Oh Boise

I find it difficult for me to explain to others the things that are most important to me. I choke. I get overwhelmed and filled with too much excitement so the efforts to try crumble with a simple adjective. "Amazing" "Wonderful" While those words are good to describe the things that mean the most to me, they don't do a good enough job. Ever.

Long day.

I can't wake up to my alarm anymore, I realized this the past few weeks. It's frustrating.

Today started out... well... late.
I hung out in Boise for a while before I had to work but due to my late awakening I only had about 3 hours.

I saw a very handsome guy walk into Dawson's earlier today, he walked right in and gave me a killer smile. I'm not going to toot my own horn but he kept staring at me. And out of all the empty seats around, he just happened to sit at the table across from mine. For at least an hour he sat at his table on his laptop, looking at me. While I sat at my table on my laptop fully aware of it all. The majority of the time I wondered if he was going to get up and come strike up conversation with me. The truth is, somehow I knew he wasn't going to do that at all, I just wished he was going to. He just finished his drink, packed up his stuff and walked out. To be honest, I was a little bummed but at the same time I was unimpressed.

Is it wrong to be troubled by this? Not about this guy or situation in particular, but about the whole principle. I've seen this happen so many times. It's as if men have lost their ability to be men. The entire and very simple act of persuing, flirting, or even asking someone out on a date has almost completely dissapeared from our everyday lives. Maybe i've just gone a little nuts but what girl in their right mind goes to a public place surrounded by potentionally great guys, and hopes none of them come up to her.

I never go anywhere intentionally to skope out for cute guys, or do all that I can to get one to come up to me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to turn down the oportunity. However, that oportunity that I would love to take rarely ever comes. Call me old fashioned if you want, but I'm not the kind of girl that goes up to a guy. I wait and see if he likes me enough to come and introduce himself. Maybe that's my problem, I'm not agressive like most women now days.

I've had many of my guy friends come to me and say they like a certain person. Once I mention that they should go talk to her or ask her out, they switch into insecure mode. They act as though they've already been turned down or dumpped before they ever get the chance to even try. When did guys become so scared and insecure? The perks of being young and alive have really started to drop. It's not like it used to be. It's too serious now, too stressfull.

Where did the fun go?

The sun

It's another beautiful day. Right now I'm sitting at Dawson's sipping on some soy chai, forgetting about the numerous phone calls I've made and received about community service blah and license suspension blah blah.

The wrongfully occused doesn't mean anything in front of the system. How can you get a DWP if you had no idea your license was suspended in the first place? I'll take it. I'll play the game.
Something good comes out of everything. I know from past experience. 6 months without the ability to drive won't completely kill me, I know it won't, but it will certainly crush a big part of who i am. I am only so much without my freedom.

I'm going to play tennis today, not a lot can cheer me up quite like tennis can.

only by the night....

Lately I've been given the ability to see situations, essentially rough ones, in a perspective that illuminates only joyous and positive realities. It's not playing make-believe or being ignorant to the truth of such matters, it's simply the view I've always wanted to see. I take it as it comes, see it for what it is and realize that though hard times may hit harder and last longer than I want them to, I just don't care.

I don't NEED to worry.

Absolutely nothing in this life is impossible for me or anyone else. Most just let that fact pass them by while they search endlessly for a reason to live.

Now that everyday becomes the best day of my life, I could die right now in this moment and be happy. With a smile on my face and a heart filled with peace I wouldn't be afraid, I wouldn't feel like I missed the boat.

I'm on the boat. In fact, it's a ship. One that does not sink. Does not regret or resist.
God made me fearless. And a life without fear is the only life worth living.

I love having a day off.

It is another beautiful day. Sitting here at Dawson Taylor's. About to go on a wonderful picnic in Hyde park.

Friends welcome.

My Favorite Story

Once Upon A time there lived a sea lion who had lost the sea. He lived in a country known as the barren lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of coarse grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly, it was dust. And sometimes wind, which together make one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert at all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen.

How the sea lion came to the barren lands, no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago. So long, in fact, it appeared as though he had always need there. Not that he belonged in such an arid place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.

There was A time, many years back, when the sea lion knew he was lost. In those days, he would stop every traveler he met to see if he might help him find his way back to the sea.
But no one seemed to know the way.
On he searched, but never finding. After years without success, the sea lion took refuge beneath a solitary tree beside a very small water hole. The tree provided refuge from the burning rays of the sun, which was very fierce in that place. And the water hole, though small and muddy, was wet, in its own way. Here he settled down and got on as best he could.

