"Closer" by Ne-Yo

This is my current favorite song - turn it up!

OMG, I'm Old

I'm starting to feel old. Plus I'm single and have no kids and I can no longer deny that I probably will never have kids. I'm approaching my 38th birthday, so time is running out. On top of that, I have issues related to poor health which are likely to cause me to have trouble conceiving a child to begin with. It just doesn't look like it's going to happen. I can accept that. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have my own child. But if I never get that chance I know I will be fine. For one thing, I have already decided that I want to be a foster parent - as soon as I get my finances to the point where I am able to support myself in my own place without a roommate.

Realizing I am getting old, combined with the recent decline and passing of my grandpa, have gotten me to a point where I'm feeling very sentimental and loving. I want to just pull everyone in close to me and spend as much time with my family as possible. Not just time, but quality time. I want to be all mushy and cheesy and tell everyone I love them every 5 minutes. I desire hugs.

So it really sucks that I have noticed myself becoming a cranky, nagging butthead. I seem to have lost control of my mouth completely. You know you've got to be irritating everyone else when you actually irritate yourself. I find myself venting to family members about what other family members do that frustrate me. NOT COOL. And for some reason I keep sticking my nose into business that does not concern me, such as what everyone elses kids are doing. NOT COOL. It's like I think everyone should raise their children by my morals and standards. But there are several things wrong with this: a) I don't have any children so I have no experience in raising any b) not everyone has the same morals and standards as everyone else, but that doesn't make them wrong c) each child has a different personality and has to be handled differently to a certain degree d) they are not my kids so as long as they are not doing something that will hurt them or someone else - it's none of my business.

I don't know why these things have become an issue with me. I'm not someone whose unhappy or depressed. I don't even get frustrated very often. It's just that I seem to be suffering from sudden (thankfully short) bursts of crankiness that result in me popping off at the mouth and then 10 seconds later being apalled by what I just said. And embarassed about it, sorry for it, etc. Maybe it's simply stress from everything that's been happening. Maybe it's because my best friends are my cousins and siblings instead of someone outside the family and I have held in stuff that I should have been venting because I didn't want to talk about family to other family. It seems like the most plausible cause for my recent crankiness is just because I've let the tiniest of things build up for sooooo long that it is starting to bubble out on top of any little thing it can grab hold of. Maybe I should try to find an outlet where I can vent about these little things before they build up and become so hard to control. I don't want to use a journal because I would hate for someones feelings to get hurt if they found it and read it. I can't do it on the blog because some of my family reads it. Any ideas? Who wants to meet me for coffee every Wednesday at 4:00 so I can get each week of my chest?

In Memory Of Grandpa

This is the song Grandma requested be played. It's one that her and Grandpa always loved.

"Beyond The Sunset" by Hank Williams

Should you go first and I remain to walk the road alone
I'll live in mem'ry's garden dear with happy days we've known
In spring I'll wait for roses red when fades the lilacs blue
And in early fall when brown leaves call I'll catch a glimpse of you
Should you go first and I remain for battles to be fought
Each thing you've touched along the way will be a hallowed spot
I'll hear your voice I'll see your smile though blindly I may grope
The mem'ry of your helping hand will buoy me on with hope
Beyond the sunset oh blissful morning when with our Saviour heaven is begun
Earth's toiling ended oh glorious dawning beyond the sunset when day is done

Should you go first and I remain to finish with the scroll
No less than shadows shall ever creep in to make this life seem droll
We've known so much of happiness we've had our cup of joy
And memory is one gift of God that death cannot destroy
I want to know each step you take that I may walk the same
For someday down that lonely road you'll hear me call your name
Should you go first and I remain one thing I'll have you do
Walk slowly down that long long path for soon I'll follow you
In that fair homeland we'll know no parting beyond the sunset for evermore

Rude People: My Fault Or Theirs?

Yesterday, I stopped into a convenience store for the sole purpose of getting myself a fountain drink. I specify that so you will be able to picture me walking into the store and heading straight over to the soda fountain. No pauses, no distractions. Straight to the soda fountain. I didn't even pause to gaze longingly at the donuts. Seriously. I'm very proud of myself.

Once I arrived directly in front of the machine I did pause for a few seconds to make sure they have Diet Pepsi and to decide how monsterous I want my cup to be. Keep in mind that I was NOT standing with my belly pushed up against the counter. I was actually about an arm's length away. I find it's easier to manuever that way. Maybe I'm crazy. If I were bellied up too close I would have to lean back just to get the cup filled up.

Can you see me there? Just getting ready to reach out and grab a cup? Now picture a big, sweaty, unattractive man wearing a bandanna headband and a muscle shirt suddenly appear next to me. Before I even registered he was there, he was between me and the soda fountain and was filling a cup. Never looked towards me or acknowledged my existance in any way. And when he was finished getting his drink he just stepped away and was gone. This is the sort of thing that happens to me all the time. In fact, after I finally got my own soda and paid for it I was following a couple of blokes out the door and they didn't even hold it open and make sure I cleared it. Just let it slam against me as I was halfway out.

I've always just kind of shook my head and wondered why I inevitabley seem to find the rude people. But I'm starting to think it's my fault as much as theirs. I just seem to be one of those people who blend in with my surroundings and don't really stand out for any reason. Maybe the sweaty guy wasn't being rude and cutting in front of me yesterday. Maybe he didn't notice me. I never speak up for myself. It might have made a difference if I would have said "excuse me sir, I was here first". Although who really says things like that? Honestly. I mean, I know there are people who will speak up. But about something so petty as getting a fountain drink? Doubtful. Except for the assholes of the world, of course. But my point is, I do try to stay out of peoples ways and I am a very quiet person. I'm always mindful of politeness and manners and I make sure and avoid any type of confrontation. I know I am very easy to overlook because even my own mother talks over my every sentence, as if she isn't even aware I'm speaking at all. It's been happening my whole life. So is it my fault? Do I need to wear obnoxiously bright colors and START SPEAKING IN ALL CAPS? Or are there just way too many rude people in the world?

Poetry

I absolutely love reading poetry, although I admit it's a habit I seem to have strayed away from and do not devote enough time to anymore. For that matter, reading in general has slowed down for me. Referring to reading books, of course. I certainly spend a lot of time reading the internet, I just don't think that has the same quality. Either way, thanks to Amy's post I now have poetry stuck in my head and I thought I would share with you what 3 of my favorite poems are.

"The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. It's too long to post here in it's entirety.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."


"Trees" by Alfred Joyce Kilmer.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.


And last, but not least - a poem by Stephen Crane that no one seems to know the exact title of. Apparently it came from a collection called "The Black Riders and Other Lines". Some people (including me) call this one "The Heart" while others call it "In The Desert". No matter the title, it somehow speaks to me very powerfully.

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter -- bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."