Tuesday, September 30, 2008

I have a dream ...

Hi there. I have no idea what to make of anything in my personal life. I keep praying I'll maintain patience. And when patience doesn't pay off with dividends I find palatable, I pray I'll have keen understanding and solace.

I'm still back at square one with Alton. Actually, I don't even think we're on square one. If this was a board game we'd probably be sitting on the "do not pass" square while awaiting the spinner to land on "1" -- at least I'm waiting for a move that is minuscule, but will be wildly significant.
We still talk. As of late, it's been my doing. I've made the call.

On Saturday I chucked caution and called the cell phone that he got because of my influence. Directly to voice mail. UGH! I left a babbling message fitting for my reputation. "Marissa Randomosity" as he's coined it. The very randomosity he finds/found endearing and charming. Once I hung up, I gave myself permission to call him at work. Yeah. I'm all ballsy. He was there. When he picked up I asked if he was busy. I gave him ample opportunity to dismiss my call. Instead, we talked for nearly an hour. I expressed concern over him being at work and being on the phone for such a lengthy call. He told me he was getting some looks, but "f*ck em." He doesn't typically throw out the F-bomb. My girly ego was pleased. We laughed a lot. We talked about various things.

I am a pessimist when it comes to my personal relationships. Stinkin' thinkin' and all that jazz. I try not to read into things said. Or rather things unsaid. I'm constantly told that men aren't that insightful. Men tell me their species isn't that complicated. Yes. Yes, you are.


I'm prone to putting words in Alton's mouth -- or any man's, for that matter. My imagination is the root of my unsettled heart. Well, that's not all together true. Lack of action from Alton is the root of that. Justified as he may feel, it's still making me crazy. Patience, dear woman. Patience.


I'm not sitting at home moping, but I know I'm spending far too much time on being curious. After he and I spoke on Saturday I was high as a kite on a breezy, sunny day. I was groovin' in the moment and excited that he said I would definitely see him again, "We should go to a movie," he declared. Then, the unfounded, unsupported comment came via a mutual friend and former co-worker ...

"I hear Alton has a girlfriend ..."

Initially I thought that he was referring to me and being coy. I asked where he heard that. Of course, as the case in rumor spreading, he couldn't remember the source. Then, when I said I had no problem with Alton having a girlfriend if it was in reference to me.


"All I know is Friend A and Friend B (both co-workers) say they never see or hear from him much ... they figure it must be a woman." After that he went on to say that I must be whipping Alton into submission due to the recent cell phone purchase, "that man swore those things off ... said he'd never get one because they were too much hassle. You must have him whipped."

I played it cool. I informed this 'friend' that Alton and I haven't seen each other in a couple weeks. "We've not discussed being exclusive. I'm a novice to dating. I'm just going with the flow."

HA! Flow my big, white butt! It's killing me, but I wasn't going to reveal that to the pot-stirrer. As our conversation progressed he seemed to get a bigger spoon. I must consider the source. My only source needs to be the horse's mouth: Alton's full, pouty mouth *sigh*


All of that meant nothing as the day went on. I could only ponder the girlfriend comment. Is it possible in 2 weeks of time off from me that he found someone else? Was there another woman in the wings? Is the man I considered forthright and compassionate a total facade? Could it be possible that while I sit here and pine over him; missing him; longing for his big, blue eyes to look back at me ... he's off making time with another woman? Yes. It's feasible. Why wouldn't it be?

At this moment I choose to be oblivious. I don't want to know. I've not given up hope. If it's not meant to continue then we'll have that fateful discussion. I have to relax. I'll face the facts when they are presented to me.

In the meantime, I sent Alton an email that contains a recent photo. I suggested he might want a reminder. I haven't heard back. He checks emails as frequently as he checks his cell phone messages. I know his week is crazy as he gets ready to fly to California for his brother's wedding where he is the best man (and I do believe he is.) Not to seem like a broken record, but he is a man of good character. That is what drew me to him. That is what sustains my attraction.


