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| Feeling Poetic |
| 07.28.05 (12:49 pm) [edit] |
Yet out of breath. The words are barely under the surface looking up at the blue sky. Like the lottery tickets that you scratch hoping to match the right ones. I feel inspired yet uninspired by so many things. I am full of sadness and melancholy but of the good kind (if there is such a thing). I’ve decided that my cousin is a fairy. I want to wisk her away and put her in a forest full of green tree’s and moss. I want to build her a house like the one in Peter Pan (the one with Robin Williams).
Oddly enough running into my cousins (three girls) after almost sixteen years has been like a breath of fresh air. We used to spend summers frolicking in the summer heat. We used to take trips to Disneyland in their van. We used to play board games like Monopoly and Life. We used to watch the summer Olympics and scary movies. We’d eat bitter grapes from their vines in the backyard and skim through MAD Comic books while their doggie ran around us in circles. They were magic to me when I was younger. They were a month of no arguing and sleeping in late and never having to make our beds.
It feels strange now that we are all grown up but when I see them I just want to hug them and giggle and tell wacky stories. I want to fill in the spaces and know their experiences and share mine. I do not feel dumb or awkward like I would imagine most do after such a long time apart. We didn’t talk to each other unless we were spending the summer together. Yet being around them now makes me feel good.
Last night I was preparing for my trip to San Diego. I want to go and spend the weekend in the sun watching the glistening bodies stroll by. I am going to visit Kev (my sanity keeper). That’s who I call. That is who I go visit. That is who always makes me feel better when I feel like shit is just no good. I’m looking forward to it.
Tomorrow is also the company picnic. I hope there will be stories to tell. Tonight is my brother’s play. I am going with Hotpants and meeting my brother and sister later. There is so much going on. I’m hoping this will pass. I think it’s just PMS bogging me down.
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| MySpace |
| 07.25.05 (11:26 am) [edit] |
Oh that’s correct kids. I am addicted. I’m not even sure who showed me the site or why but right now I wish they hadn’t. Now I am a part of the millions that leave silly comments on pages. I check it every hour or so. I search through the many, many links just to see into other people’s lives. I guess I am bored with mine. I look at the pictures. I look at their blogs. I am a voyeur of lives and I hate it! Yet, I cannot help it. I want to read it all.
I wonder how many people just add each other for the popularity contest. John has 20 friends but I want 300. Add, Add, Add.
I love the ones that are just there to NETWORK and yet they insist on putting up rather revealing pictures. What the hell do they expect??? Oh they want to work your net all right.
Ahhh all the boys that love to squint into the camera and tilt their head back to give you “The look” so you can comment on how “hot” he is. They all look like Ashton Kutcher!
Ohhhh the ladies that love to hate on the other girls cause SOMEONE can’t get over themselves. We get it you think you are hotter than hot and she isn’t. Feel better now.
Ahhhh the children that are never going to learn how to spell properly because everyone uses Ebonics and if you actually spell something right they don’t understand. (I thought my generation was screwed.)
MySpace is my stomping ground and I find myself getting sucked in deeper and deeper. I keep checking to see if I’ll recognize anyone. I don’t know why I even do it.
I’m not there to NETWORK and I don’t care if you’re hot (though I would be lying if I said didn’t click on the pictures).
I just click and click and click some more.
Someone help me.
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| The Things you Learn Along the Way |
| 07.21.05 (2:33 pm) [edit] |
Life has this weird way of allowing you to feel like the King/Queen of your moments. For a minute the lightness of being is bright and solid. You see things clearly. You run towards it at a constant pace afraid that one day it will go away again. You are strong in your choices, You are certain of your future. Then when it feels like you are forgetting your place it slaps you down. Hard. It says, “You will never be as great as me.”
J and I got into a serious accident yesterday on the way home from work. We were both in good moods. I was on the phone, he was listening to the radio. We were at a stoplight. I was talking to my brother about life. He is going through a very low point in his and I was trying to give him the right words. Something solid to hold on too. Maybe I forgot my place because all you we heard were the screeches of the tires then the sound of metal on metal. I dropped my phone and watched as the front of his car slammed into Cherokee in front of us. The hood bent and rose like a mountain coming out from under the ground.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask.
