Attention K-Mart Shoppers

So, for those who know me, it's no surprise that I like to shop.  As a matter of fact, I use shopping as a coping mechanism.  Shopping, or even browsing around a store soothes my mind.  When I'm particularly stressed, bothered, nerve-wrecked or ulcer-inducing upset, shopping tends to take my mind off of things for a little bit.  Needless to say, I've been shopping around a lot lately.

Winter

was it really
years ago
did you need me
well, I'll never know
I'm sorry for clinging
I'm sorry for wanting more
my heart was there for you pounding down your door
maybe it was timing
maybe I was too much
running behind you pushing my love
well, you weren't ready
and you said you thought I knew
but I was taken with your beautyI was lost inside of you
winter made a sound
maybe next time if you need meI’ll be around... I'll be around... I'll be around
I'll be around

I never meant to swallow you
you never were my savior maybe just my lover
maybe nothing more

now one more winter
has passed so silently
and I'm tired of longing
that you'll come back to me

winter made a sound
maybe next time if you need me... yeah… you'll need me
and winter made a soundI know… if you need meI'll be around… I'll be around… I'll around
I'll be around

~East Mountain South

I heard somebody say
Today's the day
A big old hurricaine
Is blowing our way
Knocking over the buildings
Killing all the light
Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night

Forgiveness~ Patty Griffin from 'Living with Ghosts'

Rolling Thunder

Have I ever told you that the longest I was ever in one school was through college?  Yep, all four years.  My mom still lives in the house into which we moved when I was seven months old, but due to different conveniences/opportunities, I switched schools every couple of years throughout elementary and then junior high and high school were only three years each.  So, college was the longest I ever stayed at one school.

I lived in the same bedroom in which my parents placed my crib until the eighth grade, at which time I moved into the basement bedroom until I left for college and even then I came home to that room the first couple of summers.  I lived in the same dorm room for two years and then the same apartment for the next two.  I just moved out of my apartment in which I lived for the past two of the nearly-three years I've lived in Nashville.

I like Nashville.  I like the town and the people.  I like the friends I've made here and the families of which I've grown to feel a part.  But sometimes things happen and no where is big enough or small enough to hide from what/who you don't want to see.  I definitely get a wanderlust, a feeling of restlessness, a rumbling threat of thunder and lightening stirring in my soul and this is part of what's happening now.  I'm not done with Nashville for good-- but I could definitely be done with it for a month or so.  You know, just long enough to get away, heal from some hurtful things and miss the loving ones.  Now if only I could just unleash the storm.

Nosing Around

I know I've written before about the amazing memory/emotion triggers in the human olfactory lobes, but I've become overwhelmed by them once again, and therefore must reiterate.

Since I've "grown up" and left home, I've become acutely aware of what surroundings, sounds, sights, savors and of course, smells, provide an overwhelming, unexpected comfort.  A few weeks ago, when I started this post, I experienced this comfort from the oddest place, the pet store.  Now, I suppose a lot of people may find pet stores comforting, what with the happy puppies wagging their tails and the little kittens who long to curl up in your lap or wrap themselves around your shoulders.  For me, however, it was the mere smell of the pet store-- an odd smell I've always equated with bird seed, although I don't like birds-- the sight of chew toys and squeaky rubber balls, the sound of bubbling fish tanks off to the side.  All of these things reminded me of home, of security and of times of joy and love.

See, my dad bred, raised and trains dogs-- still does.  Actually, he should have a litter of pups any day now.  Even though the pet store I ventured into a few weeks ago is some large commercial place, it reminded me of the small store we'd go to on the north side of town to pick up large bags of special dog food and rawhides and anything else.  I'd wander around that store while my dad took care of business and that smell of bird seed I guess just infiltrated my nostrils and clung to my mental sensors like barbecue to your ribs or peanut butter to the roof of your mouth. 

I bring this up again today because I've found another trigger, another haven in the storm: the library.  I've never sat down and thought about how much time I've spent in libraries until a couple of days ago.  I mean, sure, I spent most of my junior high after-school afternoons in the library, but that was because they wouldn't let transfer students ride the bus anymore, even though it stopped at my street anyway (the border went right down the middle of my street and I lived on the "wrong" side and therefore had to transfer to go to my school).  So, when I didn't have an after-school activity or friend's house to go to, I would simply walk to the library and wait there for my mom to get off work; two hours later.  Needless to say, I rarely had a hard time getting my homework done in those days.  On Fridays the library closed at 5pm, so I had to wait in the lobby or outside until my mom could get there thirty minutes later.  (Think winters in Wisconsin---brrrrrr--froze my little tukas off)  yay for after-school activities. 

 
But the library thing goes back further than that.  In my day care, we would have "library day" each week when we would walk down to the downtown library and get to check out a book.  We would always have a waiting list to check out "The Dark Crystal."  The library was beautiful-- divided downstairs with a balcony second floor so you could look down onto the first.  Thinking about it, I get the feeling Belle might have had when the Beast gave her his library.  I don't think I've been there since high school.

