Childhood

I was cleaning up one of the spare rooms in my house which tends to be used for storage. I found my memory boxes! Basically just shoeboxes where I've thrown a bunch of stuff that I wanted to keep. So there are a variety of notes (remember those note passing days?) that i'd received. I love notes! I tend to stock pile any notes that I receive which is why i have an impossible time deleting e-mails.

I found a diary that I wrote when I was in elementary school. The majority of entries along the lines of "I really like (insert boy name)." Or my favorite "I wasn't paying attention for like ten seconds and they scored a goal." Obviously as goalie on a soccer team that had to have been a tramatic experience for a 10 yr old. ;) The things we get upset about as children. LOVE IT!

ohh... what else did I find... I found a name tag from my first job at White Castle. God I hated that job. But options were limited at 16. I loved the lable that I stuck to the back that said "BITCH." Classic.

The best things that I found are these two collages that I put together when I was about 17 or 18 to mail to a few friends I had around the world. How fun is it that I was able to mail something to Australia and England? I'm curious as hell to find out if either of the people I sent them to still have them. I'm debating messaging them out of the blue and asking.

I can't remember anything else of import that I found other than pictures.. lots of pictures. :) I hoard them almost as bad as notes and cards.

Forever

I've randomly decided to start posting again. It's kind of been forever and a day.... I figure, if I'm paying money for the site, I should probably use it. :D

innocence

the innocence of a child is
seen only through the passion
they show each day for things
that we pass by so quickly.
how hard it is to grin so broadly
at first light christmas morning
for now that we've grown older
everythign has lost its joy.
we hold our heads so high above
the crowds on equal levels
that we forget the love we had
then for everything around.
how painful it is to acknowledge
the loss of compassion we've felt
as the years fade away so quickly.
the innocence of a child is apparent
in the fear of those monsters in
the closet or hiding under the bed.
but now the fear of failure
encompasses our minds
as we step up higher on
that steep business ladder.
the innocence of a child
is presented in the love they
show and give so freely of.
but now we protect our hearts
and open them to no one
for fear of getting hurt
or ending up tied down.
the innocence of a child is
seen only through the passion
they show each day for things
that we pass by so quickly.

Un Poema

¿Como sabes quien soy?
Cuando yo no se ádonde voy.
¿Como sabes la realidad?
Cuando no escuchas la verdad.
No comprendes mi corazon
ni te sientes ninguan emoción.

Oh that is so a poem from second year spanish. It probably doesn't even make since but I felt the need to share.

I can't help but wonder...

do my old friends ever think of me? People I was once close to and have since lost touch... do they, like me, look at something and think of times long past? I'm simply in one of those moods where I cannot help but regret those friendships I've let slip away. The angry conversations that ended it. With some, I remember the last time we spoke. That very last coversation. And I remember slowly letting go of those few reminders I had left. It's weird. With all the technology and the search engines, the people I really want to find have simply disappeared.

I was thinking....

the other day about whether or not random people bitch about me. Here's the thing... if someone is an idiot while driving and almost wrecks me or cuts me off, I go into work complaining about "that freaking moron who doesn't know how to drive" and how he/she tried to run me off the road. So I was wondering how many stories I've been the star of as "that freaking idiot" didn't see me and cut me off. Or that "freaking idiot" was in the fast lane driving 50 mph when the speed limit was 55!

I once heard someone say that everyone thinks they are the best driver out there.

"Anyone going slower than me is a moron and anyone going faster is a jackass."

so my problem....

with posting is that I always think of something that I want to write about during the day. Some frustration or whatever and then by the time I get home and on the computer to update, I forget what I wanted to say. I have a terrible memory.