6-28-09

So after graduation and many trips out to Tim’s farm, our family agreed a few weeks ago that we are going to make a point to get together at least once a month.  Today was the day for June, and we had a good time.  Here are a few shots of the family/kidlets.  It certainly isn’t all of them, but I didn’t want to put a million pictures here.

Mom and my brother, Donnie.

Makinna’s crazy butt.

Caleb, spinning (fast!) on the tire swing.  He was hilarious.

I love this picture of Kendall.

Kendall and Caleb.

bliss, with a better flavor.

It took me a long time to actually become addicted to Starbuck’s.  I occasionally would buy a Frappuccino from the machines at the library to keep myself awake enough to get studying done.  Honestly, I always thought that people who frequented Starbuck’s shops were slightly pretentious, and I didn’t want to be in any way associated with them.  

Recently, though, I heard about a Frap that I wanted to try.  Strawberries and Cream with a shot of toffee nut.  And now I know why people love Starbuck’s.  If you find the right flavor for you, it’s like having heaven in your mouth.

I’ve been there 3 times this week, and I can’t get enough!  Yesterday, I even drank half of my Frap, then froze the rest of it and ate it later with a spoon.  

This could definitely become a problem.

joy.

I thought I couldn’t possibly allow myself to love any more people than I already do, but on June 19, I proved myself wrong. This little guy, Dayton Riley O., was born to Lindsay (my niece) and Todd. 6lb 12oz and 21 inches long.

He is perfect. He doesn’t fuss that much (yet), and he smiles and smirks in his sleep.

Do I have baby fever? Absolutely.

big bad carrie?

I’m not a mean person. I think that anyone who reads this blog probably knows that. If anything, I am too sensitive and emotional. But mean is just not an adjective that people regularly use for me.

Last night, though, may have changed that in some people’s minds, and honestly I don’t care. There are certain things that I am very stubborn about, and one of them is being carried up and down stairs. I don’t like it. It’s no secret. A few stairs is doable, 50 stairs. 50 stairs? No. HELL no. I don’t care if I only weigh 105 and can be carried easily or whatever.

I went to Nicol and Bobby’s wedding reception, knowing that I’d only be staying for a few minutes because the party was on the third floor of the venue. I just wanted to stop in, say hi and congratulations, and leave. I have known these people–and most of the guests–since early childhood, but still, I wouldn’t consider them my closest group of friends. In fact, I probably get along with them the least because I have known them for so long. I know all the things that annoy me about them.

Well, anyway, around 15-20 guys were all trying to convince me to get carried up these 2 flights of carpeted stairs. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, and the more they asked, the madder I became. Finally, I had to get snappy and tell them that they were pissing me off. I used more choice words and definitely a mean tone, but I got the point across. I just don’t like being asked again and again the same thing because somehow they are convinced I’ll change my mind. No, it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to be stranded on the third floor of this bar while everyone who carried me up was getting too drunk to carry me back down. I’m paralyzed, not dumb. Plus, stairs just scare me–obviously a part of my control issue.

Finally, Darcy came down and rescued me from the morons. I know the guys all think I was being a bitch, and it doesn’t matter to me what they think. They aren’t in my position.

I don’t like not being listened to. I know they were just trying to convince me to come up and have a good time too, but when I said no after about the 20th time, you would think they could catch the drift that I wasn’t budging on the issue.

Also, I’ve been in the process, I’ve realized, where I notice my friends I thought were so great really aren’t so great after all. I could give you a list of people I now see full of selfishness, but the list of people who don’t have that is much shorter. It’s a little sad to see people I once cared about show their true colors and lose my respect.

I think I am retreating again, into my hermit stage, and just going to stay home on my weekends or hang out with Maria, the one person who i have learned I can truly count on for everything. And at least she knows I’m not mean.

:)

Pit of happiness.

Gage Park, Rose Garden, June 12, 2009

Those moments in the day
when everything slows down
and the sunshine can settle
on the freckles in my cheeks,
normally hidden.
When the troubles dull themselves
and, really, nothing is important.

Those moments are my favorite.
They are the ones when I feel most alive.

no rhyming required.

There are only a handful of people that I can say have influenced me as a writer, many of them accomplished writers themselves, most of them I’ve never met or known beside the words in their books. But one person I can credit with boosting my creative writing confidence would be Amy Fleury. As my first college creative writing professor, and shortly after, my poetry professor, I gained so much knowledge and direction from her. I pulled her book, Beautiful Trouble, from my shelf today and knew right away that her words would again give me something to be inspired with.

I love that feeling. Sometimes I wonder how people go through life without it. Or if maybe they have it by doing something else. Maybe everyone has their thing, their outlet.

Mine just goes on paper.

stench!

I love my brothers dearly. And their fishing habit too.

But their shad? No. Way.

Anyone who has not smelled shad during their time on this Earth is a lucky sonuvabitch. I’m outside right now, trying to soak up some rays (and color!) before tonight, but the wind keeps carrying me the awful smell from the bucket sitting near the garage.

I am rethinking this fishing trip to Tim’s pond now. If the bait all smells like that, I can do without!

itch.

I really have no idea what it is about this time of year, but there’s something in the air that just makes everyone so aggravating to me. No kidding. I’m at that point where staying home, staying away from a majority of the people that I know is sounding like the best plan. Summer makes people stupid, especially in how they act and what they say. I love summer, except for that.

Colorado couldn’t come soon enough.