The photo in question is from Sunday. I was dolled up for a surprise trip to Chicago. Maureen and Kris took me to a matinee in Chicago. I had no idea what we'd be going to see until we stepped foot in the theater.


They are both fans of Wicked and The Color Purple. We drove past the theaters where those shows were being performed. I tried not to look for clues. I love happy surprises (note to Alton.) I've only been to Theater Row in Chicago once and that was long ago. It'd been eons since I sat in a theater to see a professional musical. I was giddy.


Finally, we arrived at the Auditorium Theater. I couldn't tell if there was a marquee. I saw no posters of the current show. There was advertisement for a ballet coming soon.

Maureen kept my ticket tucked away. She presented the tickets to the usher and said, "it's a surprise for her." Stepping into the atrium I saw t-shirts. Black shirts with these words emblazoned across the front: MAMMA MIA! I nearly burst into tears. My birthday movie relived. LIVE!!


Kris managed to get phenomenal seats for us on the final performance. I was beside myself. There I sat next to the single most important person in my life other than Man-cub.


The rockin' overture started and tears welled in my eyes. I couldn't believe I was there. I leaned to hug Maureen. I thanked her as tears streamed down my cheeks. She whispered that it was Kris' idea as a small token of thanks for lending support. I reached my hand to Kris in lieu of a hug. The sentiment wasn't minimized. She grinned knowing how happy I was. We all beamed because we could share in the day.


The curtain rose ... Sophie sang:

I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream - I have a dream
No truer words spoken or sung. A simple tune. Simple lyrics. It's in the simplistic that we often find greatest meaning.

I have a dream, a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I’ll cross the stream - I have a dream
I’ll cross the stream - I have a dream




Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Patience was a stranger

First let me apologize for the lapse in posts. If you were rabidly awaiting Alton updates, I'm sorry. I thought it'd be dreadfully boring to report hand holding and smooching.
Things with Alton were going along quite swimmingly. He's a wonderful man. He's the most consistent and considerate man I've dated. Ever. I swear it. Naturally that made me giddy. I had to force myself to contain my excitement. I didn't to scare the poor man away. After all, it had been a month! That's longer than anyone else ever made it since 2001. Whoa! This was monumental and newsworthy, but you know me. When it comes to dating, I'm a skeert little kitten in a den of voracious Dobermans.
Even though he'd shared that my randomness and expressive joy was charming to him, I still had misgivings about really letting it all hang out. I admit that to those who do not know me (and even to those who do) I can be a bit overwhelming. My sister's Kris tells me I remind her of Barbara Jean from the show Reba. Just say what's on your mind and let the chips fall where they may! I do tend to have weird insight and have no qualms about letting those quips escape from my brain and ooze from my mouth. I is who I is. Dig it?
Last Saturday, September 13, we were watching the movie Streets of Fire. We actually watched it! I told him how I once had the vinyl copy of the soundtrack. With a chuckle he said, "I know you're dying to break out into song." I did, but I didn't. We had a good time laughing about Willem Defoe's armpit high-patent leather britches.
For whatever reason, our post movie make out session took on a serious tone. What I mean by that is we stopped kissing and started talking. Not that superficial kind of chatter that one might use in order to cool off or slow the natural progression of hot smooching. Our talk involved looking deeply into one another to realize where our relationship was heading.
I want a mature relationship that goes well beyond that which physical and sexual attraction offers. I won't go into detail as to what our conversation involved, but I will say I was delighted by his initial reaction. I felt secure that everything would remain status quo; I would continue to see this adorably compassionate man.
Then, this once consistent man became silent. Let it go for a day, I told myself. He just needs to let the conversation of the evening past sink in.
Day two came to nearly pass and my fears kicked in to high gear. After taking deep breaths and flipping my phone open and closed several times, I dialed his cell number (he'd finally gotten one on Friday before our date and I was his first call... surprise!) It rang four times before switching to his voicemail. I left a simple message saying, "I hope you're well and enjoyed your day off. Call me."
Three hours passed and no return call from Alton. Now panic stricken I tried his cell again and it went straight to voicemail. He'd shut off his phone. No message left. I called his home. Nothing. I called work thinking maybe he had to work. "Today is his day off."
Clearly I was persona non grata. At least in my frame of mind that had to be what he was thinking. I did what anyone in my situation would do: I cried. I cried more. I hadn't really eaten much and now I was expected to sleep? How?
I'm ashamed to admit that I took my cell phone to bed with me. It's usually left on the charger overnight, but I hoped he'd call. The phone sat silent next to my pillow. I'm surprised my tossing and turning didn't toss it to the floor or behind the headboard.
The following day I had little to say. I put on the best happy face I could muster for Man-cub's benefit, but said little else at work. I used the excuse that I was under the weather and suffering from a headache. I didn't really want to go home because that meant being alone with my thoughts. Although, being at work didn't deter my brain from concocting all sorts of scenarios.
Maureen and Kris were both aware of my dilemma. Both were texting me to see if I was ok. Both told me not to give up hope. Both prayed for me. I prayed plenty. I prayed for patience. I prayed for understanding. I prayed that this, too, would pass and I'd come out the victor in some capacity.
Regardless of the amount of prayer, I continued to look to the worst case possibilities. I have little to no success with relationships. That's no secret. It's not always my doing, mind you. I simply find it useless to force relationships. If, by date three, I'm not connecting with a man, I lose him. Simple. I don't need to be with a man to feel human or fulfilled. In most cases it works itself out and feelings are spared. Even if someone ends up with a bruised ego, it's a clean departure. Alton was far from being in such a category.
What makes him so different? For starters, I respect him. I trust him. He's kind. Thoughtful. The little voices in the back of my head never scream at me like the poltergeists in the Amityville Horror-- GET OUT! My mother always taught me to listen to the little voices. Sometimes I don't. In those instances I always look back and tell myself you shoulda listened!
What was shared between us that night was indeed mandating what John Gray refers to as "cave time." You know, that dude who wrote Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. Everybody told me to just chill out. Relax. He needs time. He'd call on his terms. Waiting was all I could do. Just go on with normal daily routines and have faith. Faith and patience.
Faith. I have an abundance of that. No problem. Patience? Patience? Do you know who you're talking to? I want to know nowwwwwwww! ::insert Veruca Salt whine here::
Back to the prayers I went. I consulted with my friend and former love interest Jay. He and I had been down a similar path. He was honest and forthright. I expected nothing less. We had a laugh over my lack of patience. He strongly suggested that I give Alton space and time. BLECH! I hate that combination, but he was right. Everybody was right. It's the very advice I would give my dearest and closest friend. The fire department weekly words of wisdom even told me the same thing: "Before you give advice, try taking it yourself." OK, that might not be exact, but if that's not a sign from God, I don't know what is. I listened.
