Thump-thump, to the beat

Once again, my heart is ablaze at the sound of the same man’s voice…

I first heard him sing just over a year ago, amidst a chorus-filled song, when his crystalline voice suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, pierced through the rest, and took my heart with it as its reverberations dissipated through the room…

To me, it was the voice of a man delighted and in love, sharing his delight with the world.

Today, and this week, hearing it again, I cannot but feel my entire stomach convulse and my heart pause in awe, before thumping with intensity and fervor, longing to follow and to stay with such a voice, such an expression.

His voice has my heart forever, I declared… and I told it to him, too, even before hearing him sing again today… that’s how lovely it is, and how strongly it sticks in my memory.

It’s funny what I thought of while considering it all afterward… when I lived in Japan, there was a brief time, shortly after moving there, that I had two phone buddies who also had just moved there.

One of them and I had both procured guitars, and so, one night, while talking, instead of hanging up and having to call back after her shower, the friend just left the phone on speaker, and I practiced some guitar and singing.

We joked that I was serenading her during her shower (which led to the telling of another silly story from college of my doing something similar).

When I told later my other phone buddy, he jokingly yet in earnest asked where his serenading was.

And so, one night before bed, I sang him some music… naturally, with its being just before bed and his being who he is, he fell asleep while I sang to him.

Basically, as we say now, I sang him to sleep.

And so, today, after hearing this tantalizingly beautiful voice sing, I recalled my phone buddy’s demanding question, and I found myself saying (silently to myself, that is) that I want to have his voice sing me to sleep at night… oh, couldn’t I, please?

You can just call me every night before you go to bed, if I haven’t called you yet (because I tend to go to bed at all different hours, depending on the week), and you can just sing me a lovely little song, and then we’ll hang up and I’ll go directly to sleep.

Done.

Easy peasy.

Let’s do it.

Let me have your number – here’s mine.

Date whomever you want; just call me every night to sing to me.

πŸ˜‚

So, yeah… those were my thoughts all afternoon…

Post-a-day 2020

The key mono (thing) to a girl’s heart…

is a beautiful kimono that accentuates her natural beauty, and has her feel beautiful.

Okay, not really, but that’s still a great thing to have.

Today’s theme is kimono.

Why?

Well, because I finally went kimono browsing-slash-shopping again at my old beloved store.

That second-hand shop that has a little bit of almost everything.

I bought a traditional Japanese instrument and its case (together labeled only “Jyanku Paatsu”*, but without any actual name for the instrument), which is totally gorgeous, and which seems like it would work great, if we just replaced the strings, which are similar to guitar and the likes.

I tried on some Timberlands (one of the shoes for which I’ve been keeping an eye open the past few years), and enjoyed looking at all the dish ware.

But then I practically began hyperventilating when I reached the kimono section and began to look around it.

Gorgeous.

Gorgeous.

GORGEOUS.(!!!)

Of course, I purchased several today… getting them home with no car counted for my workout of the day… it was rough and very heavy.

Now I just have to go get some obis and the haori ties and the Obie over-ties and, maybe, a hyoku.

Then, perhaps, socks from the 100Β₯…(?), if they don’t have any here.

Yeah… anyway, I’m exhausted.

Goodnight! ❀

*Translates to Junk Parts, aka the instrument doesn’t work properly

That Hunk

Okay, can I just have a Scott Eastwood, please?

I don’t need to describe any tall, dark, and handsome details – simply saying ‘a Scott Eastwood’ will do the trick.

Golly, he’s just darn gorgeous.

And just the right age, too.

So, the real Scott Eastwood can continue his film star life – although I should have truly loved to meet his parents, his dad in particular – and I’ll take someone who’s just like him but meant for me, okay?

Okay, thanks, World.

Sounds good.

πŸ˜›

Dear me… Dirty Harry, you done well with that one, at least… and the world is grateful… whoo(!).

I know I am being silly here (and I hope you can tell, too), but I truly am grateful for Scott Eastwood… he is a quite good actor (in the role I’ve seen so far, anyway), and he just lights up the world around him… even if I never see him in person, I am forever grateful that his beauty is present in this world…

I don’t mean to objectify or demean him, here…. for the sake of a comparison: it is like how flowers are for more than being seen and smelled, but they sure do help to make the world a more beautiful place…, and Scott Eastwood is a fabulous flower in the garden of our world.

P.S. Just watched “The Longest Ride”, again.

Post-a-day 2019

Roomself

I’ve been contemplating the state of my room a lot lately… and I think I’ve come to the understanding that I am letting my fear determine what I do with it (or, in this case, what I do not do).

You see, I live in a space that could actually be set up in a really cool and awesome and self-expressive way… totally.

And yet, I still haven’t done that, and I’m kind of really far from it being that way.

And, every day on which I seem to have oodles of time to work on it, I just don’t do it.

I’m scared of having my room be that way, because I’m scared of being the person who has her roomy that way: totally awesome and comfortable and organized and spacious, yet artsy in a down-to-Earth and sometimes nerdy way… and cultured.

Like the beautiful Marianne Williamson quote says, I’m am frightened by my light, by how amazing I could be, can be.

And, by not doing anything about my room, I am letting that fear take over.

