Shining Star

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I know who you are

at least, what is shown.

You are the shining star

who let her stand alone.

You do not know me,

though you think you do.

You know what you can see –

Want to see what I think of you?

You took the role of teacher

you felt it needed to be done.

But we don’t need a preacher

looking after everyone.

It appears your roots cause shame

by your condescending nod

toward your family name.

You distance yourself from the odd.

When you look in the mirror

surely, you can see traces of her.

But when she reached to be nearer

you extended a lecture.

I realize this is just you

and you’re not at all bad.

There are just some things you do

that make me a little sad.

Birthday Road Trip 2012: Yellowstone or Bust!

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As you read these very words, I am almost three hundred miles away from home.  It’s the first weekend of August which means it’s time for my annual Birthday Road Trip.  This tradition started based on my self-made theory that a birthday can’t find you if you’re not at home.  So, I’ve been 29 for ten years.  On a side note, by the 6th 29th, however, I didn’t feel very twentyish. 

Since I went to New York for a weekend in June, my pocket book demanded a low key road trip this year.  Yellowstone National Park it is.  FYI, Yellowstone is in Wyoming – not Montana.  Montana has successfully marketed their sliver of the park as West Yellowstone.  Check out a map though.  You’ll be surprised how little of the park is in Montana versus Wyoming.  Yes, I might have a small issue with the whole West Yellowstone claim to fame.  I’ll let it go for now, though.

This year the trip is just going to be Bubba and me.  That’s okay.  She is on this whole kick of being an adult now and insists on moving to Utah at the end of the month.  Something about being closer to a certain boy.  Blah, blah, blah. This trip could be our very last road trip together.  Why is everyone moving to Utah?  And no, I’m not convinced to move back.  I’ll just make new friends and miss my old ones.

But for this weekend, we will enjoy Wyoming.  First, we will stop at stinky Thermopolis and swim in the hot springs.  Then we will make our way to Cody and probably sleep pretty well after our swim stop.  Saturday we will spend the whole day in the park.  No hurry.  No agenda.  Just take our sweet time.  We’ll come home on Sunday.

map courtesy mapquest.com

Sounds like a pretty good birthday to me.

My Goodbye Soapbox. Feel free to disagree.

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Goodbyes should be hard.  They should get stuck in the throat, weigh heavy on the heart and kick you in the gut.  An easy goodbye is a mark of wasted time.  Farewells that roll off the tongue without causing pause and reflection means something wasn’t done right.  The moment wasn’t seized.  Life wasn’t lived. 

A parting should threaten one’s peace. It should cause at minimum, a moment of agonizing doubt.  “Should I leave?  Is this right?”  There should be at least one person being left behind that makes the leaver wonder, “How will I ever exist without this person in my life?” True, some circumstances are better viewed in a rear view mirror but not people.  Maybe some people are better as memories.  But not every person.    

Promises to “always remember” and “never forget” should be made with the best intention to fulfill.  Of course, time takes care of such promises.  The intensity of the moment lessens.  Memories are idealized.  Until one day in the future, those people that made such an indelible impression are the same ones whose names are on the tip of the tongue but the mind can’t quite recall. 

Our connection with other people is one of the determiners of our happiness.  Harmony with every person is a bit too much to hope for.  But there needs to be at least one person in every situation that makes the goodbye difficult.  That is the sign of a well lived life.

SWF Seeks Employment at a Nonexistent Company

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I want a new job.  A magical new job would work best for me.  No, I don’t expect to perform HarryPotter Houdini’s all day.  That would be a silly.  However, I do have a list of demands I’d like met.

Requirements that must be met at my next employment:

  1. I’d like to travel.  Send me anywhere, anytime.  I am ready and willing.  My dream job is to be a truck driver.  There are only a couple of small details prohibiting me from fulfilling my fantasy.  One is driving.  The second is the truck.  Okay, maybe it’s just one combined problem – driving a big ol’ truck.  I have to admit, when I see the rigs pulled over and I know the driver is all snug inside sleeping for twelve hours, I’m a little jealous. 
  2. I’d like to set my own hours.  This 8:00am stuff really doesn’t work for me.  However, I don’t like staying after 5:00pm.  So maybe, I should just work from home.  Then I could work during my, as of now, undiscovered peak times of productivity. 
  3. No accountability.  Just trust me, the work will get done.  Eventually.
  4. Overlook the whole lack of education thing.  If you really want me to receive an education, pick up the tab.  I’m not too proud to let you do that.
  5. Pay me a whole lot of money.  I’m talking, a butt load of money.  There are so many toys I want to by myself.  Car, house, truck, new computer, etc.
  6. Understand that I get bored easily.  So, 8 hours of data entry does not really jive with me.  I need lots of tasks or I will get on Facebook.
  7. Don’t get mad when I’m on Facebook.
  8. Let me use my undiscovered niche. 
  9. Let me have a window in my office.  The day feels twice as long when there is no window.
  10. An August through June work schedule sounds lovely.  July is too hot to work.

Is this too much to ask?  If I sound like I could make a valuable contribution to your company please hit like.

17,532

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Forty-eight years.  According to www.convertunits.com that’s 17,532 days.

In my opinion, July 25, 1964 officially kicked off one of the greatest love stories ever lived. True, it technically started months earlier when they met, but this is the date marked to celebrate and it encompasses their whole story.  For me, it’s actually the most important love story because it’s when Marilyn Teters married Richard (Dick) Lee.  Many years later (let’s not get into the exact number), I was born.

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