Kid Friends

(I imagine I have shared this here already, but it is on my mind yet again, and so I will share it again. ¬†ūüėõ )

Do you remember what it was like to make new friends as a little kid?  Perhaps it was different by generation, but, in my generation, it was really simple:
“You wanna be friends?!”
“Yeah, okay!”
And that was that – you’ve got a new friend, possibly even a¬†best friend. ¬†Nowadays, as an adult, I feel as though people think I’m totally nuts and unfortunately childish whenever I present a similar conversation… I’m starting to realize that I don’t really care. ¬†Sure, I want the new friend, but perhaps we aren’t meant to be friends if the person is put off by my question of wanting to be friends. ¬†You know what I mean? ¬†Because asking just like little kids ask is natural to me; it’s part of being true to myself. ¬†I’m not being purposely childish and avoiding being an adult when I ask – I’m genuinely excited at the prospect, and hoping that the person will be just as excited as I am at having a new friend.

I also mean it, too, about being actual friends. ¬†Not just Facebook friends or any of that nonsense – actual friends who talk with one another and do things together and enjoy and explore life together; friends who help one another become the best version of themselves. ¬†A friend is someone who helps you be the best person you can be. ¬†A priest actually said that once to a group of us, and I’ve always remembered it. ¬†And¬†that‘s the kind of friend I’m always looking for, asking for, and also wanting to be for others. ¬†My best friend and I are like that with one another, and it’s wonderful. ¬†However, we definitely don’t live near one another (try 4,811 miles apart, approximately), so it’s nice to have other people around, closer, who can be friends, too. ¬†ūüôā

I’m not so sure why people seem so uninterested in that kind of relationship with me, though. ¬†Perhaps I scare them… I am a bit much to take in under certain circumstances, especially when it comes to my saying openly things that people often are not straight about. ¬†(Not like I’m vulgar and offensive, because I really don’t promote cursing or vulgarity at all… but I answer honestly when someone asks how I’m doing, or what I think of the food, or even how an outfit looks on someone… it just isn’t worth it to me to lie. ¬†I don’t¬†want my friend to go out looking horrendous in some dress making her look fat and lumpy, do I? ¬†[No, I do not.] ¬†And I don’t have to be mean about saying it, but I do have to tell the truth. ¬†At least, I strive always to tell the truth, as well as to be appropriate with how I express it.) ¬†I don’t know… I guess the right people will show up in the right places at the right times. ¬†Maybe they’ll even ask me if¬†I want to be friends with¬†them, instead of the other way around.

Here’s to finding spectacular friends, y’all. ¬†ūüėÄ

Post-a-day 2018

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Crazy lady travels free

I was just thinking about when my coworker and I took a group of kids to England and France a few summers ago, and things associated with that.  At the end of the trip, I stayed in France to go visit my old stomping grounds down south, and so I left the group to go home on a flight with my coworker (per our own full agreement and arrangement ahead of time).  I waited too long to decide to do that, so I had to pay $350 for the flight change (Ugh).  We also each had to pay $937.50 for the trip in the first place (Meh).  Therefore, I had to pay a total of $1287.50 for a 10-day trip that included all accommodations, food, tours, and transport, and another ten days on location at my own expense, which is really not bad at all.  At all.

However – and this is a BIG however – as part of our arranging and hosting this trip in the first place, the tour company gave us each a training trip.

Mine, as I selected it, was a long weekend trip, with food, housing, tours, and transportation included, to downtown Rome, Italy.  Therefore, my just-under 1300 dollars actually got me two separate trips to Europe, with almost all expenses paid for most of the time on the trips.

I really do come up with the craziest stuff to have happen in my life. ¬†And – what is possibly the best part of this all – I don‚Äôt even seem to notice how absurd it all is, until I find myself ruminating on this and thats one afternoon, years later, and it suddenly hits me that, say, taking a free trip to Europe is not a normal thing in life. ¬†I take this moment to nod my head to my cousin for the question she exasperatedly declared one evening at my apartment a few years ago: “Hannah, do you even¬†know what real life is like?”

