November

November flew by
In the blink of an eye!
No time to breathe!
No time to sigh!
Weekends at Viejas,
Everyday phone calls,
Thanksgiving's come and gone.
Next thing you know,
There's a dusting of snow
In the mountains of east San Diego.

October

October, full of frights,
Full of dark secrets,
Full of sprites.
I travelled to Tucson, to Tombstone,
To Flagstaff,
Burned some rubber along route 66.
On our way down the river,
Saw the beauty of America.
A few days on the road,
Windows rolled down,
And music turned up,
But I couldn't escape all that I'd hoped.
Borrowed trouble in my mind,
Borrowed trouble in my heart.
Not even sure how to explain the confusion
In both, as far as men are concerned.
Flirting and humor, romance and heartache,
Just like all of the tales so often told,
And me, just trying to go with the flow.

September

September had its ups and downs,
Great concerts, long hours, and a few more rounds.
Two men and their guitars
Kicked off the month.
Another trip to LA,
Just to hear these fellas play
Was worth every bit of coffee
I had to drink the next day.
Then Opening week hit like a hammer!
Early mornings, long days,
But not even eleven thousand students
Could make us stammer.
Whirled into the wind
By a visiting friend
Left me tired but happy,
Confused and unnerved,
And a dozen other things
That I probably deserved.
We'll see where this goes.
We'll see what this brings,
And which way the wind blows.

August

Start the month off with a bang!
Making memories all the time!
Followed a band up to LA,
Followed it up to SLO,
Fell in love with a fiddle,
A harmonica, a banjo.
Laughs on the open road,
Music, and a best friend,
Made everything else in the month
Pale by comparison.
Now the dog days of summer
Are coming to an end.
So bring on the harvest moon
And whatever's around the bend.

July

Motto of the month:
Work hard, play harder
Than I’ve ever done before.
Burning that candle bright
At both ends,
And watching the wax
Drip the hours away.
Dog days of summer,
Month of my birth,
Has filled my nights
With dancing and mirth,
But work gets me down
So we go a few rounds,
Just to start it all over again.

 

June

June brought on gloom,

Deeper than puddles

After a rain.

Broke down at home,

And at work,

Just the same.

Unable to hide all the pain

I’d had hid

Over the years,

Stored away in my head.

But it’s time to move on,

Rip myself from the past,

Learn how to love

And enjoy life at last.

Remember how to laugh

And smile again.

Hold on to what's good.

Hold on to what's true.

And hope that, in the end,
They'll hold on to you, too.

May

May brought humility,

Honor and strength,

Welcoming home

Our nation’s young men and women

Hell-bent on protecting our freedom.
Overwhelming and powerful,
Putting things in perspective,
Talking to veterans
About their experiences
And planting flags on graves,
Paying homage to the sacrifices made.
All else in May
Pales in compare
To Memorial Day,
And honoring those near, far, and everywhere.

April

Walking on pins and needles,

Afraid to upset anyone and anything.

Not succeeding, but always reaching.

Not finding that peace.

Work as hectic as can be.

Idiocy abounds.

Stressed about parents,

But gotta keep myself from getting down.

So burn that candle at both ends,

And hope that you can learn to bend.

Swallow your pride

Like the April showers

And wish for nothing in May

But happiness and flowers.

A Psalm of Life

What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing
Learn to labor and to wait.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

March

* I'm just going to say that I'm not feeling this one... it was a struggle to write and I do not feel like I encapsulated the events and the feelings of the month at all, but alas, the first week of the new month is over and I must post something before it gets any later... =/ Mreh.

Emotions ran rampant,

Ran out of control.

Sitting and waiting

Never did any good at all.

My dad pacing the floor,

Anxious to be at my mother’s side.

My sister talking non-stop,

And me just wanting to hide.

But some prayers are answered

And this one went through.

My mom came out okay,

Just lots of healing left to do.

And then to the east, I had to fly,

Off to a conference, where my liver did die.

Kindred spirits, I met,

Bared my soul to these guys,

Who, with their kind words,

Brought tears to my eyes.

And under the light of a neon moon,

I knew it would be over all too soon.

Back to California to help out at home,

Emotions raw and exhausted,

But holding my own.

Been pushed to the limit

Of things I can handle

But through all this,

For so much, I have to be thankful:

A mom getting better,

A safe trip to Raleigh

Old friends and new,

To support me

Through all the folly.

February

I will start off by saying, well played, February, well played.

 

This month was full of ups and downs,

Blushing conversations and harsh call-outs.

Friendships called into question

And new connections made

Have made this month quite interesting

In strange, strange ways.
Heartache, yes, but love and desire, too
Uncertainty prevails in everything I do.

Now the month of spring is upon us

And we’ll see just what it brings

Hospital stays and airplanes,

I know it has in store.

Now I’m left just wondering

What else awaits

Beyond the February door.