My seat belt came flying off and I look at J. He is grabbing the back of his head. I am looking around unable to really grasp what just happened.
“Get out the car,” I say quickly.
We open the doors and make sure all the passengers were ok. The smell of rubber and radiator fluid filled the air. I don’t remember walking across the street. I just remember being there watching it unfold. J’s car was completely smashed in between both cars. The guy who hit us was trying to push his Cadillac back with his hands.
“What’s he doing?” I said to myself.
He was pissed. He was telling them to move their cars forward so that we could get out of traffic and pull over to the side. I ran back across the street towards the Cherokee.
“Hey don’t move anything,” I tell her.
She looks at me and turns her car off. He gets irate and starts mumbling to himself.
“Call the cops J,” I said.
“I am,” he says still holding his head.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“I don’t know right now,” he says.
The guy reaches into his car to get something out of the glove compartment. He shuts his door and starts walking away to the sidewalk. J yells something but I am all ready crossing the street following a half a block behind. He was walking on the sidewalk trying to flag cars down. No one stopped. I was walking on the opposite side of the sidewalk near the cars so he couldn’t see me. I knew that I shouldn’t have been following him. I knew that I should have just gone back and waited for the cops to come but my heart was racing. My common sense was left behind in the rubble. The thought that this guy could have killed me based on his lack of attention and stupidity put me in a different state of mind. I followed from a distance and I followed carefully that was all that mattered.
Eventually I called the police. It took me approximately eight minutes to get through to someone. I repeated my story three times to three different people. Finally they told me to stop following him and that I needed to go back to the crime scene. I told them the location of where I last spotted him. It was in their hands now and I had to be ok with that. I will not deny that I wanted to keep following but he was headed into a seedier part of the neighborhood. My common sense found its way home.
They found him eventually. We had to drive by and identify the guy. He had changed his clothes and even his hat but it was him. I wanted them to search inside to see if the clothes I had seen him in were there but if you watch CSI you know you need a warrant.
The cops were trying to be light about it all. Saying “we’ll get him”, “we have an idea of who it was”, “this guy is a scum bag”. The whole while I was thinking “If they had just sent the trooper my way in the first place there would be no doubt.” While I was riding in the FRONT seat of the trooper car I had a moments panic.
What if it isn’t him?
What if I can’t make a positive ID?
When he turned and I saw his face my doubt disappeared. I knew it was him. The same facial hair. The same ratty pony tail. A relief washed over me. I laid my head against the side bar of the window and watched as the streets zoomed past us on the way back to the scene. He was talking code into the radio. I pretended not to care but I wondered if the others had felt that sure about his face.
I sat here all day today thinking about all the what if’s:
What if we had been in a smaller car?
What if they hadn’t caught him?
What if the car in front of us hadn’t been far enough?
What if there were fumes that had escaped?
What if the car behind us had been an SUV?
I suppose it doesn’t matter now and I know there have been a lot of people in a lot of accidents. A lot of people that were less fortunate. A lot of people that only had a scratch on their car. A lot of people that barely missed.
There are so many things that throw you for a loop in life. There are so many things to think about. There are so many “what if’s”.
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| In the Mission |
| 07.20.05 (2:25 pm) [edit] |
J and I got off the Bart on the corner of 16th and Valencia. It was over cast in the city and cold in comparison to our Berkeley summer breeze and sunny days. The point of being out there was to meet Smababy (from You Know How You Do) for her birthday get together. We were to meet at a seedy bar in the Mission District. There are Mexican markets and Mexican restaurants and Mexican crack heads. There are liquor stores on every corner at both ends of every block and when you walk in they watch you like hawks in case you decide to grab a bag of chips and run. The bums on the corner are whistling through the teeth they have left at the hookers in their tight red mini skirts and burgundy heels. It smelled like pee and rotted vegetables but it is the Mission and maybe I was just not smelling the right things.
