Applebee's.. actually Apple Gold Group

I had my first day of training today and somehow I still have enough energy to post. It was probably one of the best days Ive had in a while. I say that as if prom never happened... or last week. Ive been really good lately actually. Now that I think about it, today is nothing compared to my past days.

On my first day, a cockroach crashed the dinner party on table eleven. The couple just laughed and said they are coming back for more... sometimes I wonder if people are sane, or if I am. If a cockroach is found within ten feet of my food, its over. I really enjoy working though! I cant wait for the tips to come rolling in. Fo sho.

As life has been on fast forward these past few weeks, Ive been able to write alot in the corners of notebooks and the backs of music sheets. I just never remember to bring them home to post.

There is something about being miserable that brings in a lot of inspiration to write. Whenever I smile, Id rather enjoy the day than writing about it. I still thinki and write in my head.. I just lack pen and paper. I wish I could get into the habit of always carrying something with me.


I thought about a really old memory today about my grandma. For somereason, she has really been on my mind. It was a night that I was sleeping beside her. She had woken up and was really sick. (I am going to try and not be very descriptive.. thinking about the picture of this makes me lose all feeling in my stomach). Black bile was seeping out of her mouth. She was REALLY sick. I didnt have the capacity to emotionally react to this. I just got up, turned on the light, and cut off her robe. I grabbed towels and a cup for her to expel the remaining black goo. she kept on saying my name as if I wasnt really there. I washed her down with rags and her favorite bath and body shampoo ans soap. Through out this ordeal, I had no feeling. I was in help mode I guess. I just kept going. I told her it was okay and normal for this to happen... but in reality it scared me shitless. What the hell was that?? I gave her a new robe that was cut in the back so her arms could slip through the sleeves and just lay ontop of her. She finally opened her eyes fully and just looked through me. Its as if she saw something in me, maybe something horrifying.. or just different to her that she had this puzzled and scared look on her face. She stared, clearly and deliberately into me. I thought I was naked. I thought my inner most feelings was brought out for her to examine. I think she saw the fear for her in my eyes and immediately regretted allowing her to look. She grabbed my hand and muttered something about sweet potatoes again and a thank you. "Thank you Erika, I love you". She is probably one of the few people I truly believe when they say that to me. I know she loves me, fear and all. For someone who has all the potential and right to be bitter about their situation, to reach out, STILL, and say they loved me... That really takes someone to mean that. It takes a person that knows what love feels like to say that. UNCONDITIONAL. AGAPE. love. I want to learn from her. I want to be like her in that regard.

If I ever get ovarian cancer or any other kind for that matter. Im signing the DNR sheet. I'll step on my own oxygen tube.


P.S. Boneless Buffalo wings at applebees is 1300 calories.. jussayin.

Mountains certainly can be moved, with Paul Bunyan.

I have a lot to say, but I dont know how to put it into words...

I feel like a volcanoe, dorment for so long and now Im just exploding with all that Ive kept in. The good, the bad... but mostly good.

I miss her

I drove home today, smiling.
Not because of anyone, but just because I felt touched by someone. I've been numb for way too long. Taking blows without flinching and I realize how unhealthy that is.

These are the nights I miss grandma most. I want her to be in that room waiting for me to talk to her about my day, and asking about hers. I want to talk about the birds. I already feel her slipping away. My memory fades, yet my sorrow grows stronger. I want her advice. I want her hand.

Darkest Things

I have been doing a lot of thinking this weekend. Who I want to be, who I want to be with, and most importantly, where I want to go with who I want to be with.

Choices, are hardest when you know it will effect the rest of your life. Its not just about what class to take next year, its where do you want to be in debt and what do you want to dedicate your life career too. How do people decide on these things?? I need someone to just lay it out for me. Tell me what is best. Give me that lucky card.



I sat on my porch,
sipping on that filter paper
and soaking up the rain.

Instead of thinking
of you, I thought about
being a butterfly,

Floating above the washed
out streets and wilted
dandelions caressing
the drops of water beneath
them

Singing,
about how lonely hearts
soak up the rain.

Well well well, young grasshopper.