Friendship

Hmmm writing honestly about this is going to suck. This month two of my closest friends called into question something that I pride myself on: my friendships. I had thought that that was something that I’d gotten right, something I wasn’t half bad at. I kinda figured that this is why people come to me for advice or to vent or whatever. But I guess that isn’t the case. Instead I find out that I’m “someone who hurts her friends” and who is “highly critical.” And so I don’t have much to say anymore. And who knows you better than your friends? I judge myself by my friends. I regard them as pretty awesome people and I’ve considered myself lucky to have them in my life, and so to be found so lacking in the friendship skills area by two people who know me so well… I have no choice but to figure that it’s true. I may not coddle and comfort, but I won’t lie about how I feel. I guess that makes me a bitch. I’m glad that there are things that I do keep to myself. I am glad that I don’t say everything I could and everything that I want to, because God only knows what my friends would think of me then. And so it hurts. Because I don’t want to hurt the people around me. So what do you do when just by being you is enough to hurt the people around you or make them feel criticized?

You change. That’s what you do.

I’ll take a step back. People don’t need to know what I think. I have nothing to say. Good, bad, or otherwise. I will take a less active part in what goes on around me. I will not be so involved in the lives of my friends. At this moment, I’m not even comfortable with them coming to me for …anything… because I don’t want to hurt them. It sucks, cutting yourself off. Stifling your thoughts and opinions. Wanting to help but being afraid that something you’ll say will just end up hurting someone you care about. I’ve had plenty of blows emotionally, but I don’t think I’ve had one regarding the type of friend I am, never to this extent. Seriously, friendship…the one thing I thought I was doing right. I feel like I’ve made the effort to make this year rock. I’ve suggested outings and events. Each one pretty dang awesome, I think. But I’m tired. What’s the point? Oh well, the year is young. But wow, I haven’t hurt like this in awhile, finding myself tearing up or crying almost every day since it was said.


Update (March): At least I've stopped crying now and I've stopped feeling quite so sorry for myself.

January

January! What can I say?

But I filled you up,

Didn’t waste you away.

Concerts, plays, and trucks like monsters,

You brought on so many new adventures.

Tragedy struck too,

Reminding us not to waste our youth,

Taught us to remember

That life can be too short

Urged us to cherish

Our time here on Earth.

And now comes the month of Love!

Oh dreaded month, what horrors do you bring?

Is it of love and desire, or of heartache that I’ll sing?

Reminders

Reminders that life is too short happen too often and so unexpectedly.

Yesterday in the wee hours of the morning, a friend ran his truck off the road, through ditches, driveways, and yards, and into a tree. He was 29 years old and one of the most genuine and friendly people I've ever met. He was driven and determined, hard-working, the type of guy to give you the shirt off his back. And he always had a smile. I didn't know him very long and we weren't that close, much to my regret, but he was one of those people who, just by touching your life, gave you hope in the kindness in the world.

They think that alcohol was involved. It breaks my heart that such a great guy was lost on something that could have been prevented.

Please, I beg you, do not drink and drive. Do not think that you can handle it. All it takes is one. All it takes is your senses being even slightly impaired. The chance is too great, and even if you're okay risking your own life, please do not put others at risk.

My eyes are tired from crying. I'm at a loss. This was so unnecessary and senseless. Friends and family are hurting and grieving. Worlds have been turned upside down.

New Year

As 2012 came to its end,

A year full of pain, heartache, and strife,
I looked ahead and said “Amen!”
Hopeful of a new outlook on life.

Traditions

I read the article posted below today, and it got me thinking that this is kinda an awesome idea. There may be times, more often than I'd like to admit, when hearing things about military traditions and life leave me feeling a little sad. The last few years of my life have made me attuned to the hardships and the history and the everything that goes with military life, and it will always remind me of Matt. But the military is incredible, truly amazing. The sacrifices they make, the values they uphold (in theory)... it is inspiring. So when I read the article, I decided to do something like it for myself. Considering that Hanna thinks that I am more like Captain Kirk and she's Spock, I thought it was fitting. =P

 

Ships' logs start the new year in verse

(Some entries are great, others far worse)

Few among us can rival John Donne

But this is how it’s done every Jan. 1

 

 

As the Coast Guard cutter Haddock gently rocked on San Diego Bay late Monday, Chief Petty Officer William Hoffman tried to summon his inner William Butler Yeats.

“It’s been awhile,” he said of the last time he’d written a poem. “I’ll do my best.”

Sitting at a computer terminal, he typed the Jan. 1 entry in the log, the watch-by-watch report of the vessel’s status and activities:

As bells toll far and near striking in the New Year

The Mighty Cutter Haddock stands the watch at the Pier

Ready to respond to any threat toward this great country

Fighting for those who rest their beds all warm and comfy
 

This week, Hoffman and hundreds of other sailors performed one of the most charming customs of the Navy and Coast Guard. Aboard warships and cutters, the year’s first log entry is written in verse. This custom dates to at least 1937, notes the U.S. National Archives, where researchers pore over logs from World War II and the Vietnam War for historical insight — and the occasional flash of literary inspiration.

(http://www.utsandiego.com/news/2013/jan/01/military-vessels-new-years-rhyme-time/)