We locate the appointed bar. Its sandy brown walls reminded me of Mexican adobe homes. The bar had the basics and that was it. So if you wanted something that the nightclubs make you weren’t going to get it here (which we learned later on that night). J and I sat down and ordered Mojitos (very good Mojitos). We sat and talked about things. Laughing at memories. Creating new ones. My cousins joined us soon after the lights were dimmed and the DJ started spinning Funk sounds with no lyrics. In between conversation I realized that I missed the seediness of certain places. I watched as the ladies across from us drank glass after glass of red wine. Business woman in their business work clothes having after business hour drinks. I watched the reflection of the candle dance off their glasses. I smiled realizing that I didn’t miss the drinking as much as missed the reason we crowd around the glasses in seedy bars drinking expensive shitty drinks.
Soon Cruzando and Izzy (the father of my unborn children) showed up followed by Smababy and her birthday clan. We all sat around while Super Fly played on the screen above our table. We bought Sma birthday drinks and downed some of our own. There was conversation and laughs and dirty camera phone pictures that J wouldn’t share with the rest of the table. My cousins were giggly and sweet as they drank their rum and cokes down. They lent me some money because my ATM card was inactive and we had tried different pin numbers so it no longer accepted it when I actually remembered what the right one was. Eventually both parties parted ways and we headed to the gay bar on the corner. If my cousins hadn’t wanted to go I would have jumped on the BART and brought my half buzzed ass home skipping the gay scene.
Someone had to have some cojones to put a gay bar in the Mission. We walked down hand in hand and stopped outside. The bar looked run down and dangerous on the outside. (I’m supposing most old bars do). After four drinks for whatever reason it just seemed more menacing. Earlier in the evening we had walked by and contemplated going in with J for a pre-drink but changed our mind when a rough looking Mexican stumbled his way out.
We walked in to find a really cozy place with a jukebox for the day crowd and a lit up stage for the Queens of the night. The complete opposite of what I had expected.We pulled up a table and watched the show as three classy looking ladies performed selected songs in Spanish and some here and there in English. We drank and laughed and talked some more over rums and coke. The girls sat on one end the boys on the other. I will state again that I miss the female species. It wasn’t because they were my cousins. It was because most of the people I know are gay men. We stayed much longer than intended but we also danced till the early hours of the morning.
This morning rising out of my bed was not easy. I was supposed to get up at 7am and go find a place for our company picnic but slept in for an extra hour instead. It wasn’t a bad hangover though I did feel the affects of the liquor and not enough sleep. It was fun. I want to do it more. I think I am going to become greedy with this need to be out. I feel it and I think I like it.
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| The Kiddie Pool |
| 07.18.05 (1:00 pm) [edit] |
That’s right kids. I went out and bought a kiddie pool to put in our yard for the summer time heat. We bought the pump, the pool and yes even the pool cover. We got up yesterday morning in anticipation for our Pool Party BBQ. I made several reminder phone calls that said: YES THERE WILL BE A POOL SO BRING YOUR SWIMMING GEAR CAUSE EVERYONE WILL BE PARTICIPATING.
We set out to clean the yard up and rearrange things so that everyone would be sitting outside versus the usual sit inside while I cook outside (which I totally was against this time). I wanted to be a part of the mingling and the socializing so we set it up just that way. Jose and I went to Toys R Us to try to find just the right pool. Most thought we were going to buy the little plastic turtle one. We did not. We bought the 12 x 6 foot one that inflates and holds “One adult and four kids” according to Cruz (this theory was based only on the picture of the box).
The sun was blazing and soon the grill was fired up and ready to go. For the record I really need to invest in some BBQ utensils. The grill was a big Weber the only problem was that the bottom latch (where the holes need to be covered so the briquettes won’t burn so fast) was broken. I not only had to make sure the meat was turned over rather quickly but burned the tip of my fingers and some of my arm hair because we didn’t have anything long enough to turn the food with. I used a regular old kitchen fork. My poor arms are singed.
Our usual company showed up early and we put the beers to chill and broke out the cards to play on the table. It was a slow start but once it was on it was on. We played cards and drank beer and laughed and soaked in the sun. I was rather surprised when Cruz actually came out in shorts with long socks looking like a Mexican. It was a long full day of good company and good food (if I do say so myself).