Ginger snaps make me wonder if it is even worthy of being considered a cookie... as if it tastes like home.

Money money money, seems to be on everyone's mind lately. You know what? IT makes me want to go burn it. It's so constricting. Who would have ever thought that a green piece of paper could stop me from doing anything.

How it can starve a family, wreck lives, buy love, buy you.

It bought me, from time to time.

I wont ever let that happen again.

Thoughts

I feel like an apple turn over. One day Im good, next Im cold.

Since I havent been diligently posting like I thought I was, my thoughts have accumulated.

Women wear mascara in hopes of showing how wide the doors are to their heart. How inviting they are to their soul.

Sometimes I get so angry, the fury inside me has daydreams of punching a wall... with a persons face on it. Then kicking a door that you were about to open, and giving you a splinter.

Unfortunetly, reality sets in and I cry instead... because that is what I do when I am mad. Maybe I'll blog for real later.

Well, I had my last spring concert tonight. I cant say that I am complaining about it either. When I was onstage, I didnt feel the nervous jitters that I once had in my tummy. I guess after eighth grade.. you just kind of get over it. I miss that. I miss feeling like everything is new. Instead, Im saying everything is my last.

I cried during the second movement of Lincolnshire. I dont know how to describe this overwhelming moment. The lights dimmed, at least from my eyes, and all I could see is the beauty of where I was sitting. I was sitting in a masterpiece of music. It was being created all over again, around me, in me, and through me. I could hardly play, but felt completely guilty if I didnt. The tears welled at the curve of my neck and I let them stay there. They were hot and kept me from freezing over with goosebumps. There is just something about letting your feelings go through music. Playing somehow takes away whatever pain your feeling and replaces it with love. Love for the notes, harmony, the feeling of life around you. Everyone wanting the same thing you do. It is absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Radiant.
When the trumpet soared, I just about lost it altogether.




Come away with me,
take me.
and perfect the art
of shattering our hearts.




P.S.

P.S. Is what the alphabet would look like if you took out Q and R.

Will fight.

These are the things I will fight for.

You.
My sister.
The kitten in the tree.
The Congo
Ice cream on a sunny day
Tea
The life of Poetry
Vinyl and needles
Collages
Human Rights of any kind
You.

Cool Hand Luke

I watched this movie a long time ago, but I remember it so well. It really made an impression on me. So many quotable lines... but I wont repeat them in fear of redundency. I just really miss watching old movies. Old classic movies that most people forget about because of high-tech avatar or wonderland. What ever happened to Clark Gable? Well one part of this movie where Luke eats more boiled eggs than humanly possible, made me really feel something. Well, more than just the initial instinct to go and throw up myself. I want to be him. Maybe not in prison but cool... Nonchalant like, you know what I mean? Let the Bosses in my life try and make me miserable. I dare them. I dont ever want to be broken like Luke. He escapes and gets caught a million times but never breaks. He is always his own, always looking for an out.

Forgive

I havnt posted in a couple days, I feel like Ive been putting myself on hold.

The big news, Im moving. Far enough to call it that, a couple neighborhoods away. Im honestly really sad about it. My house reminds me of a Lady and the Shoe house. Its a ranch house with things everywhere, but not unbearable. Just enough mess to make you feel like you can kick back and put your feet up with your shoes on. It's best described as cozy. A comfort home.

The house we are moving to? Well, it has a pool, lots of space, very classy. Its a house were you have formal parties and you wear only socks around. Its definately a step up, but I feel like its a step down. Why am I complaining anyways? Im moving away in three months. I just wont have any home to come home to.


Sometimes I feel out of breath, emotionally. I fear, if I take in a deep breath, it might be too much, but I desperately need it. I dont usually diagnose myself, but... Im due for a breakdown. So maybe I can build myself back up again. Someone reached out to me yesterday. It happened in the most unexpected way. I beleive people cross your path for a reason, to teach you something or show you something. This person showed me how to be spiritual once again. How to start a relationship with God again. How to care, about things infinetly beyond yourself, and love life once again.



Most importantly, forgive yourself.








Poem later.