Had you journeyed in those days through the barren lands, you might have seen the sea lion for yourself. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favorite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.

There he would remain for hours into the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint smell of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.

The sea was calling to him.

The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breezes that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. But as you well know, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the barren lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright.

Eventually, it became too much for him to bear. He began to visit his rock only on occasion. "I have too much to do," he told himself. "I cannot waste my time just idling about." He really did not have so much to do. The truth of it was, waking so far from home was such a disappointment, he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. The day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifted his nose to the wind when the sea breezes blew.


The sea lion was not entirely alone in those parts. For it was there he met the tortoise. Now this tortoise was an ancient creature,so weathered by his life in the barren lands that at first, the sea lion mistook him for a rock. He told the tortoise of his plight, hoping that this wise one might be able to help him. "Perhaps," the tortoise mused, "this is the sea." His eyes appeared to be shut against the bright sun, but he was watching the sea lion very closely. The sea lion swept his flippers against his side, gliding to the end of the water hole and back. "I don't know," he said. "It isn't very deep." "Isn't it?" "Somehow, I thought the sea would be broader, deeper. At least, I hoped so."

"You must learn to be happy here," the tortoise told him one day. "For it is unlikely you shall ever find this sea of yours." Deep in his old and shriveled heart, the tortoise envied the sea lion and his sea. "But I belong to the sea. We are made for each other." "Perhaps. But you have been gone so long now, the sea has probably forgotten you." This thought had never occurred to the sea lion. But it was true, he had been gone for a long, long time. "If this is not my home, how can I ever feel at home here?" the sea lion asked. "You will, in time." The tortoise appeared to be squinting, his eyes a this slit. "I have seen the sea!" "Yes. Come closer," whispered the tortoise, "and I will tell you a secret. I am not a tortoise. I am sea turtle. But I left the sea of my own accord, many years ago, in search of better things. If you stay with me, I will tell you stories of my adventures."

The stories of the ancient tortoise were enchanting and soon cast their spell upon the sea lion. As weeks passed into months, his memory of the sea faded. "The desert," whispered the tortoise, "is all that is, or was, or ever will be." When the sun grew fierce and burned his skin, the sea lion would hide in the shade of the tree, listening to the tales woven by the tortoise. When the dry winds cracked his flippers and filled his eyes with dust, the sea lion would retreat to the water hole. And so the sea lion remained, living his days between water hole and tree. The sea no longer filled his dreams.


It was in May that the winds began to blow. The sea lion had grown used to wind, and at first he did not pay much heed at all. Years of desert life had taught him to turn his back in the direction from which the wind came and cover his eyes with his flippers, so that the dust would not get in. Eventually, the winds would always pass.

But not this time. Day and night it came, howling across the barren lands. There was nothing to stop its fury, nothing to even slow it down. For forty days and forty nights the wind blew. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The sea lion lifted himself to have a look around. He could hardly believe his eyes.

Every single leaf had been stripped from his tree. The branches that remained, with only a twig or two upon the, looked like an old scarecrow. And I do not need to tell you that there was no longer any shade in which to hide. But worse than this, much worse indeed, was what the sea lion saw next. The water hole was completely dry.


Three weeks after the wind ceased to blow, the sea lion had a dream. Now, as I told you before, there were other nights in which he had dreamed of the sea. But those were long ago and nearly forgotten. Even still, the ocean that filled his dreams this night was so beautiful and clear, so vast and deep, it was as if he were seeing it for the very first time. The sunlight glittered on its surface, and as he dived, the waters all around him shone like an emerald. If he swam quite deep, it turned to jade, cool and dark and mysterious. But he was never frightened, not at all. For I must tell you that in all his dreams of the sea, he had never before found himself in the company of other sea lions. This night there were many, round about him, diving and turning, spinning and twirling. They were playing.

Oh, how he hated to wake from that wonderful dream. The tears running down his face were the first wet thing he had felt in three weeks. But he did not pause even to wipe them away, he did not pause, in fact, for anything at all. He set his face to the east, and he began to walk as best a sea lion can.

"Where are you going?" asked the tortoise.
"I am going to find the sea."

Easter

Easter, It was a beautiful Sunday.
I've done many things in my life i'm not too proud of, memories keep coming to the surface. Easter has always been a memorable day in my own personal history.

I helped my brother accomplish something today that I hope will make a difference in his life and the lives of those who love him. My head is hurting, I get the worst headaches lately. Emotionally drained is what you could call it.

I needed a sunny day. I did.

God is a sly one, but goodness He loves me a lot. I'm provided proof of that each and every day. No words have yet been able to discribe it.