Indeed, fair cousin, it seems I do not know that most of the time – reality bites, so I live somewhere else, and I love it. ¬†ūüôā

Post-a-day 2018

Bliss on the winds

Walking, walking, I hear the swish-chh, swish-chh of my steps through the ankle-high grass, plants, and flowers. ¬†Taller grass lines my path, and flowers surround me in any direction, waving delicately in the wind, reminding me ever so slightly of bobble heads and those dashboard dancing creatures. ¬†The wind makes a muffled howl over my ears as it whoos around and past me, giving me the perfect balance of cool air and hot sunlight. ¬†My hair whispies whisp around my face like the pitter-patter of raindrops on my face during yesterday‚Äôs sprinkles. ¬†Goats bleh at nothing in particular ahead of me, frolicking in the grass and climbing in the trees, occasionally falling out like it‚Äôs no big deal. ¬†I see one of the new babies following suit, monkey see, monkey do… for goats… ¬†I want to bottle this up (and take it everywhere with me, so I can pull it out whenever I am sad), runs through my head. ¬†But I know that it would be odd, bottling something that, in itself, expresses freedom, openness, and ease. ¬†You Can‚Äôt bottle this – that‚Äôs the point. ¬†That‚Äôs why it is so special. ¬†That‚Äôs why I am here right now. ¬†Because God and the world knew it was perfect for me right now. ¬†And it is perfection.

Grace, followed by gratitude and love.  That is my today.

Post-a-day 2018

Easter, again

To finish up the Easter, I share what my mom shared with me this morning.
‘Kay, go for your Easter Egg Hunt. ¬†There’s one egg. ¬†It’s hidden already.’
‘…Wha..?’ I frown at her.
She wiggles like a puppy that can’t sit still, and I know for sure that something is up, and that she’s about to break.
She laughs, and I know I’m getting it, whatever it is, now. ¬†‘That’s what R- said. ¬†Because it’s April Fools, tell the kids, ‘Okay, kids. ¬†Go look for your Easter Eggs now!’ but don’t actually have any hidden.’
‘That’s terrible,’ I say as I join her laughter, shaking my head.

Happy Easter, and Happy April First!
P.S. Did you see John Legend and that gloriously surprising cast tonight? ¬†More importantly, did you HEAR them?! ¬†Check it out. It was fab. ¬†Jesus Christ Superstar Live ūüôā

How do You shave?

One of my favorite memories from my childhood is the time my brother, sister, and I bonded over shaving legs in the living room. ¬†You see, our dad’s house used to be a duplex, and so the upstairs and downstairs had the same floorpan, giving the girls – the upstairs lots – our very own living room. ¬†It was normal circumstances for us girls and maybe a girlfriend of one of theirs to hang out on lazy afternoons and evenings there. ¬†Occasionally, our bother would join us. ¬†On one particular night, my eldest sister had decided to allow me to shave her legs for her, while we watched some television show. ¬†I was around eight or ten years old.

In my panic of doing it, worried that I would slice open her leg or something, my brother joined in on the adventure, to show that it was definitely doable by me, since he had never shaved legs, but¬†he was able to do it safely. ¬†And so, he shaved her left leg, and I shaved her right, while she lay on the rug in the living room. ¬†Such beautiful sibling bonding time. ¬†ūüėõ

Post-a-day 2018

Cleaning out, finding magnificence

I found one of the boxes that contained my childhood writing yesterday. ¬†I mostly did poetry, but this one had some of my vocabulary paragraphs and my topic-writes and free-writes. ¬†Therefore, it’s about to get middle-school-original up in here, and very soon. ;D

Post-a-day 2018

Tasty Ice and Salt

Do you know what a salt lamp is? ¬†Well, I just realized that I have one. ¬†And it’s in my room. ¬†And I’m quite excited about it all of a sudden. ¬†And, naturally, feel a silliness rising, too. ¬†You see, with salt lamps, just like with ice sculptures, I have an urge to lick them whenever I see them illuminated. ¬†Okay, the illuminated part isn’t exactly the same with ice sculptures, but the licking desire is.

I remember my brothers’ dad’s wedding over a decade ago (I think that was the occasion, anyway), and how there was an ice sculpture there at the reception. ¬†My cousin commented how she wanted to lick it – perhaps it was a swan, if I remember correctly? – when we were standing in front of it. ¬†‘So, lick it,’ was approximately my response.

Sure enough, she licked it.  We both did, actually, because her desire rubbed off onto me somehow.  (It actually started a trend for me, for whenever parties have ice sculptures.  I remember shocking a few classmates, when I casually passed by and licked a huge ice sculpture at a school event.)  We were still kids, but we knew well enough that it was not a normal behavior, and so were stealthy about it.  But we totally licked the ice sculpture.

Now, I have a similar situation with salt lamps. ¬†Though, since they aren’t something that will melt away in a matter of hours, and they’ll stick around for quite some time afterward, and have been around for a while, I don’t lick them. ¬†Usually, though, I just touch it gently with a finger or two, and then smoothly lick the salt off my fingers.

Of course, now you know about my sneaky – and somewhat weird, really – habits at parties and salt-lamp-containing spaces. ¬†Just don’t give me away, okay? ¬†If anything, give the ice sculpture thing a go yourself. ¬†It’s surprisingly rewarding, the whole affair. ¬†;D

Post-a-day 2018