Shortly after Jay and concluded our conversation I received an email. My heart flew into my throat. It was from Alton. Anxiously I clicked 'read.' He was apologizing for not being in touch or returning my calls. He expressed that he needed time to sort things out. He was sweet. I burst into tears. I did respond by thanking him for contacting me. I added that I missed him, our conversations and times spent together. However, I respect his need to think.
He was thinking. He wasn't dismissive.
Prayer time again. Quickly I dialed Maureen. I was sobbing, but they were tears of relief. He hadn't blown me off. He wasn't being cowardly. His good character was being revealed. I was given solace in knowing he was the man I thought him to be. Thank you, God.
This is where I admit that my patience wained mighty. I was grateful for rehearsals for STATE FAIR. Man-cub had a Social Studies project that kept my mind occupied. I attempted to go on as if nothing had happened. I didn't talk to everybody about it. I didn't want anyone to bad mouth Alton. I didn't need to hear negativity. I pushed myself to be positive. It was trying and difficult. It sucked. I cried a lot. I prayed even more.
Saturday rolled around. I was heading down a path of pity. It's not where I wanted to be, but I had convinced myself that surely he'd have called by now. I beat myself up for being such a loser of a person. I was starting to feel angry. Elizabeth Kubler Ross' stages of grief were in full force.
I knew Alton's actions were not something I could control. In the long past, my desperate attempts to make contact when a man needed space were really my need for control. I know I can't do that. Well, now I know. I can only control my actions and reactions.
Prayer again. I expressed my anger about the situation to God. I knew I couldn't fool HIM. I had to hear myself say it out loud. I declared that I deserve good things in my life. I deserve good people. I am good people. I know I don't have to convince God of that. I was telling myself. I asked that God take my hand and direct me. Show me the way.
I sent a heartfelt email to Alton on Saturday. I won't share specifics, but I let go of caution and control and let my heart speak for me. I didn't tell him what I thought he'd want to read. I told him what I needed him to know.
Early Sunday Alton replied. It was relatively middle of the road. No conclusions were drawn, but he was honest. Limbo. It's the best way to describe his words.
I tried numerous times to reply. The words were not coming. I showered, put on make up and did my hair. I had to work. With time to spare I grabbed my phone and called Alton. Assuming he was on his way to work, I thought he'd answer his cell. Straight to voice mail. I babbled incoherently, but got the message across that talking is preferable even though the emails are wonderful. "Can we talk sometime?"
By Sunday evening I was in full blown, full on funky, down in the dumps mode. I apologize to anyone who was dealt my wrath that night. I mishandled my state of mind. But by the same token, I can't always be little Miss Sunshine. I convinced myself I had been dumped. Again. I get down on myself and that's where friends come in handy. We all do it. I'm only human. Special thanks to a fantastical pleep on plurk. Your prayers helped mightily. Your kindness will never be forgotten.
Monday brought a greater sense of joy. I had no reason. I woke up joyful. The day wasn't filled with self hatred and anger. Prayer. Its power is mighty. Don't tell me otherwise because you are WRONG. Prayer helped heal my wounds. I knew that other people were praying for my peace of mind. It did the trick.
A co-worker questioned my surge of pep. I blamed the Diet Pepsi Max I had been sipping on, but I knew full well that had nothing to do with it. I am a caffeine addict. I'm unaffected by MAX. I hadn't had any coffee. If anything my caffeine intake was low. I was expressing the effects of positive thought and prayer. 'Nuff said.
Around 4:30 p.m. Monday it happened. I was running a pair or glasses through the cycle when my cell phone rang. His ringtone was nearly drowned out by the sound of the machines running and the radio blaring. But I did hear it. I did answer. We did talk as if no time had passed. With respect to me being at work, Alton said he'd call back later when I was off work. Joy.
As promised, he called back. First we had a laugh over my "Marissa randomisity" of a voice mail. I'm sure that's what spurred him to call. He does adore that about me. We talked about the situation at hand as well as laughed ourselves into hysterics. No definite plans were made, but feelings were honestly expressed. He said he still felt like he was an abyss of uncertainty. Then, with all my Barbara Jean gusto said something like, "You know I like you. A lot. You like me. A lot. It's not everyday you connect with someone like we do. Well, maybe you connect with everybody and I'm the weirdo, but the point is that we can be grown ups. We can take a mature approach or throw away something that is, in my humble opinion, a crystal clear diamond in the rough."
We talked further and joked around. I promised never to bring yucky candy to the theater and would spring for the popcorn the next time we go. I didn't hesitate to tell him that I know my opinions are only half of the equation, but I have hope. Lots of it. He smiled. I know he did. I could hear it in his voice.
I had to get to rehearsal. I hated to hang up the phone. It's not so much that I am afraid that he won't call again. I always feel that way when we talk. His laugh is the best. It's sublime. Hearing his laughter is ear-gasmic.
... until next time, patience.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Words cannot express