I got a bad sunburn but it was worth it. I got drunk really, really fast because of the cleansing that I did and the special rice krispi that was provided. I think I was trying to convince everyone that I was straight. I do not think it worked. I also did some aerobics with one of the girls and my ass is sore today. It was hard keeping balanced and eventually I sat down. I attempted to play black jack but forgot how to add. I swear I won ever hand cause they always added up to twenty one. That was just the kind of day it was. I also saw the greatest impersonation of Mrs. Swan from MAD Tv. I don’t remember when I had laughed that hard. K you are the best!
I had so much fun. It felt good to have everyone around. The pictures are going to be amusing I’m sure. I’m going to look like a half burned stay-puff marshmallow man or woman in this case. I wore white wife beaters and white basketball shorts and since I am nice and round they will make for good laughs. I actually can’t wait to see them.
The kitchen is a mess. There are piles of dishes in the sink. Lots of empty beer bottles. My grilled corn which no one ate is in the oven. There are three Modelo’s left in my fridge which I am considering drinking tonight as I clean the mess up.
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| I am missing out on my life |
| 07.15.05 (2:22 pm) [edit] |
I was sucked in. I have been trying to make up for the mistakes I’ve made with the Dui’s for two years now. Really staying home and out of the scene. Staying home and not going out. Staying home and feeling sorry for myself. I was sucked into believing that because I was drinking I was wrong and that was the cause of it all. Then I realized today of all days in my very sick and heavy headed state of mind (cause I still have a very bad cold) that I can’t take it back. What’s done is done and the only one that’s really paying attention anymore is me.
Some times when the roommates come home from the club and the next morning they say “I shouldn’t have driven”. I can’t say anything. I am bound by the “You fucked up all ready can’t preach something you can’t practice” rule. Then I think. What the fuck. In the last two years the little social status I had built with Cruzando has faded into the distance.
**poof
Then I think I am 28 waiting around for someone to forgive me and the only one that can do that is me. Then I think well damn it I accepted my mistake a long time ago. I am no better and no worse than half the people out there my age. My punishment is the constant battering I give myself about how un-perfect I am. The constant “eat better” “don’t drink so much” “go to the gym” ….here’s a thought. Fuck it.
I will never be the J Lo of my world. Then I realize that I never cared about that shit before and when did I become obsessive about it anyway.
No, I have always been the single goofy ass girl with the smile.
Someone said something that caught my attention last week at the bar
My Macho Man Mexican was telling another customer how cute I was (which happens often at the gay bars) to which the costumer answers:
“I’m sure she has no issues with the ladies with that smile and those eyes.”
To which I answer, “Will you marry me?”
So I take this theory to another gay boy. He tells me “It’s the way you carry yourself. Like you have it all in place.”
Gotta love the gay boys. Both were not my roommates for the record. They were just boys from the bar. So today I was sitting here thinking about how drinking was not the problem. The problem was me. The problem is being comfortable in my own skin. The problem is being free enough to just be.
I haven’t had a drink since Monday not because I felt I needed to stop. I just wanted to see if it was that serious and it wasn’t. I didn’t sweat. I wasn’t moody. I didn’t drink Listerine or cold medicine. Today was the first day it crossed my mind that I wanted a beer. I won’t have it of course.
I’m over so many things. I was caught up in something that I safely made it out of. I’m going to live my life. My way.
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| Honey makes everything taste better |
| 07.13.05 (8:59 am) [edit] |
I have to put honey in the crappy tea that I am having to drink all day today. When I was younger I LOVED tea. I loved its soft smells and the warm taste as it warmed my body on the way down. As I got older I totally lost taste for it. I’m not sure when or how it happened but now that I am sick (I blame it on the cleansing) I am drinking more of it to try to avoid being laid out with a summer cold.
It is my third day of trying to rid the toxins of my body. This has nothing to do with losing weight it’s just my flushing out the binging that I have been doing with the junk food and the alcohol. It’s funny how your body reacts to healthy foods and liquids. I’m not sure exactly how to pin point what it’s doing to me right now cause I feel like crap. My head is light, my nose is leaking like a faucet, my body feels like jello (even more so than usual cause I feel giggly anyway) and my throat feels like I swallowed a porcupine.
