them.

I need a spy.

I can't even tell you how many tubes of toothpaste I keep half full in my home. I mean, I throw them out eventually, because you can't really sell them at a yard sale or anything. And toothpaste is a weird thing to give away. Maybe I'll start taking them to clothes swaps or something.

Anyway, I have a new absolute favorite. Are you ready? Did I keep you in suspense long enough? Can you even stand waiting to know what I use on my precious teeth?

drumroll, please. no? okay.

Crest 3D whitening is the newest winner. Man, my teeth feel clean and I'm pretty sure they are getting whiter with every brushing.

That's all I had to say. I totally created this blog specifically to tell you about my preference in toothpaste. I'm not even kidding.

there’s nothing I can do.

The great big heart I have
Apologizes too much
And worries about you too often.

The great big heart I have
Always puts you first
And myself second.

The great big heart I have
Believes in the power
And the everything that is us.

The great big heart I have
Understands it's not my choice
And it's not within my power.

The great big heart I have
Loves you
And craves your happiness.

But.

The great big heart I have
Is always left
Wanting more
Needing more
And expecting too much.

living and dying.

There's a lesson about living and dying. I don't exactly comprehend it all. I make an attempt at having a grasp on it, at least as far as I understand it. I'm not morbid (at least not abnormally so…) but my understanding is: When you know you're going to die, you only surround yourself with people who mean the most. You allow yourself the freedom of completely expressing your emotions. When you're living without the acknowledgment of death, you surround yourself with people who may or may not be just for the moment...People who may or may not understand exactly what you're about or where you've come from.

When you know you're dying, when you acknowledge your mortality, you make an effort to ensure the people you love; know you love them. And not just that, but you make sure they know why. Why can't we live our lives, our entire lives, with the idea of dying in mind? Not the scared and apprehensive idea of knowing we're going to die, but the grateful and loving idea of the end of our demise and the end of ourselves as our loved ones see us?

No matter what any one person believes, our, my, your impact on the people we surround ourselves with will miss the void that is us, me, you. And believe it or not, every person you come across during your life will be missed by you or someone.

And if that isn't a reason for being kind, being good, being generous, being just…then I don't know what is.

A lesson learned.

If you just take a look around your house, your apartment, your dwelling; it's pretty easy to say to yourself "I own all of this…" and it's a beautiful thing. You work, you earn money, you make a goal and you achieve it. The more difficult task is to look past the material objects and look deeper. We don't actually own our relationships, because you yourself can't simply "own" them.

Relationships aren't about "ownership", they're about a give and take. They're about reciprocation. They're about complete and total acceptance of another human being and accepting responsibility for your role in creating an understanding. Some of these relationships are ingrained in your being due to time spent and an acknowledgment of a shared past. Some of them, inexplicably, just exist from the very second you first exchanged a simple hello.

Relationships, romantic or otherwise, be they male/female, female/female, male/male, are the truest form of art in existence. They are a creation, worthy of the time put into them. Without time, there is nothing. Without work, they simply will not exist.

Over the course of several years, I believe I have come to terms with the difference in my relationships. I have truly great friendships, I have friends, I have family, I have acquaintances, I have loves. No matter what category I put these people in, I believe in giving my all, I believe in sharing, I believe in giving to the most exaggerated degree.

I do not, however, share my soul with everyone. I leave this most intimate view for only the few who I know won't take advantage. I sincerely hope these people know how much I treasure them. I hope they know how much I value their friendship.

And this, such a difficult and yet simple thing to put into words, has no tangible value whatsoever. But in my heart is worth more than everything.

Picture Book

Mom sent me some photos tonight and I have some words to share about my feelings regarding them, but I'm not exactly ready to share them with the masses (and by masses, I mean all of you who read my "blog").

I will simply say, we should speak to our parents, grandparents and great-grandparents before they are gone. They have stories, they've lived entire lives. We have no idea. We should ask questions. We should really care. We're the reason they existed (I know: I don't mean they're the reason we exist, the statement is intentional). We're the absolute proof of their love.

I have regrets when it comes to asking my family questions. Why did I allow certain subjects to be taboo?

I have had two Grandmothers pass. I have one still currently living. All 3 of my Grandfathers are no longer living. They all had (and have) so much wisdom to share and most of us take this for granted.

We don't know everything. I don't know everything.

Here are some photos my Mom sent me today.