My friend Jane always has "wordless wednesday" on her blog. She finds the most unique and oft times crazy photographs to post. While perusing my photo collection -- stuff I snagged from God knows where -- I found this:

I've never prayed harder for winter weather attire.

Politics shmolitics

Hey there! I don't consider myself politically savvy at all. In fact, most discussions go way over my head where I find myself blinking and smiling. A lot. I should try out one of those Derrick Zoolander gazes that Asshat Running Man found so useful.
GraphJam graph creators seem to have figured out what the media finds important in the race for President of the United States. It's all tongue in cheek, naturally. What rests in the back of my mind, though, is the question: Is this how the rest of the world views this race for the White House?

Monday, September 1, 2008

This date had fecal matter all over it

The fellow that was nicknamed Sum Yung Guy will be changed to Alton as it better suits him and doesn't remind readers of the skeevy joke with Sum Yung Guy in the punchline.
Due to the events leading up to my sister's surgery I have been derailed about discussing my personal life as it relates to dating. I hope this blog post will be an entertaining means of catching up.
Alton and I went out for the first time on August 15. We dined at a local steakery and then headed over to the 2nd Annual Bishop MacNamara High School Mac-Bash. This is a fund-raiser/welcome to the new school year party and the entire community was invited. Live music was enough of a lure for us. A good time was had while we people watched and continued to talk about anything and everything under the beer tent.
Since Alton isn't from Kankakee, I acted as chauffeur. I handed him my iPod and let him choose the music for the drive over. He selected my 80s music playlist. He so scored points with that.
Once the festivities of Mac-Bash ended I had to take him back to the dining venue where his car sat alone in the parking lot. Our conversation continued when my cell phone rang. It was Man-cub wondering when I'd be picking him up from Aunt Maureen's (prior to her surgery.) I told him 'soon' and he was fine with that reply. I hung up and turned to Alton who sat in the passenger seat, "I guess that's my cue to leave adult fun times and return to being responsible adult. So, kiss me or just get out of the car." He chuckled and said, "all right..." and leaned in willingly -- I'm such a delicate flower, aren't I?
Soon turned into later and it brought up this curious question: Can a kiss on the neck cause spontaneous ovulation? I'm not lying when I tell you that my ovaries made a 'ba-da-dot' sort of rhythm which interrupted our smoochfest. I had to sit back and let out a 'whoa!' And since I am who I am and I say what I'm thinking, I informed Alton of the effect his kiss had on me. Again, I'm so demure. He says he finds my bluntness and randomness charming. Me? Charming? psh! Love.It!
An end had to come to the night and we parted ways with smiles on our faces and regret that it had to end so soon.
Over the last couple of weeks we maintained contact with phone conversations, but since I have play practice and family responsibilities, we weren't able to schedule another date until August 29. I felt a little guilty going out on a date while my sister was in the hospital. I'd been in a fog from the time she went into surgery. Friends assured me that going out would help lift the haze and give me a mental break. They were absolutely right.
Alton had a movie in mind and I was in total agreement. A movie wouldn't require conversation because I just wanted to 'be.' You've had those moments, I am sure. All you want to do is exist in the universe without giving thought to anything or anyone around you.
This date would take on a whole new meaning as the night unfolded.
We agreed to go see the Don Cheadle flick "Traitor." Once at the theater, Alton had to use the facilities. I waited in the lobby and spied a table with boxes resting on top. The items on the table were samples of Dove Anti-perspirant with a sign stating, "Compliments of the Paramount Theater. Please take one."
"Ohhhhkay! This is weird," I thought as I giggled. Clearly the theater management was fully aware that Friday night is typically date night and had the hygiene of their patrons in mind. As Alton approached from the restroom, I reached out handing him his freebie, girly pit-stick. His expression was priceless. "Do I smell?" I grabbed another one. A girl can never have too many travel size anti-perspirants. In to my purse they went and we found our seats. The previews had just started. Like me, Alton likes the previews and prefers to arrive at the theater early.
We thought the Dove encounter was going to be the oddity of our second date. HA!
Alton and I held hands or kept in physical contact by one means or another throughout the duration of the movie. Human contact of that nature has medicinal qualities. We weren't out of line or embarrassing to those around us. No overt PDA. I do have some sense of decorum.
The movie is somewhat of a blur. I know I jumped a couple of times only because I'm sensitive to violence in movies. I think I liked it. You'd have to ask Alton if it's worthy of seeing in the theater or wait for it on DVD. I gave him a laugh when I asked if it was a good movie or not. Once again, he thinks my random thoughts are delightful. Yea! I'll be delighting him a lot if that's the case.
