Loved Ones... HOLLA!

Perhaps it’s the pending birthday looming at the end of the week.

If I get a spare hour, I love to youtube. (Yes, I’ve made it a verb, however, I’m sure I’m not the first to do so.) It’s the ultimate in letting “one thing take you to the next” experience. It’s one of the few places I suspend my need to know where or why and just go and do.

So imagine my surprise when my start place of John Mayer’s ‘Free Fallin’ video landed me about one hour later at a ‘Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman’ video. Seriously, you can find anything on youtube.

I laughed and clicked on it. This, semi-shamefully, is an essential reminder of my youth. (Candace, I found a user who has EVERY episode from ALL 6 seasons online.)

A few days later, my heart still kind of aches.

It’s the birthday. I know it. Nostalgia has been running deep of late and the one thing from my past I seem to be missing most is my family. Okay, it’s not so much my past as much as a separation from them in the present which is lasting longer than I would have it.

So on a very short, non-philisophical note, with little creativity and vibrancy in my writing, here exists a shout out to my family.

I LOVE YOU! I MISS YOU!

· From bottom up: Please think of me when you’re home in September. I’m sad we’re not going to be there together like we always try to be.
· I’m glad the beach was tons of fun. I’m jealous as it’s been a month and a half since I’ve been. Plus, David Cook has a new single out as well. I know you loved the Archuleta one I shot your way.
· You’re girls are getting so big. You have to blog more. But in the meantime I’ll settle for talking to you when I’m trying to get mom.
· Remember, I’m counting on you for Christmas. Thanksgiving = You + St. George. Christmas = You + Me.
· John and Jen broke up and my heart is happy? Please explain this as I know you both are one of the few others I consult with in these moments. Also, ‘Sisterhood’ would have been much better with you, girlie.
· The goal is 10 grand then New York City. I’m thinking 6 months. Thanks for inspiring me. We’ll go get sushi together.
· Girls T & K. I’m finally at an age where I’ll take that pizza and beer girls’ night you offered awhile back.
· You’re obviously throwing the coolest parties of the summer. I’m sure the new pool has nothing to do with it.
· Congrats on your big day which has ironically been in progress for years. Plus, you are single-handedly responsible for the best conversation I’ve had this summer. I cherish THAT day on the beach.
· To the big brother every girl wishes she had and I luckily do, I love the genuine interest you always show in my life. Few people sincerely care about the details of others the way you do.

A long read... but you should do it.

My two friends and I were leaving the restaurant. It was in a part of town I was leery to go into in the first place. Supposedly the food was worth every bit of the shadiness it required to walk from the parked car a few blocks away so it wouldn’t get broken into or stolen itself.

We had paid and taken our last sips. I was merely standing in the sitting area waiting for the other two who had escaped for a quick bathroom break. I was extremely aware of my surroundings and in my constant assessment, I looked down to see a crisp five dollar bill on the floor under one of the benches.

I glanced around the room. As we were the only ones in the restaurant besides the staff who were all tucked away in the back, I bent over to grab the money. Upon lowering myself, I noticed another crisp five as well as a twenty which seemed to be poking out of the seam of the wall between the two rooms.

I felt guilty shoving the fives quickly into my jeans pocket but it was the larger bill which scared me. I tugged on the twenty and it pulled out another twenty. When I tugged on the second one, two more sticking to it came with it.

Afraid of getting caught but suffering from a bout of greediness, I put the first two twenties in my pocket with the fives and stood up quickly. The guilt was insurmountable now b/c my thievery was sure to be discovered. By now I was sure none of this money was accidentally dropped by anyone rather as seedy as the part of town we were in and the restaurant owners who served us.

The girls were by my side and it had darkened outside. I wanted to put the money back but I wanted to leave immediately more.

We stepped out the front door and saw two men lingering in the corner of the alley. We were positioned in the middle of tons of industrial buildings surrounded on all sides by these small alleys. My mind tried to calculate an escape plan but I silenced it as my own coping mechanism telling myself I was being ridiculous.

I was seriously afraid. There was nothing comforting about all the concrete buildings and pavement.

The money was burning a hole into my leg and while we quietly spoke awkwardly to each other to feign our normality, we were all aware of the loiterers following us. I was sure they had known what I had taken.

We tried to nonchalantly pick up the pace. As we did, the guests made no attempt to hide their agenda. They broke into a run after us. We all took off but I was slower than the other two.

I instantly found myself separated from my group and down another alley by myself completely conscious to the fact I had no idea where the car was parked. I kept running. My lungs were burning. I was not in shape for this. The acute fear seemed to paralyze me.

With horror pumping through my veins, I turned the corner and bumped into one of my friends.

“Where’s the car!” she exclaimed but I was as ignorant as she was.

By this time we had hidden ourselves behind a dumpster and although I was confident we would be safe from the riot we could hear had broken out now that night had entirely fallen, we knew staying for any longer than a minute was not an option. We would have to leave at some point.

I peered around the corner of the putrid smelling green dumpster. I recoiled at the sight before me. One of the men had pulled out his gun and shot the person in front of him. My heart was beating so fast, it had turned into more of a hum.

We dashed out and started running towards what felt like a “front” street. We had run three blocks or so when a man grabbed me by my shirt and barked orders for me to follow him. I thought we were finished. I knew this was it and my mind ran over every unfinished detail in my life.

He led us into one of these industrial buildings. We swiftly traipsed through the dirt and the clutter of broken glass and rusting gasoline cans. We walked through a door I was sure lead to something more terrible than what I was witnessing but was surprised to see it open into… an apartment.

I first noticed the bed pushed into the far right corner. The blankets were crumpled and dusty. The floor was littered with trash. The windows were busted.