I don’t know how many of you get sick during the summer. I think it’s the change of air and the shift of winds and the way the stars start to align because it never fails that I get a little loopy during the summer months. Something is always wrong and no I don’t have paranoia about being sick it’s just that when I’m trying to get healthy my body rejects it. I bet if I went home and drank a shot of some hot whiskey and took a hot bath I would be out cold by 7pm and wake up tomorrow morning feeling like a champ but I MUST have discipline.
I am worn out by 10pm every night. I feel old people. I need some hot young thang to come take all this away.
I’d pour some honey on the hot thang too cause honey makes everything taste better.
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| It was her eyes |
| 07.11.05 (7:26 pm) [edit] |
I’ve decided that after thirteen years of knowing her it had to have been her eyes that I loved the most and the way she would run her hands through me hair. I met her through Cruzando. He was in love with her at the time and slowly I think I fell for her as well (though I didn’t realize it till many, many years later). I went to her baby shower on Saturday. I hadn’t seen her parents in years. I wasn’t going to go and that morning when I got up I called her to tell her that something had come up.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
There was silence on the other end, “That’s fine.”
“J come on it’s not like no one else is going to go,” I said back.
“Well everyone else isn’t you. You weren’t here for the first one either but I understand,” she said sharply.
We hung up the phone and I thought about the twins. They turn six years old in October. She had married her high school sweetheart (my then arch enemy). We had joined the service together. I had followed her into that office with no hesitation in my bones. We both wanted to get away. We signed the papers. We went home and told our families. I then told Her and I’ll never forget her words.
“You better be leaving with the way I feel right now,” she said.
“I’m not playing baby,” I said. (This story may never be written)
We got on the plane and left the people we loved behind. I don’t remember if at the time I did because the thought of losing her was too much or because I really wanted to get away from my family. It was probably a combination of both. After three months of training we came home for two weeks and she got pregnant. She didn’t tell me until two months or so into her pregnancy. Two months since we’d been home and one week before we graduated our military school. One week before we decided together where our next duty station would be. We had joined on a buddy program so the first four years were guaranteed together.
“C I have to tell you something,” she said.
We were sitting at a picnic table outside of our class. We were on a fifteen minute break. The winter months had just passed and spring was starting to peak its little head out from behind the clouds. I remember sitting there and basking in the warmth of the sun. I remember thinking about the summer that was headed our way.
“You have a crush on Oscar?” I asked laughing.
She laughed, “His name isn’t Oscar.”
“Yeah I know but he looks like Oscar de La Hoya so that’s what I call him,” I said.
There was a small pause then she pulled out a bottle of pills from her trouser pockets. The bottle read Prenatal Vitamins. I picked them up and read the name of the prescription “Jane Doe” (it’s not her name but you get the point). I set them back down and knew she wasn’t going to really say it. It wasn’t her way. Just like she never said she loved you but she’d do certain things so that you would know. On most of my birthday cards from her they say “Happy Birthday!” and that was it. It was so funny then because I’d always know.
“How long?” I asked.
“I’m going home to get married and then I’m staying in the west coast,” she said quietly.
I remember getting teary eyed and just staring at the bottle before finally wishing her luck and going back inside. I remember being mad. I later asked her if she did it on purpose to which she never gave an answer. I suppose it doesn’t matter now because she’s still happily married and on her way to a third child.
Seeing her on Saturday reminded me of so many things. I was genuinely happy for her. She was glowing and beautiful as always. Most of her family remembered me and I was greeted with hugs and kisses from most of them. The usual questions of how are you, how are your parents, has you sister finished school yet accompanied the hello’s. I was over whelmed at first and when I would look to her for help she would just sit there and smile with her hands on her belly and the sun lighting up her eyes and I would feel a calm. I was hospitable and helped her mom in the kitchen.
“You know she was really upset that you weren’t coming,” she told me as we put some coffee on.
We watched her through the kitchen window. She was eating fruit from a little plate in front of her. She looked around and caught us watching her. She waved her mango filled fork at us and then went back to eating.
“She looks so happy,” I said.
