It Don't Matter To The Sun...

An actor smiled your smile today.

Ambushed me.

I've been watching the show for a while now, and yeah, sure I noticed the resemblance.

But today, the angle of the camera shot and the way he flashed that smile...

My heart forgot to beat.

It was you.

I felt your loss for the first time in.... months? years maybe?
I can't pin point when I stopped thinking about you daily.

I just remember one day seeing a red car and only after it had passed did I realize that I had forgotten to peer intently at the driver. Who knows how many red cars had passed me with maybe you driving them.

I had stopped looking.

The actor stole your smile today.

Seeing it brought to life just how much time has passed.
How many things have changed.
I feel this unexplainable urge to find your number
tell you all the things that have happened since you last smiled at me.
My hair was short. I mean really short.
It's longer now, though not as long as it was when you last smiled at me.
Tyson and Travis both came home from South America.
My parents finally divorced.
I've moved. Again. Still no dog though.
I have tattoos, piercings, since you last smiled at me.
New jobs, new friends, new boyfriends.
My books have doubled in numbers, I found I like getting pedicures.
I've been camping, swimming, dancing and adventuring
And living.
I've been living.
Since you last smiled at me.

You were my first love. There's been others. It's been years. But you were my very first.

I saw your smile on the TV today.
I hope you're smiling where ever you are today.
I am.

A Mother's Prayer: Dear Lord, Please Teach My Daughter a Lesson

When I've taken this big of a break from writing it's hard to decide what to write about.
Do I write about My uber fabulous vacation?
Do I write about work and the never ending training?
Do I write about stumbling upon a picture of the three of us from eons ago?Ba


Nope.
I'm going to write about my ear. Or rather, "how fate will punish you for betraying your parents beliefs".

Back in February I had my conch pierced. Which is a part of my ear, so stop visualizing something else you dirty bastard.
(picture stolen from the internet, but you get the idea)


Now, my mother is not the vengeful type. Far from it. However. I wouldn't put it past my mother to sweetly pray for me to "learn" learn from my bad decisions. Bad decisions like getting an extra piercing. Even if it is just my ear.

Getting the piercing almost didn't happen. Despite my tattoos, I'm not exactly big on needles. With tattoos they use a gun and you can't see the needles. With this piercing they use a really big freaking needle. So even though I've wanted one for a few years, I could never bring myself to do it. Then for Christmas I told my dearest Erica that I would pay for her monroe. We thought it would be fun to do our piercings together. Like getting pedicures, but with blood and pain.

So I make the mistake of letting Erica go first. I watch as the piercer slowly pushes a needle through her upper lip area, leaves it there, and then finally puts a dainty little sparkler in the hole that he just stuck a needle through.

I use the bold font to better express the horror I felt.

When it was my turn, I balked. I tried to run screaming from the room, but Erica, who is normally a petite 5 foot 1, suddenly grew 9 inches, her hand sprouted into a hammer, slammed the door shut, locked it and sat on me until I meekly promised to stay put. Which I did. He put the needle through my ear, I heard the cartilage break, and felt an eon of pain.

Later Erica told me the whole process was over in 30 seconds, but pain seconds are like dog years.

But now I have a pretty little piercing.

My mom saw it the next day. She handled it well.

That night I did my first salt water cleanse on my ear. It was too tender to clean any other way. And because of the location, the only way to fully immerse my ear was by filling a cereal bowl full of warm salt water and laying on my side. The downside to this method (besides looking silly with half my head in a cereal bowl) was that my hair would get wet too. So that first time, I lifted my head and felt all the water drip from my head. Eh. I rushed to the bathroom to find a towel and come face to face with a mirror image of me, with blood streaking the side of my head.

I thought for sure I was dying for the sin of putting a hole in my body.
Thirty minutes and 1 panicked phone call to The Boy later, I stopped bleeding and my heart started beating again.

I suspect this was somehow my mom's doing.

I stopped bleeding relatively quickly. But I wasn't able to sleep on my left side for a month. And at least once a week in kickboxing someone would manage to hit it.

Again, I'm sure my mom had some hand in all of this. Some kind of lesson about not putting metal in one's temple of a body.

It's been four months. My conch is healed, I can sleep on my side, I don't cringe when I go to kickboxing, I catch a glimpse of shiny when I turn my head... it sounds silly but I really love the piercing.

So I did the logical thing. I wanted to get a new earring to put in it. Previously I had a shiny stud, but I was ready to find something new to replace it. I was thinking a tiny celtic knot or maybe a silver four leaf clover.

The Boy and I ran out of gas on the way to the store. We walked miles to the Circle K. Only to discover it was a Circle K that didn't have gas. So we turned around and walked miles in the other direction. Still no gas station. I finally made an executive decision and called my mom to play rescue hero. She picked us up and nicely refrained from saying anything like "This is fate punishing you for going against your mom's wishes".

But I could tell she was thinking it.

Let the Blogging Begin! Again.

I'm back. With a new laptop.

Sorry for the absence.

But I'm leaving again. This well be a short vacation but it will involve a beach and some of my favorite people. I promise pictures.