In college I would bury myself in the "cages" as they were called-- the little desks lining the stacks of the Memorial Library in I needed to get some serious reading, outlining or other homework not requiring a computer done.  Most times I'd bring my headsets and just lose myself to the world around me.  Sometimes I'd sit in the almost-silence of rustling pages, scribbling pens and the harried breathing of my fellow crammers.  Between classes, I would sink into a large leather chair in the Art Library-- sometimes to study, sometimes to simply fall asleep until the bells rang once again. 

Even now, when I want to run away I find myself heading to a library.  Oft times I pretend to look something up under academic guise.  Usually, I just want to be in the near-quiet of the anthology-padded walls with the smell of old bindings wafting through the air and the sporadic sounds of catalogue viewership as another traveler finds rest in the form of this tranquil haven. 

Noted Absurdities
 

During an argument, a Florida man swung a 3-foot alligator that he was keeping in his bathtub at his girlfriend.  You know, if she was dating a man who kept a 3-foot gator in his bathtub, she may have just asked for that... Read more

 

Closer to home-- This morning at the gas station, one man was buying another man's coffee.  The cashier asked the man fixing his coffee what size it was so she could ring it up.  Not only did he not remember what stack he grabbed the cup from, when she told him it was written on the bottom of the cup, he held up his *full* coffee cup and tipped it over to look underneath the cup.  She meant it was written in the brown trim *along* the bottom rim of the cup.  Poor, coffee-spilling guy-- he must not be from 'round these parts. 

 

I went to bed at 5 o'clock last night.  wow.

The Rant That Was

About 2 hours ago I was planning on logging in and publicly lambasting my bank. I was going to convey how they have continued to screw me over time and again in the past six months. I was going to warn anyone from ever doing business with them. I was going to suggest anyone that might even be employed by them to find another job, because they would surely go under due to their lack of customer service and over-all suckage. Basically, I was going to rant and rave until my poor little fingers grew numb from flailing and the tips bloody from violent typing.

Then I went to said bank and they reimbursed me for all the money they had screwed me out of in the past four months and apologized profusely, guaranteeing to repeal any further mishaps, as well. Therefore pacifying the beast that was a fervent rant and calming the post that could have been. But at least I'm happier now. = )


And yet, I know this feeling all too well...
If I had a car I'd drive straight into the window of a bank I owed money to ~ Ryan Adams

Speaking of "dark horses"...

This comic couldn't be more me if it tried.

Awwww, Someone Believes in Me!!!

The following is an email response among our group of college friends:

"All right with K officially engaged and off the market-- whose next to drop? Smart Money's on C.... but I have the dark horse [Lady M] to come in by a hair...

Who wants in on the pool?"


Aww, it's so nice someone still believes in me. Wait, "dark horse"... is she calling me fat?!?!?!? heh heh.

The Importance of Understanding Your Jewish History

A friend once brought to question how to interpret the following section of the Lord's Prayer: Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. My friend admitted that he does not always forgive in a manner worthy of proclaiming this verse, a realization to which I myself have come time and again. We pondered the consequences of our lack of forgiveness. If I haven't forgive others, does that mean God won't forgive me? Have not all my sins been already forgiven on Christ's Cross?

The other night, in reading a book by a woman, Lauren Winner, who first committed her life to Orthodox Judaism and then later converted to Christianity, I was once again faced with the necessity of understanding Jewish history, culture and religion in interpreting any part of the Bible. Winner states, "On Yom Kippur, Jews confess their sins, both privately and corporately. Before the holiday begins, they go around asking the forgiveness of everyone they have wronged; the Talmud [oral Rabbinic works believed to have been given to Moses on Sinai] teaches that God forgives the sins we've done against Him freely, but He will not forgive the sins we've done against our neighbors until they have forgiven us first. One Jewish prayer book puts it this way: God's forgiveness for us is our forgiveness of other people running through us."

So, to pray to forgive us as we forgive others, is in reference to seeking forgiveness. As others seek forgiveness of us, we are to seek it from God. It is a confession that we need forgiveness, that we must seek it from God and from others. It is an acknowledgement that every Lord's Prayer may open our reconciliation, every day may be our day of atonement, our Yom Kippur.

Update

Just so y'all know, there's no need to mail any rusty knives to me. I'm golden. But thanks to those who offered! Crazy kids.

Something in the Water

Don't know what it is, but there's a virus going around potential Nashvillian relationships. The male species tends to catch it first, which somehow disables any phone usage on his part. The girl, subsequently, fights it off for a few days and then has a major physical reaction to this retched virus. I'm seeing it all over the place folks, and it ain't pretty.

The few outbursts I have witnessed have seen varying outcomes from "let's be friends" to "I'm swearing off relationships for good!"

Hold on to your possible significant other and purify all liquids, seal yourselves into quarantined areas if you have to until the epidemic passes.

Lady M, P.R.E. News, Signing out. *krrrctch*