“She is but don’t think that she doesn’t miss you,” her mom answered.
“I know I’ve missed her too. I’m just glad we kept in touch,” I told her.
“So am I,” she said and gave my shoulder a squeeze.
J had come back into the kitchen as her mom walked out with the coffee.
“What are you two talking about?” she asked slyly.
“Nothing, you look good J. I’m really excited for you,” I said.
“Come on lets go back outside,” she said.
We went and sat at the table with some of the girls we used to go to high school with. I watched her for a minute. Then she met my eyes and held them. We were in love at some point in our lives I knew that then because seeing her after all this time hasn’t changed much. We’ve always had our own language our own way of understanding each other. She gave my hand a quick squeeze and I gave her a quick peck on the cheek. I left the party right before sun down. I called her later to say thank you and to check on her since I knew she had been up since the crack of dawn in preparation for the shower.
“You doing ok?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m tired but it was a good day,” she said.
“Well make sure to soak your big feet because they are gonna hurt tomorrow,” I said sarcastically.
“Forget you. My feet aren’t big,” I could here the smile in her voice.
“Well lady have a good night and get some rest ok? I’ll call you soon,” I said.
“C I’m glad you came,” she said.
“Yeah I know every one but you told me at the party,” I said laughing.
“You know me” she said.
“Yeah I think it still do,” I answered.
“Good I’m glad. Have a good night,” she said.
“You too” I said.
Click.
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| I'm 28 |
| 07.08.05 (4:21 pm) [edit] |
Today as I called one of my best friends to say "Happy Birthday girl" I thought of our high school days. She wanted to know if I was going to her baby shower tomorrow.
"Of course I'll be there. I can't believe you are about to have another one," I said.
"Me either," she said laughing.
"I'm kind of nervous it's going to be a highschool reunion," I said.
"The only one you have to worry about is my mother," she said slyly.
"Why?" I asked.
"She's going to want to know why you aren't married yet," she said.
"Of course," I said back. "Damn it now I am really nervous."
"I'll see you tomorrow!" she said giggling.
I hung up the phone and sat at my desk. I thought back to highschool. I thought back far enough to realize that I never had any plans to raise a family or get married. I never planned to own a home or any of those girly girl dreams most have.
I was a dreamer don't misunderstand because writer's have a romantic sense of things. I imagined (in highschool) always being the one wandering into different towns, meeting different people. I imagined them wanting to know me and I would break their hearts and move on to another town and they would wonder "Who was that?"
Now at twenty-eight I can't say I have many regrets. I believe that my life unfolded and continues to unfold the way it's meant too. I've always given in to fate. I've always believe that there is a reason that things happen the way they do.
For my birthday this year I spent most of it crying. I woke up depressed and feeling more alone and empty than ever before. I watched silently as my mom hid in her closet to drink her beer and then pretend that no one would notice. I begged her that morning to not drink so that we could spend some time together and go eat. She put the beer to her mouth instead. I was sad for her.
I watched as my dad sat in his leather chair with his head in his hands and try not to cry over his fathers death. He wanted to pretend to be strong for me. He wanted to celebrate my day but not without the emptiness that lingered inside him haunting his every move. I picked out his clothes and told him to go clean up that mom wasn't going to come eat anyway so we could go whenever.
The woman who haunts me knew what had happened and instead of calling me she left me standing with only her memory. I wanted to call her and tell her that whatever we had was officially dead inside. I just wanted her to care for a little while. Just for a little bit. Long enough for me to remember why it was that I loved her so in the first place.
When the day ended and everyone was asleep I walked into my mom's room and sat on the edge of her bed. I whispered that I loved her and then walked into my father's room and did the same. I slept alone on that couch staring up at the ceiling. I wondered why the hell I was put on this earth in the first place. I cried myself to sleep because I didn't know the answer.
I still don't have the answer but I am no longer crying. I am twenty eight and that's not even close to old. I am still capable of living and learning and loving and most importantly letting go of the things I can not change.
