What a wonderful month I have had. Consider yourself warned, I have a great deal to say this time.
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It snowed right before Christmas, my first snow ever. I gave my mother a painting, and I also sold two other pieces. Its nice to be getting some real work done again.
Zepp and MurderIsIn both joined me in Houston for a week. We went to see the Body Worlds exhibit at the Houston Museum of Natural Science.
I had my first taste of Ethiopian food and we enjoyed drunken bowling. Truly some of the best friends I have, I can't wait to move east and enjoy more debauchery with them. For New Years Eve we made the mistake of going to a poorly planned warehouse rave.
We eventually made up for it by joining KindaSean's NYE party for the ball to drop. Twelve jello shots later I was enjoying Smith on the balcony. What a fun way to celebrate the holiday. If you ever get the chance to meet Brett (aka MurderIsIn), I suggest making fart jokes until you get him laughing. I light up like a three year-old who found candy with every giggle.
After they left I had a few days to myself which were spent in bed with a fever, the flu, and loads of Kleenex. Regardless of my physical condition, I spent the time working through some problems I was having mentally. By the time I began to feel better it was Wednesday and time to fly to Austin in preparation for my cousin's wedding. That Friday, after enduring 5 hours in the car with my grandmother and her I found myself in the time warped town of Wichita Falls, Texas. I found myself once again surrounded by 200 of the closest members of my family.
The wedding was nice, the bride beautiful, the Leb food delicious. I must say that the highlight, as always, was at the reception when they got the Lebanese drum circle going, with 10 of my uncles playing their Debeke drums. All of the Phoneticians joined hands and began circling the room, kicking their feet up, shouting, and double stepping to the right dancing the Debka. The culture has always been my favorite part of being in this family.
While in this small town I was given the first chance that I've had in a decade to do something I've needed for 17 years. My father died from cancer when I was five and that is the only time I have ever been to his grave. I begged my uncle to take me, and as I helped my Sittie into the car an anxiety attack took hold of me. I shook the whole way there, though it wasn't long since you could drive anywhere in this town in under five minutes. Without enough time to calm myself, I stumbled out of the car at the cemetery, shaking and silent, as my uncle pointed to my father's final resting place. It was the coldest day of the weekend.
I reminded myself of the fact that nothing lay under that dirt besides worms, bones, and a silent box. I waited to feel a holy presence, for a spirit to touch me in the wind. It never happened. I knew it wouldn't, and yet I found myself standing there trying to decide if I should talk to the marker on the ground. To pretend that somehow he could hear the voice that 5 year old grew up to have. He couldn't, and I wasn't able to speak more than a short "everyday I..." that blew away in the wind as an unfinished sentence. I shed a few tears as I held my grandmother's hand, she hollered like it had just happened. My uncle said some kind words about how proud he would be and a few "if he were here" comments. The next morning I stopped at the cemetery on my way out of town and left some flowers with him, a colorful bouquet I put together for spring. I hope I have found some closure through the experience, though I am already back to being just another pathetic girl with daddy issues. I might be sounding sad, but trust me when I say I am fine.
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It has been a fun few weeks and I have made some amazing memories that I wont soon forget. The human heart is so strange, for such a small organ there is no limit to the number of people we can be missing. There are people, they know who they are, who I am still unable to get off my mind. To those I have told "I love you"-- It is amazing the effect you have had on me. One day we will be able to enjoy being best friends in person. To those I have told "I hate you"-- I need you even more and only say it out of pain. Thanks for the inspiration, perhaps one day the fates might permit me to have you.
=====================================================================
I should end with a giggle, because it is in my nature to leave friends laughing. How about a short story from the wedding? So there we sit, half way through the ceremony, enduring the propaganda. My cousin's Young Life minister asks the room to lower their heads so he might lead them in a prayer. As I sit there looking around the room at all of them, he begins his prayer with "Oh Heavenly Daddy..." yes, Daddy! I couldn't help but giggle at his poor judgment.
===================================================================
It snowed right before Christmas, my first snow ever. I gave my mother a painting, and I also sold two other pieces. Its nice to be getting some real work done again.
