I will never be described as exotic or mysterious. I'll never be able to get a suntan without first having a sunburn. I'll never have a proportionate hip-to-waist ratio.
But I will always be able to shake it to those who do.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
August Disgust
I came across this today, and I have to say that I'm not entirely opposed to an August succession from the calendar. August just seems superfluous; an extra month of heat, oppressive humidity, and 31-day tease of crisp, leaf-changing existence.
But I couldn't help but think of my baby brother, who will welcome his 23rd year on Friday. My other brother and I celebrate our birthdays in April and October respectively. Each spring and fall, we would skip to school in our birthday duds, laden down with trays of whatever confectionery delight our mom whipped up. Our classmates would gather around, vying for the biggest, softest, and most well-frosted cupcake. We were the prince and princess of our classes for one day a year.
Meanwhile, our resident August Baby celebrated birthday after birthday with just our family. No classroom celebrations. No leftover cupcakes for the bus ride home. No hand-decorated cards from the entire second-grade class.
So maybe instead of ending the summer on a sticky and saturated note, we should celebrate the lazy, ethereal, and undying days. We should lounge poolside, drink in hand. We should sport sundresses and crisp linen shirts and strappy sandals. We should travel, and eat, and dance. And most importantly, we should overcompensate for our friends who never got to partake in classroom birthday celebrations.
Daisy summer pipers come to town
Piping people out of doors
To see the magic all around
Listen now you'll hear his sound
Stare into a mirror pool
And laugh so princely vain
The skies become kaleidoscopes
With no two turns the same
But I couldn't help but think of my baby brother, who will welcome his 23rd year on Friday. My other brother and I celebrate our birthdays in April and October respectively. Each spring and fall, we would skip to school in our birthday duds, laden down with trays of whatever confectionery delight our mom whipped up. Our classmates would gather around, vying for the biggest, softest, and most well-frosted cupcake. We were the prince and princess of our classes for one day a year.
Meanwhile, our resident August Baby celebrated birthday after birthday with just our family. No classroom celebrations. No leftover cupcakes for the bus ride home. No hand-decorated cards from the entire second-grade class.
So maybe instead of ending the summer on a sticky and saturated note, we should celebrate the lazy, ethereal, and undying days. We should lounge poolside, drink in hand. We should sport sundresses and crisp linen shirts and strappy sandals. We should travel, and eat, and dance. And most importantly, we should overcompensate for our friends who never got to partake in classroom birthday celebrations.
Daisy summer pipers come to town
Piping people out of doors
To see the magic all around
Listen now you'll hear his sound
Stare into a mirror pool
And laugh so princely vain
The skies become kaleidoscopes
With no two turns the same
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
And Then There Was One
Last week, my mom came into town for a few days to help me after I had some minor sinus surgery. She left on Sunday, and I haven't been the same since. Nashville has been my home for the past five years, but within the past few months it's gotten harder and harder to say goodbye to my family during our respective visits to each other. Just the mention of the word 'mom,' and I can hardly keep my eyes from welling with tears.
Sometimes I worry that my personal contentedness is too dependent on the influence of other people in my life. I find myself seeking validation, comfort, and assurance from my friends and family. This feeling is especially evident when I experience uncertainty. When I question my career, my relationships, my finances, I just want to lie down and be rescued.
But the thing about human beings is that they are not guarantees. I know that even if my mom lived next door to me, there are a million circumstances that could take her out of my life. I know that friendships often have an expiration date. I know that people change their minds. And more importantly, I know that I have to be OK with myself regardless of the people who are (or are not) around me.
It all comes down to reminding myself that I am strong, capable, and resourceful. That I am able to deal with adversities even if I was the only person in my life. And that even if I wake up with only myself for the rest of my life, I will be OK.
When I'm trying to outrun you
you won't leave me alone
When I need you to be with me
I end up on my own
Oh, I wish that I could move you
Faster, be still, or rewind
But it's a matter of time
Sometimes I worry that my personal contentedness is too dependent on the influence of other people in my life. I find myself seeking validation, comfort, and assurance from my friends and family. This feeling is especially evident when I experience uncertainty. When I question my career, my relationships, my finances, I just want to lie down and be rescued.
But the thing about human beings is that they are not guarantees. I know that even if my mom lived next door to me, there are a million circumstances that could take her out of my life. I know that friendships often have an expiration date. I know that people change their minds. And more importantly, I know that I have to be OK with myself regardless of the people who are (or are not) around me.
It all comes down to reminding myself that I am strong, capable, and resourceful. That I am able to deal with adversities even if I was the only person in my life. And that even if I wake up with only myself for the rest of my life, I will be OK.
When I'm trying to outrun you
you won't leave me alone
When I need you to be with me
I end up on my own
Oh, I wish that I could move you
Faster, be still, or rewind
But it's a matter of time
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