Sister


We went to see Dave Matthews last week... and ever since his encore "Sister" I have not been able to get the song out of my head. Before he started the encore he explained that his sister was his kindred spirit... and that when she was born her heart was place in his body... and vise versa. So he always felt like he was with her in spirit. Sadly, she was killed in 1994, by her husband who then shot himself
This got me to thinking, naturally, about my relationships with others. I was not blessed with a sister... but I've had the luxery of hand picking several sisters... my own kindred spirits. Erin, Kerry, and Kim have been my friends for a very long time... my hand-picked sisters in life... then I was blessed again to get Crystal when I moved to Texas. So, here are the lyrics to DMB's "Sister" for my sisters.... I <3 you guys....

Sister.... a song about Jane

Passing time with you in mind
Its another quiet night
Feel the ground against my back
Count the stars against the black
Think about another day
Wishing I was far away
Wherever I dreamed I was
You were there with me

(Chorus)Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cry
I feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, keep me

I hope you always know its true
I would never make it through
You could make the sun go dark
Just by walking away
Playing like we used to play
Like it would never go away
I feel you beating in my chest
I'd be dead without you

(Chorus)Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cryI feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, you keep me
I hope you always know its true
I would never make it through
You could make the heavens fall
Just by walking away

(Chorus)Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cryI feel your tears
Running down my faceSister, sister, you keep me

My Caccoon has a malfunction!



When I first met Brian I was free... I said what I thought and I did whatever felt good at the moment... i.e. going hiking, playing frisbee, saying mean stuff... which was more funny than mean. What I've noticed in the past few months is that I've gone into a cacoon. I just can't figure out why.
Usually the more you know someone the more open you become. This makes no sence to me!
I wish I knew why I was open at one time and now I'm not. I think maybe it's because I love him... and I'm worried that saying what I think and doing what I feel will drive him away. I feel as if I'm caught between who I want to be and who I am. I'm honestly afraid that if he ever sees the real me he won't like me.
Is everyone else this afraid? Or is it just me?

Emo


This weekend was different from most... Brian went to Lake Hartwell and I went home to visit my family. My father has been very sick (he spent 20 days in the hospital last month and NO ONE KNEW) sad, i know... but he values his privacy and I try to let him have it. So, I went home to look at a nursing home for my father... and I toured it and he is now there.
On saturday I took three of my nephews (Aron, Damien and Jacob) to see that Ricky Bobby movie... not very funny to me... I think Will Ferrell is loosing his funny. Afterwards my oldest nephew, Aron, wanted to go to see a band play. He has a friend who is in the band... and I love going to shows and I know how much of a bummer it is for there to be one and not be able to get there... so we went.
What I want to know is... what's wrong with the youth of america? These kids have the worst taste in clothing, hair and music... it's like they are leaving a big ol black X on the face of their generation.
I know what we all wore in high school puzzled our parents... the shag hair cuts, the bell bottom jeans and chunky shoes, but these kids look like someone with a mental condition did their styling. All of the guys (with the exception of my nephew) were wearing girls jeans that were wayyy.... too tight, their little brothers t-ball t-shirt, studded belts with big ol belt buckles *which i liked* and old nasty Vans sneakers. The girls were not much better... they too were wearing too tight jeans and stupid t shirts that were too small.
The music was just awful! I hate to see people wasting their talents... and thats what this was, a waste of talent. I guess to them it looks good and sounds good... but to me it was far from good. I was hoping that the generation after mine would be cooler than my generation... and i guess from where they are sitting it is. This whole Emo things has gotta go! IT makes me feel old, and it's not flattering.

No Habla Englais?


Last week at work was kinda nuts. My "boss" Lara was out of town... she left me a list of things to do while she was gone and I did them all in one day not realizing that the list was for three days, not one. This left me with two days to come up with things to do. And I managed to occupy my time in a VERY CONSTRUCTIVE MANNER.
I've always thought that I was more like my father than my mother... but this past week I was my mothers child. We have this closet at work... it seems to be a "catch all" for anything no one wants to deal with... well, there is an office that is the "catch all overflow" it handles the rest of the stuff no one wants to look at. I've been told that these two rooms are cleaned all the time... but they were too much for me to bear.
I went into the back and asked for my very own cleaning guy... his name is Adrian and he is a recent immigrant to America from Mexico... and man did we WORK! on the first day we cleaned the closet... and it took us about 3 hours from start to finish... with a couple of coca-cola brakes...
On the second day we cleaned the office... this took us about 4 hours... we took a PALLETT of junk out of the office and found it's home... both rooms look ten times better than they did.
What I realized while we did this was that Adrian and I had no miscommunication. We just worked... he speaks NO ENGLISH AT ALL... he now knows the words "garbage", "keep", and FINISHED! Adrian and I did not need to talk, we simply needed to WORK. It's not very often that you find someone who will just follow your lead and help you... I guess that's what I'm getting at. He was just as tired as I was... poor thing works 12 hour shifts... but he kept going.
I feel bad sometimes for people who move here from other countries... they don't know the language, or the currency... or the way our politics roll... but they hang in there and work hard to have more than what they had in their own country. I'm glad to live in a country where people know they can come for shelter and help... a place that is a mother to all.