indeed.

just something to think about right before you go to bed.

In his 1957 novel Dandelion Wine, Ray Bradbury writes as the protagonist's dying grandmother. She says, "Important thing is not the me that's lying here, but the me that's sitting on the edge of the bed looking back at me, and the me that's downstairs cooking supper, or out in the garage under the car, or in the library reading. All the new parts, they count. I'm not really dying today. No person ever died that had a family."

AND

There is a theory put forth by Stephen Hawking based on work by R. Feynman (a brilliant physicist) that examines the possibility of multiple realities and concludes that the act of observing something creates the history that led to it. In other words, your past is constantly rewritten to accomodate your present. It only seems static because you don't know any better.






mind=blown











Sleep tight.

already a heartbreaker.

Those lips + a name like Rhett Harley = hearts broken. We're talking demolished.

spring fever.

on the road by lambskin featuring a military style jacket

le sigh.

"C'est cela l'amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour." -Albert Camus

august 1999.

If I had known your eyes
held the heart of time
I would have stayed there longer

instead we drank in the summer
content with these half-bodies
for now

popsicle-stained mouths
drying in the sun, a thin reed of light
just barely behind the dip dyed mountains

night came and we vanished
into this sappy pine
finding our star, to plot a course

our journey seemed endless.

scenes from the weekend.

Dad's birthday lunch at Maddox Ranch House.
Brigham City Temple and Tabernacle.
Making a quilt for Baby Rhett.
White birthday cake, lemon buttercream, blackberry filling.
80 degree weather.
I love my family.

there's a reason 98% of my poetry posts come from this man.

quelle chance.

Apparently there is a new young man I have my eye on. We'll call him The Accountant. My mother approves. Cara approves. Even Rhett approves. The Accountant and I have had opportunities to meet up somehow but not until tonight did we actually talk to each other. It happened like this...::fade out scene:::

::Fade in::

I had worked late because it's the month end and the end of the month means reports, and piles of reports, topped with a healthy dose of THOUSANDS OF EMAILS AND DISCUSSIONS REGARDING REPORTS. (Kind of like this scene from Office Space, but without the detached irony.)

I finished what work could be done for the day and headed out. I came out of the door and angels singing there he was, waiting for the elevator. What a crazy random happenstance, right?

We get on the elevator and talk. We continue to talk as we walk together out of the building and to the garage where our cars are parked. Usually I park in front of the building but I was a couple minutes later today and the spaces were all taken. Hence the garage.

In both instances (parking, elevator) it was a matter of mere minutes for all of this to fall into place.

I know you are extremely taken aback as I am by all these seemingly insignificant things that enabled this First Meeting with The (Adorable) Accountant to happen.

Stay tuned.

allons-y.

ain't no party
like a Time Lord party
because
a Time Lord party
is not bound
by typical temporal parameters
and thus
don't stop.






(unless your name is matt smith in which case the party has come to a crashing halt and everyone is staring at each other awkwardly over lukewarm cups of dime store pineapple punch.)