Sumpin' Witty

Be bold, be brave. Be loud and obnoxious. Be fearful and timid. Make waves, start fires, cause a commotion. Be anything but nice. Be compassionate and have passion. Be cunning and charismatic. Be sarcastic. Be rude. Say things that make people uncomfortable. Start awkward conversations. Laugh loudly. Tell jokes and stories. Laugh at your own jokes. Shake hands firmly with those you meet. Talk to strangers at parties. Memorize random facts to tell others. Be reliable and dependable or be flaky and flighty. Be punctual or always be late. Say yes to invitations. Show up with presents. Be outspoken or soft spoken, but be heard. Make your point and leave it at that. Listen closely and attentively to others. Be anything but nice. Be blunt and direct. Be romantic. Recite poetry. Sing loudly and off-key. Be caring and kind. Give people homemade gifts. Be flirtatious and funky. Wear costumes as often as possible and speak with fake accents and give fake names at parties. Be rowd...

She was difficult to describe. Not because she was plain or unremarkable. In fact, quite the opposite. The fact that she stood out so much, that she was unique, that was what made her almost indefinable. She was tall. Taller than most women and even most men. She had a long neck, broad shoulders, a strong back, with wide-set hips and legs that could have strangled someone, if she wanted to. Her hair was an odd color, somewhere between dirty blond, rusted orange, light brown or auburn and depending on the light, depending on the time of year or time of day or night, the way she wore it, or her mood, it could change color. Her eyes were the same. One moment they appeared blue, the next green, and the next a cold grey, and at a times a storm gathered in them, filling with dark clouds and streaked with lighting. These were the features that made her difficult to define. While her stature could not be ignored, her personality could at times be so reserved and almost meek that one ...

Dear Alcohol, It's hard to find the right words to say to you. I'm not even sure where to begin. We've been together for so long now and we know each other so well, and that's what makes this so difficult. I know it sounds cliche' but I want you to know that this isn't about you, it's about me. I think you're great. I think you're amazing and believe me, I do love you. It's just right now, I feel like I need to take some time for myself and figure out what I really want and I can't seem to do that with you around. We've had so many great times together over the years. When I look back on all the memories we've made together, it makes me that much more upset to say goodbye, but I have to do it. You see, I find myself putting you first all the time, and neglecting myself in the end. Even when it comes to other relationships and friendships I always end up putting you ahead of everyone else and while I usually don't regret it, ...

Each moment is like a grain of sand. Broken glass and sea shells, coral and pieces of life lived. It sits on the shore, just waiting to be touched, waiting for us to touch it. Each moment of our lives is just a piece of sand, coming together to make up the shore of our whole existence. And if we let it, it can start to bury us, to consume us. It can make us rough, covered from the warmth of the sun, hidden under the mass amounts of experiences we have to live. I'm working on letting go. I'm working on walking away from things that no longer serve me. I'm working on letting memories be memories, letting them be what they were, but leaving them in the past. Good memories and bad memories, and horrible ones, and wonderful ones, because if we carry all of them with us, if we try to hold on to each piece of sand, we won't have any room left for new ones. If you allow each grain of sand to cling to you, eventually you'll become heavy, weighed down. because ...

A dear friend of mine recently shared this poem with me. It was written in 1927 by the poet and philosopher Max Ehrmann, although he did not receive credit nor acclaim for it until much later. My friend gave me the poem and said she uses it in times when she needs to be reminded of certain ideals and ways to live life. Max Ehrmann wrote it for himself "because it counsels those virtues I felt myself most in need of." Funny how almost 100 years later this poem is still aptly fitting to life. I can't stop reading it myself, so I thought I would share it with you. Desiderata Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible and without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you...

I don't believe there is one soulmate out there waiting for you. It's not because I'm jaded, or don't believe in romance. In fact, quiet the opposite is true. I fall in love often and freely. Almost to a fault. Just ask my college roommates or my partner of 8 years. I used to go the library and fall madly in love with a man reading a book about social change in Latin America. I still fall in love with a man reading a book by an author I love, or signing a song that makes my heart melt. I'm actually a hopeless romantic and I believe love is the one true, unconditional resource. No matter what's happened to you, no matter how many times your heart has been broken, you can still love again and again. And while those who've been hurt badly may disagree, give it time, you'll see you still have more love to give. But I don't believe that there is one person, above all others that will change your life, save you from yourself. I don't believe ther...