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| 4th of July |
| 07.06.05 (1:59 pm) [edit] |
I have a confession. I have been drinking heavily everyday since my grandfather has passed away. It’s been a really difficult time for me. My body is feeling it. My mind is feeling it. My common sense and everything I had tried to really put behind me have come to head. It’s still very lonely but I don’t want anyone around, though seeing the girls at the bar on Friday made me realize how much I had missed them. The only one that I can tolerate right now is J because he just lets me be. If I want to laugh he lets me laugh, if I fall into my silences he lets me be silent, if I don’t react to his jokes he doesn’t huff and puff, if I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything he doesn’t lecture me or try to make me get off the couch.
Monday we ventured to Santa Cruz to see the fireworks. I needed a break and a good friend offered to drive. I had my sister, cousin and one of their friends come with me. They didn’t want to go into the crowded city to see the firecrackers only to be stuck in traffic for hours after.
The day started off a little rough. I had a hangover from hell and the girls were taking forever to get ready so we could jump on the BART to get to my friends place. Eventually we got our shit together and off we went. We spent the day out in the sun among the crowds of people that walked up and down the beach boardwalk. We decided to purchase some tickets to get on some of the rides.
Let me explain that I had not been on an amusement ride since before I left for the service 7 years ago (my god how time flies). Let me also explain that the first ride they chose was a machine that took you 120 feet in the air only to drop you and then lift you back up at a very, very fast pace.
“I’m not riding that thing,” I said.
“What come on?” my sister says.
“Hell no,” I said laughing. “Do you hear those people screaming?”
I watched as two younger girls got on the ride (they couldn’t have been more than 8 years old). They were laughing with each other and saying how they weren’t scared.
“You are going to let your sister actually out do you?” P asks.
I could hear the little engine start to rev up. It sounded like a rocket ship was about to take off. I was watching the little girls. One had her hands gripping the bars and the other one was looking around and waving her little legs back and forth when BOOOOOM it takes off and all I caught were their little heads bobbing forward and then up. I couldn’t stop laughing. My sister had a fit of the giggles and when they finally came down one looked pale and the other one kept asking if she was all right.
“Ok,” I said. “Let’s go.”
I know I’m getting old because as I sat in the chair and the bar fell over my lap I wanted to get off. I kept thinking I had nothing to prove but it was too late and before I knew it I am screaming at the top of my lungs for it to stop. I swore my heart stopped on the way up and on the way down I thought I was going to lose the Burger King that we had eaten for lunch. Yet the exhilaration that I felt shortly after the initial scare is not explainable. I was laughing so hard that it didn’t matter how fast we were going. It was perfect. I had forgotten what that felt like.
It set the mood for the rest of the day. We ate sundaes, nachos, churros, pizza, chili cheese fries, and drank cold sodas on the beach. We sat out in the sun in the middle of the crowd and just enjoyed each others company talking about nothing important. I rolled my pants up because I didn’t bring any shorts and tested the water finding it a bit too cold to get in. Eventually they asked me for beer and so it set the pace for the rest of the day. P and I chatted while they frolicked in the sun. Eventually the beers caught up with them and it was a happy moment in my mind.
As the sun went down they decided they wanted to dig a hole in the sand to warm them up. This turned into almost two hours of laughing, giggling and me being absolutely amused by their youth. They wound up having a sand fight and jumping into the ocean cause they had to go to tinkle really bad but didn’t want to walk all the way to the bathrooms.
“I can’t believe you jumped into the ocean,” I told my sister.
“Well I wasn’t going too but H made me laugh and I couldn’t stop laughing and I started to pee and I couldn’t stop it so I jumped in the water,” she laughed and threw a water bottle at our cousin H.
The sun set over a good day. I watched as the sun kissed the edge of the water goodnight. I stood by the waters edge and realized how much I missed the sound of the ocean. It’s slow crash. It’s steady pace. P and I went to go get blankets to sit and watch the fireworks for the evening while the girls cleaned up and changed into their regular clothes. When we got back we cleaned the sand off the one that we had been laying on. P and I shared one blanket while H settled into my lap after wrapping a blanket around her. My sister and their friend lay on H with another blanket and soon we were all bundled up and warm watching the firecrackers light up the sky.
The last two days have been light for me. I’m slowly coming out of my darkness. Slowly.
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