Stories in all of us

Sometimes in the summer, I hate my job because it gets sooo boring. Since I primarily cover education, school being out for the summer = tres very bored Mary. Mary writes lots of filler pieces in the summer.

But sometimes, I get to write about the coolest stuff. And it makes me remember that I really do love my job. This week I got to hang out with our local cobbler (shoe repairman for those not down with the lingo), and he was just the neatest guy. I have always been fascinated by his shop. You walk in it and it just smells like leather and shoe polish. It's the coolest thing. I got to spend a couple of hours just hanging out with this guy and watching him fix broken heels, sew pieces of leather and glue soles together. It was really, really fascinating. He talked to me about how shoe repair shops are a dying business -- as are many specialized mom-and-pop businesses, which made me really sad.

And then yesterday, I got to interview this guy who's 68 years old and digs graves by hand! Who knew that anyone even still did that?? He was the neatest guy and told lots of neat stories about his life. He's seen and done quite a lot in his lifetime -- from boxing in his younger days to getting shot by a family friend! It's the stories like these that I live for and that make me glad to be a writer. It's these people whose stories I long to tell.

Never let me tell you that I don't love what I do.

Not too much longer...

I'm getting increasingly excited about England. I can't believe in less than two months, I will be boarding a plane and a half a day later I'll be landing in London! And from there it'll be off to Peterborough for five weeks of soaking up everything around me. I absolutely cannot wait.

I still feel like there's so much left to be done. I have to purchase some more stuff for our GSE team outfits, I have to buy gifts for my host families, I have to meet more with my team members and finalize all our plans. I'll have to pack like a madwoman. I'll have to get everything situated with work ... SO much to do!

I only hope I can make it the experience it needs to be. I hope I try new things, that I'm able to be open to new experience and that I'm just able take away everything I possibly can from it.

Conclusions from the past few days

I made darned good chocolate icing.

Birthdays are fun, no matter your age. And even when they're not yours.

I'm going to miss my roommate when we part ways in five or six months because she has to go live with a boy.

Dinners at Outback, going to movies, attending baseball games and eating cupcakes never grow old as ways to celebrate.

Reasons to smile

Ya know how some songs just make you happy? Keith Urban's "You Look Good in My Shirt" is one of those for me right now. I know I talk a lot about music, but I really can't help it. Next to writing, music is my next biggest love. And next to writing, it's my next best therapy.

It's there for you when you're giddy, there when you're lost, there for whatever occassion, whatever mood. There's a song for every feeling, every moment in time.

But seriously, this song just makes me smile. It's great. Every time I hear it, I can't help but turn it up. I'm already a huge fan of Keith Urban's, and this song just further solidifies that fandom.

"And maybe it's a little too early
To know if this is gonna work
All I know is you're sure looking
Good in my shirt
That's right
You look good in my shirt"

Notes

I'm becoming my parents. Though I don't drink coffee every day, I could. And on those days that I don't, I'm not really awake. I'm really in a sleepwalking/pseduo-awake state and am only responsive through habit. So if I don't remember a conversation or an event, I'll likely blame it on a lack of coffee. It's amazing the depencies we effortlessly fall into. Ahh, coffee...sweet, sweet caffiene-rushing-through-my-veins addiction.

I've been reading some Nicholas Sparks books, which is much-welcomed easy reading after finally finishing beast-of-a-book Atlas Shrugged. I do feel smarter for having read A.S., however, so no regrets.

Shoes make me happy. I'm highly superficial, I know. My shoe storage thingy is burgeoning with flats and heels and flip flops. And yes, that makes me happy.

I'm trying to figure out whether there are any runs I can do before I go to England. I'm worried about whether I'll be able to run or not while I'm over there. Shannon, who went to Australia last year, said a couple of her team members managed to squeeze in a run from time to time, so that was encouraging. I guess I'll pack my sneakers and shorts and hope for the best. I'd love to do a 5k-10k before I go, but it's not looking like that's going to happen with a fast-filling schedule on the horizon.

The next weeks and months are going to be hella crazy. Wedding prep and festivities with Lee, GSE England team meetings, the beginnings of wedding stuff with Mel, etc., etc.

Songs say it better

Faith Hill -- "Like We Never Loved at All"

You never looked so good
as you did last night,
underneath the city lights,
there walking with your friend,
laughing at the moon.
I swear you looked right through me.
But I'm still living with your goodbye,
and you're just going on with your life.

How can you just walk on by
without one tear in your eye?
Don't you have the slightest feelings left for me?
Maybe thats just your way
of dealing with the pain,
forgetting everything
between our rise and fall
like we never loved at all.

You, I hear you're doing fine.
Seems like you're doing well
as far as I can tell.
Time is leaving us behind,
another week has passed
and still I haven't laughed yet.
So tell me, what your secret is
to letting go, letting go like you did,
like you did.

How can you just walk on by
without one tear in your eye?
Don't you have the slightest feelings left for me?
Maybe that's just your wayof dealing with the pain,f
orgetting everythingbetween our rise and fall
like we never loved at all.

Did you forget the magic?
Did you forget the passion?
Oh, and did you ever miss me,
and long to kiss me?
Oh baby, baby.

Maybe that's just your way
of dealing with the pain,
forgetting everything
between our rise and fall
like we never loved at all

Meet me:

I am head over heels in love with the written word. I love to write, to read, to conceptualize. My life essentialy revolves around words and grammar and story lines. And I'm okay with that.

I stress entirely too much. All day every day, I'm stressing. About something.

I need love, affection, acceptance.

Wikipedia is my friend. I find myself constanting looking up random stuff and trying to educate myself. I hate not knowing about or understanding a particular subject.

Grease is the best movie ever.

I live in a dream world.

I'm not as smart as I'd like to be.

I have a great many faults: I curse too much. I talk too much. I'm loud at inappropriate times. I forget decorum. I get silly after a few glasses of wine. I'm too judgemental. I'm proud.

I think it's possible to be brainy and brilliant. To know it all and look good in heels.

I'm indecisive.

I long for more.