“You guys can rest here for awhile,” the stranger generously offered. My mind confusingly made the leap from equating this man as the villain to my rescuer.

“What is this?” I queried. “Where are we?”

“We’re in my apartment. I keep this place because I work two blocks away. When I get out too late for my safety, I crash here.”

“But there’s no lock on the door,” I shrieked.

“Trust me; it goes far more unnoticed by appearing ‘open’. The moment I put a lock on it is the moment this place is discovered and looted by any passer-bys.”

My body ached. My muscles felt heavy and in severe pain. He explained a little more how his apartment had come to be known as a safe house for the area. He mumbled about the couches and the pillows and blankets I only now noticed on them. But my mind crazily tried to digest the sight before me.

I had wondered to the wall of windows and in the dark had been examining the literal mayhem which was chaotically taking place a mere fifteen feet away outside. Gun shots were as prevalent as footsteps. It was hard to delineate one scream from the chorus of screaming.

I watched a brute shoot another at point blank. He bent over the motionless corpse, reached into his back jean pocket and removed the leather wallet.

Life was not treasured here. How had a city, our city, turned into this? It was a breeding ground for panic and terror. I heard our host once more. He continued on the frequency of guests and in that moment, there was a knock at the door.

My heart stopped.

The door pushed open and our lost friend stood in the doorway. Having been the only one of us familiar with this part of town, she was also familiar with this place. In alarm, she explained how she had parked the Suburban just outside the loading dock to this building. If we could get to the car, we would be able to get out of this hell.

We barely thanked the gentleman for his help. He walked us once more through the rubble. My heart was racing again and I thought it might explode. I could see the black SUV we had traveled in. We had no time among all the shooting to say good bye to the man. As soon as we saw the outside, we broke into a sprint and nothing could describe the fear of every step.

I watched him pull his gun on me. I was only ten feet away and almost at the car door when… CRACK.

---
This was the first of 3 nightmares I had last night. The other two were grossly different and equally emotionally charged.

Everything was dark. My eyes flew open. My hands were wrapped around my stomach. There was a shooting pain in my gut. I could barely think of anything other than this sharp throbbing in my belly. I rolled to my side. What was wrong with me?

My breathing was short and rapid. “Sit up,” I told myself. I couldn’t shake the panic. I climbed out of bed, stumbled downstairs, went to the bathroom, turned on the light, and secured a glass of water. I popped some ibuprofen b/c the pain was real though I was uncertain why. When I was sure I could fall back asleep, I walked to my bed again.

For what? Two more nightmares. Last night sucked.

I Hereby Motion...

... all chuck Norris jokes be edited into Michael Phelps jokes.

Ex: Michael Phelps can drown both a fish... and Chuck Norris.

My loved ones will understand the tribute I pay to the "machine" I have spent no fewer than 30 hours of Olympics these past 7-9 days to see him break and re-break records many times over.

I, too, have shed tears with Deborah Phelps. I'm nearly hoarse from how amazing this all has been.

One More Night

Irrefutable truth regarding me: I am extraordinarily nocturnal. When others sleep, my desire to be awake strongly intensifies.

Two nights ago, I came home to a still house blacked out in sleep and quiet. I found myself in a position I’ve rarely experienced since moving in with the 3 girls. Solitude. Not a solitude of presence but a solitude of being.

As I tried to slow my mind down from the day’s stimulation, my mind kept speeding up in excitement of the alone time, something I treasure as I’m one of the most social creatures you’ll ever meet.

I commenced my evening rituals of shower, lotioning, putting away my shoes, and organizing my things for work the next day. I removed my shorts and tee shirt to settle into my bed, turned on my alarm clock, and turned off the bedside lamp. As soon as the dull yellow light disappeared, my eyes took a second to adjust to the external lights from the world peering through the windows.

I was so exhausted. I’ve been living in a constant state of exhaustion for the past two weeks. My brain has been on overdrive, surviving in a hyper aware condition to all stimuli around me, careful to take note and re-note all which is being said and done in my surroundings. I’ve barely had to lay my head down before I’ve been out.

Yet I lay there watching the shadows bounce around on the wall from the summer breeze through the limbs of the trees outside. I delineated between the white moon and the warmer street lamp glow. I traced the incoming beams to the mirror in my room and then its reflected trajectory outward.

I thought about my work. I thought about my family. I thought about my career plans. I thought about my ‘to do’ list. I thought about my work.

The air was warm and a little tacky from the moisture of the assiduously working swamp cooler. My night side fan moved around enough air to feel a faint breeze in my bed.

I thought about how much I love reading on nights like these. When everything is peaceful and silence is an old welcomed friend whose company couldn’t be more perfect in the moment. When the plot is taking you page by page deeper into your escape world. I almost decided to engage in the hobby when the concept of turning on the light deterred me.

So I decided to indulge in a moment of gratitude for the good things of the week.

The reflection of a specific friend came into my head and I smiled all over. I love good friends. Then in that vein, I mulled over a phone conversation with another friend from a few days earlier and the happiness I felt. Consequently, I smirked when I thought of my sister’s opinion of this friend. I meditated on my family on the other side of the country. I am loved.

I thought about my goals again. I tried to formulate plans. But whatever I thought of, I kept grinning. I found myself in the most smiley mood and it was 1:30 at night.

I should have been asleep. I’d regret all of this in the morning. Still those thoughts didn’t do anything to quiet my mind. I wanted to stay up. I wanted to talk. I wanted to ponder.

I’ve heard it quoted, “by night, an atheist half believes in God.”

One thing I know, as the harshness of daylight vanishes, so does the blanket of invincibility in which we daily cloak ourselves.

My mind is more open and receptive. My opinions are more malliable. The need to be or experience anything other than what I am or how I feel dissolves. It’s liberating freedom.

So take a guess why I love night.