But avoidance is much easier than action, than taking on the real stuff.

So, the question now awaits my response: Will I take on this fear of my own greatness, and create my room to match the life I want to lead and can lead?

Post-a-day 2019

T-shirts

To this day, I remember Kristin L— in the bathroom at middle school, saying that the ideal roll for a t-shirt sleeve was two rolls up…

To this day, I still agree with her…

And I think of her just about every time I roll or consider rolling my t-shirt sleeves…

And, every time I think of her in this scenario, I have a fleeting moment of physical memory of my nervousness, my sense of not-quite-adequacy I always had around her… I envied her, and, at times, longed to be her (she, of course)… I watched her, observed her, taking in the lessons.

What did I love so much about her?

Well, she was somewhat popular, but it wasn’t so much that as the qualities and attributes that made her popular that had me longing most.

She danced.

I eventually became a world champion dancer (yes, I have an actual world title).

She did the French tuck with her t-shirts, and rolled the sleeves up twice, always looking fabulous.

I now do that when I feel like with my t-shirts (instead of being too scared of declared to be “copying”, and then not doing it st all).

She wore bras that looked feminine.

I eventually got there, but have found my own version of balancing feminine with natural and with comfortable.

She was confident in life (mostly, anyway… an air of general confidence, we’ll say).

I am comfortable in who I am, and am generally confident in myself and about life as a whole (though the rough bits get to me at times).

She had a Jeep destined to her, horses to visit, and a determined location for college.

I had lots of openness and no-idea-ness for my far future, and kind of still do…, but I embrace it as a dream board to collage nowadays… and I’ve been interning with horses, learning to care for and ride them, too…

All of this made her gorgeous in my eyes.

The comfortable self-confidence projects radiance from my own eyes, and I find myself staring at smiling me in the mirror on many of the good days, and even on some of the not-too-good ones… the rest of my accomplishments have little to do with the beauty I see and admire in myself.

Yet, there is still something about her that makes my insides feel clenchy and hollow and longing, whenever I think about her or her life at present… I still little girl style long to be more like her (she)… to be her (she)… even though I know I want to be myself… that little girl still longs for something unsatisfied in the relationship, it seems, and I’m not sure what it is…

Perhaps I could write her a letter, read it aloud, as though to her (but not actually to her), and then let it all go… perhaps that would handle it all for me.

Yes, I think I’ll give that a go next week (because I still have final papers for this week to do).

Wish me luck and freedom! πŸ˜€

Post-a-day 2019

Dirty Dancing Magic

Have you ever seen the film “Crazy, Stupid, Love”, with Ryan Gosling and Steve Carell (among other familiar faces)? Β (If you haven’t, you can watch it on Netflix!) Β ***If you don’t want anything ruined from the movie, do not read this next part.*** Β Remember the scene where Emma Stone’s character asks Ryan Gosling’s what his line is for getting girls to sleep with him? Β So, he finally comes out with the fact that he does the “Dirty Dancing” lift. Β She doesn’t believe him, but they do the lift anyway, and, of course, she totally falls for him at the end of the lift.

So, why is this relevant?

You see, I do acro-yoga – at least, I have re-started doing acro-yoga again, after a three-ish-year break. Β The other night, at a sort of practice/hangout session (called a “jam”), one of the guys offered to test out a certain standing lift with me. Β It was not the most basic option, so we agreed to do the simpler option first. Β And what was that option? Β The “Dirty Dancing” lift.

It definitely takes effort from both parties to make it work properly, so the “Crazy, Stupid, Love” version makes it look too simple. Β “Dirty Dancing” is definitely closer to the kind of effort it actually would take a newbie flyer/follow to pull off the lift. Β I’ve done lifts in dance routines before, and even a throw/toss, so I’m practiced in the concept of lifts, but I’ve never done that particular lift in a routine. Β Anyway, so it took a few almosts, and then we had the lift down perfectly.

And it felt like flying… or something. Β I’ve never actually flown (I think), so I can’t actually compare anything to flying, but it definitely felt magical and like I was more than just physically ‘above’ everything around me – I felt like I was on a higher plane of life. Β And, of course, that I was utterly beautiful in this specific position, muscles flexed beautifully, like a fairy zooming overhead.

And this guy helped me to be in this position – it was because ofΒ him that I was in such a place of wonder and beauty…. I suddenly totally could get why girls would want to ravish the guy who did that lift with them. Β Fortunately, I knew the guy and the general activity well enough to keep him and the actual task separate from one another in my head. Β Otherwise, I would have been a total mess full of goo-goo eyes for him forΒ weeks. Β But I fully understood what could be so attractive, so sexy, so desirable about doing that lift. Β I mean, how often do people normally put me into a place of magical wonder, and make me feel more beautiful than the whole world? Β (Perhaps your life is different from mine, but I’ll let you know: It is extremely rare for me.) Β πŸ˜›

That being said, I have two things: 1) Totally try out acro-yoga, because it’s a blast and is totally easy, even if you aren’t super fit or anything. Β 2) I recommend giving the “Dirty Dancing” lift a try at some point in your life, guy or girl, because it is magical and awesome (as I have already mentioned multiple times). Β πŸ™‚

Post-a-day 2018