We talked on the way back to the mall. He met me there to decrease the chance of me confusing him with directions to my house or our destination. Again, I drove. When we arrived back at the mall parking lot I remarked how it was lit up like Wrigley Field during a night game ... I'm not even sure Wrigley has night games. He understood the direction of my reference. A blindingly bright parking lot does not lend a helping hand to adults who might want to do some old fashioned making out.
We flirted a bit and talked. Between phrases we smooched. That is until my cell phone rang with the strains of my nephew's ringtone. Knowing they were on their way from Loyola, (visiting their mom) I had to answer. JP informed me they were lost. "We missed an exit for 294 or something ... hey! Burger King has tacos for $1.29." It's not a joke. He actually said that. He asked if I was at home and able to Mapquest them home. I told him I was out, but had no problem going to their house (which was closer than mine) to figure out how to get them turned back around. Alton was up for the road trip. I think he was happy the date didn't have to come to an end.
While driving toward sister's house, the phone rang again. This time it was Man-cub. I told him what was going on and he was cool. He just wanted to make contact with dear ol' mom. Shortly after hanging up with Man-cub, JP called to tell me that the Burger King with the $1.29 tacos had Wi-Fi. "We are on Mapquest." Since we were nearly at the house I decided we should still go there and give the dogs a chance to take care of business. I felt it necessary to be available to the boys if they still couldn't get home without my assistance. Plus, it would provide Alton and I an opportunity to be cozy away from bright lights and bucket seats.
If I knew what was awaiting us, I would have never suggested going to my sister's house.
We entered the house through the garage door. I fully expected both dogs, Lady and Ted E. Bear, to greet us wildly. Lady is the elder dog and very well behaved. She casually strolled over. Down the hall I heard Teddy barking maniacally. I was also hit in the nasal cavity with the pungent odor of pooh. Doody. Crap. Dung. Shit. Oh-my-God!
Teddy is a new addition to their family and not house broken. He has learned to jump the baby gate. I've never been a dog owner so I can't suggest what is best in these situations. All I knew as the little pooch had managed to lock himself in the bathroom and had been desperately trying to get out.
From under the door I saw a dingleberry of doo-doo. I turned to Alton and asked that he kiss me because with those crappy circumstances, the night was surely going to take a turn for the worst. I opened the bathroom door and unleashed the frantic canine, "Oh God! Don't let him jump on you! He's covered with pooooooooo!!!"
Turning on the light revealed how frenetic the pooch had become. Clearly he had spazzed out after defecating on the floor. I was at a loss. I couldn't believe it. The tiled floor had dooky schmear in the grout. The back of the door had remnants of his panic to get out. He'd even managed to get some doody flung on the side of the tub. I don't know how he did it.
Alton helped me get both dogs outside and leashed. I kept apologizing. He was calm and comforting. I turned on the television and offered him a beverage to sip on while I cleaned up this awful mess. He took the drink, but didn't sit back and let me take on this vile duty alone.
There was nary a paper towel to be found. I searched high and low to no avail. All the towels were new. Surely a rag, old shirt or something was stuffed away in a box in the garage or under the sink. I paced about and mumbled. Alton kept his sense of humor and offered smiles and pecks as I passed him. The man earned himself many gold stars in the process.
I dug around deeply under the kitchen sink and discovered a couple Handi-Wipes, rubber gloves, a shredded towel and Lysol Anti-Bacterial spray. What I really needed was a pressure washer and a haz-mat suit!
"I'm going to smell like poop!"
I sprayed down the entire surface of the bathroom floor, behind the door and the outer tub.
While that soaked in, I made my way to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. The beverage of the night was margaritas left from the night I stayed with JP. I bought single serving sized bottles when we were at the store. I knew they'd come in handy.
Alton gathered together plastic grocery bags for picking up the bulky poop. I complained that it was sickening and making me gag. "I know baby poop! I'm not a dog pooh person!" Then, "you really don't have to help me do this. I feel so badly. Really, I am sorry. I hoped we'd have some alone time, but this wasn't what I had in mind."
He put my mind at ease telling me he was a dog person and understood the trials of housebreaking a puppy. He didn't whine or gripe once. He just stuck with me through stench and gag.
When I realized Teddy had gotten pooh all over himself, Alton offered to bathe the little guy. I resorted to getting a towel and wetting it to clean off the pup. I felt we'd been through enough already. We scoured our hands and arms when clean up was complete.
We didn't leave the house because I needed to make sure the boys made it home. I made a bag of popcorn, we grabbed our margaritas and headed to the patio. The night air helped clear my head of the smell of feces. We laughed uproariously at the evening's turn of events. As he nuzzled my neck he whispered that I did not reek of puppy pooh.