Zepp and MurderIsIn both joined me in Houston for a week. We went to see the Body Worlds exhibit at the Houston Museum of Natural Science.
I had my first taste of Ethiopian food and we enjoyed drunken bowling. Truly some of the best friends I have, I can't wait to move east and enjoy more debauchery with them. For New Years Eve we made the mistake of going to a poorly planned warehouse rave.
We eventually made up for it by joining KindaSean's NYE party for the ball to drop. Twelve jello shots later I was enjoying Smith on the balcony. What a fun way to celebrate the holiday. If you ever get the chance to meet Brett (aka MurderIsIn), I suggest making fart jokes until you get him laughing. I light up like a three year-old who found candy with every giggle.
After they left I had a few days to myself which were spent in bed with a fever, the flu, and loads of Kleenex. Regardless of my physical condition, I spent the time working through some problems I was having mentally. By the time I began to feel better it was Wednesday and time to fly to Austin in preparation for my cousin's wedding. That Friday, after enduring 5 hours in the car with my grandmother and her I found myself in the time warped town of Wichita Falls, Texas. I found myself once again surrounded by 200 of the closest members of my family.
The wedding was nice, the bride beautiful, the Leb food delicious. I must say that the highlight, as always, was at the reception when they got the Lebanese drum circle going, with 10 of my uncles playing their Debeke drums. All of the Phoneticians joined hands and began circling the room, kicking their feet up, shouting, and double stepping to the right dancing the Debka. The culture has always been my favorite part of being in this family.
While in this small town I was given the first chance that I've had in a decade to do something I've needed for 17 years. My father died from cancer when I was five and that is the only time I have ever been to his grave. I begged my uncle to take me, and as I helped my Sittie into the car an anxiety attack took hold of me. I shook the whole way there, though it wasn't long since you could drive anywhere in this town in under five minutes. Without enough time to calm myself, I stumbled out of the car at the cemetery, shaking and silent, as my uncle pointed to my father's final resting place. It was the coldest day of the weekend.
I reminded myself of the fact that nothing lay under that dirt besides worms, bones, and a silent box. I waited to feel a holy presence, for a spirit to touch me in the wind. It never happened. I knew it wouldn't, and yet I found myself standing there trying to decide if I should talk to the marker on the ground. To pretend that somehow he could hear the voice that 5 year old grew up to have. He couldn't, and I wasn't able to speak more than a short "everyday I..." that blew away in the wind as an unfinished sentence. I shed a few tears as I held my grandmother's hand, she hollered like it had just happened. My uncle said some kind words about how proud he would be and a few "if he were here" comments. The next morning I stopped at the cemetery on my way out of town and left some flowers with him, a colorful bouquet I put together for spring. I hope I have found some closure through the experience, though I am already back to being just another pathetic girl with daddy issues. I might be sounding sad, but trust me when I say I am fine.
=====================================================================
It has been a fun few weeks and I have made some amazing memories that I wont soon forget. The human heart is so strange, for such a small organ there is no limit to the number of people we can be missing. There are people, they know who they are, who I am still unable to get off my mind. To those I have told "I love you"-- It is amazing the effect you have had on me. One day we will be able to enjoy being best friends in person. To those I have told "I hate you"-- I need you even more and only say it out of pain. Thanks for the inspiration, perhaps one day the fates might permit me to have you.
=====================================================================
I should end with a giggle, because it is in my nature to leave friends laughing. How about a short story from the wedding? So there we sit, half way through the ceremony, enduring the propaganda. My cousin's Young Life minister asks the room to lower their heads so he might lead them in a prayer. As I sit there looking around the room at all of them, he begins his prayer with "Oh Heavenly Daddy..." yes, Daddy! I couldn't help but giggle at his poor judgment.
VIEW 25 of 36 COMMENTS
atmosphericchaos:
Thanks for the comment and I'm glad you enjoyed the set. Also, you have Miss Van artwork as your picture therefore you rule. That is all.
issue_:
i do love you. 