Friday, January 28, 2005

Going Home




You know, as I feel sorry for myself, and I have been, I think about a girl I met for a brief moment this summer.  It was a Friday early in September.   I can't describe her as anything less than an angel sent by God.

This summer I worked at Hobby Lobby, a Michael's art supply, retail store but bigger and much cheaper.  As some of you know, St. Jude a medical hospital for children with cancer and the nation's leading cancer research hospital is located in Memphis.  Many of the sick children are forced to leave home for months and even years to receive treatment here in Memphis.  In this journey these children leave mostly everything they own in their home and live in apartments, with their families, provided by the hospital.  These children, wiser beyond their years, are brought to Hobby Lobby by their nurses to purchase items that they left at home.  The things you don't think to pack when your child is in a life and death situation, simple items such as crayons, coloring books and puzzles.

As this ten year old child was being pushed around the store in her wheelchair, I couldn't help but to be drawn to her.  Her head had small tufts of hair scattered, but it was mostly bare, her small skeleton scarcely filled half the wheelchair. She was sick and yet she was filled with such wholeness.

As I walked by, one of her nurses asked the girl, "Would you like to purchase these markers?"

The girl said to the nurse, "No ma'am, I have markers at home," at this point she looked at me and said, "I'm going home."

It was then that the nurse looked at me and I knew.  I walked away before the girl could see me crying.  Four days later the girl succumbs to cancer.

 It is days like today that I begin to feel sorry for myself that I think about this girl.  Either she was absolutely determined to beat her disease or she knew that she was going to her final home.  Any so called problem I have seems infinitesimal compared to what this little child had to deal with on a daily basis.


Saturday, January 8, 2005

Short Men




Last night I was at a girl friend's house.  She and I were putting her four-year old daughter to bed.  We were all laying the bed having a slumber party.  The little girl was rubbing my back.  Awe so sweet!  As children do, she didn't want to go to sleep.  She got up and began to walk on my back.

I said to my girl friend, "This is one of the reason's why I miss WF."

She busted me out with, "Why because he was small enough to walk on your back?"

For all of those that met him, it should be as hilarious to you as it is to me. He is 5'8 and he weighed 135 pounds on a 'heavy' day. I meant that I occasionally missed him because we had human interaction and touching.

In fact, I laughed so hard the four year old girl fell off of my back.

I have been laughing spontaneously throughout the day.  Napoléon is rolling in his grave on behalf of all short men.

Monday, January 3, 2005

Confessions of a Bad Kiss



A kiss is a fantastic event.  Betty Everett has been telling girls for decades that "if he loves you so it is in his kiss." I know I have had at least one kiss from a person, and it just so happens that I have been anticipating, wanting and fantasizing about his kiss.  The potential of this one kiss holds so much.  However, sometimes a kiss is sprung on you without notification or reciprocal feelings.  Those should be kept to the confines of bad kiss confessions. 

I hold kissing to a high standard.  All kisses are judged from this one moment that is taken straight out of my journal.

The scent of strawberry lip gloss, beer, and wool fills my nostrils when he leans in.  He holds his slight distance and I closed my eyes.  His hands, which are holding my face and neck, are guiding our faces towards each other and then finally our lips graze. His hot breath intermingles with mine on our faces. My face flushes with excitement.  My knees get weak and I lean in further for support, his body against mine.  At this point I always try to suppress giggles from nervousness and giddiness and I can't believe that HE is actually kissing me. When we pull back I just stand there stunned, with my eyes still closed.  I open my eyes in a euphoric daze, and I just want to do a happy dance, but I refrain because at this point I just want to play it cool. That's a no go on playing it cool. I am an open book and wear my emotions on my sleeve. I can't wait for the next kiss!

That is the best kiss I've ever experienced.  

I didn't have so much luck this year on New Year’s. It is midnight at a fraternity house. Yes, I'm a little too old to be there, but the house is full of non-traditional students and alumni.  You've got to remember the movie Old School just came out this year.

I make a motion to simply hug one of my guy friends.  As I go in for the hug he quickly does the switch and bait and turns his face into mine.  I was drinking; my reactions are slowed!  I got an open mouth kiss all the way from my ear to my mouth.  His lips landed squarely surrounding my entire mouth.  I have big luscious lips, so that is quite a feat!  The entire right side of my face is sopping wet. At least I got a kiss at midnight.

I went outside and interrupted a conversation between my guy friend and another guy. I was telling them about what had just happened. I said, "Big Billy just unexpectedly kissed me. I think I'm going to have bad luck!"

The guy friend leaned in and kissed me too.  I admit it, I kissed him back.  We have a completely platonic relationship.  I never imagined kissing him, ever.

We pull away from the kiss and quizzically look at each other.  At the exact same moment we both say, "That was a really bad kiss."

I'm not laying all of the blame on him, but with all of the girls he dates I thought he would be a better kisser.

He said, "Let's try it again." 

He leaned in slowly.  Our lips touch.  We are kissing.  It is still bad.  The guy that was having the conversation with my guy friend when I interrupted said he didn't want me to have bad luck all year, so he kissed me too. And it was good. 

I remember one of my best girlfriends telling me a story after a wild night in high school.  She was at secret high school party in a city park.  The city park was more like woods in a forest, a scene from the movie Dazed and Confused. She confided in me a real, juicy secret.  At the party she had kissed two guys that night!  My high school self was appalled.  I imagined my friend turning into a raging slut from two kisses. I was naive.  I informed her that I would NEVER kiss two guys in one night.  My-oh-my, how things change.  I guess I didn't technically lie.  She is just before her time.