I sincerely feared he wouldn't want to see me again declaring it all too much drama, but he delighted me with an invitation to go out again this week if our schedules warrant it. I accepted and canoodling commenced.
My nephews arrived home safely. I gave them a synopsis of the pooey situation. They thanked me for cleaning it up and not leaving it for them. I never could have done that. I suspect they would have just closed the bathroom door and left it quarantined until the next day. JP asked Teddy if he wanted to take a bath.
Alton and I made tracks back to the mall. Although I enjoyed that our date didn't end early, I can't help but wonder if all of our dates are going to be this colorful.
This number two date offers these words of wisdom: Even in the face of something truly shitty, good humor and romance can be unearthed and we can come out smelling like a rose.

No title works for this one

With all the daunting and seriousness life has imposed lately, I felt this was a good time for some joy and levity. Lilacspecs was kind enough to expose me to this funky, fun band straight out of Copenhagen (check out her blog. It's groovy. I promise.) I hope you take a minute to push away from the computer desk, slide the laptop from your thighs to get up and dance a little.
Follow up:
Sis is far from being out of the woods, but she is home and resting. Well, sort of. Pain from surgery and angst from general life woes is keeping her from being totally comfortable. MJ, the eldest of her boys, came home from college after only a week of being gone. He needed to see that mom was truly alive and kicking. Typically it is never recommended for a student to return home after only just getting to college. It's a rough transition and he was reluctant to return. Finally this morning, he hopped in his Grand Prix and made tracks back to school. It's a 3 hour drive, but it's where he needs to be. So much is awaiting him. He has no idea how proud this aunt is of his accomplishments and abilities. I tell him, but I think he just believes I'm a goof.
This entire situation has me a little beside myself. It's not necessarily a bad thing, mind you. I've never been faced with having to be responsible for keeping the family informed. Maureen has always taken on that task. I've always been the one to breakdown and cry at the drop of a hat. That was my token role. Well, roles have shifted and I'm discovering a new facet of myself. I do tear up and feel helpless, but there is no doubt that I'm benefiting from the numerous prayers said on my/our behalf from you. God is guiding me. I'm letting HIM. My motto is "Let go; Let God."
In spite of the circumstances regarding my sister, I am presented with joy and light. Not only do I find inspiration in my sister, but those who give her care. Her best friend Kris resides in her home and is selflessly giving of her time and love to look after Maureen, JP and MJ (Maureen's sons.) I find reassurance in her presence. Maureen and the boys find comfort in her giving spirit and love. Kris and I have recently managed to be comfortable communicating openly. She knows she can lean on me and I lean right back.
My sister is in for the fight of her life. She needs to know those who love her are on the battlefield right along side her. And it's my job to make it so.