Heart Break...

I would like to be able to write this in some eloquent fashion, but the truth is....
Being heart broken SUCKS!!!!

It just sucks, there is no other word for it. It sucks the energy from you, it sucks away your appetite, and it just plain sucks. But what I'd like to know, is why, when heart break arrives, does it make you do ridiculously foolish things?

Take for example my past two weeks. After having my heart stomped on...(this may be a bit of an exaggeration)... I have begun doing things that are out of my character. One, went on a few dates within the past two weeks, thinking it would make me feel better, and all it did was make me think.... "where do these men come from." The day after being heart broken, I was on a band wagon of becoming the person I want to be (or think I am, or am, I don't know), so I finally submitted my picture book to four publishers. This was a good thing, but now I am in the long waiting process of possibly not hearing for not only the boy that broke my heart, but also the publishing houses that may or may not read my writing. I hate waiting. I'm not patient (as I have said once, or twice, or maybe three times before).

Being heart broken has also made me feel as though I need to be continually active. As such, I had a night of drinking and singing to the tree that resides in my front yard. I at least recognized it wouldn't sing back (I mean it is a tree people), but none the less, it made me feel a bit better to be out of myself and releasing all my vocal cries to an object that couldn't talk back, but could only listen. I can't rest and as such, instead of punching the walls around me, I decided ripping out the carpet in my bedroom was a better option. This, though, has left me with 3/4 of a hard wood floor (that needs repair) and a 1/4 of remaining disgusting carpet on the floor because I'm too tired to take the rest out.

Being heart broken makes you take long walks listening to your iPod and singing at the top of your lungs not caring who hears. It makes you recognize how many couples are out there, how many love songs are on the radio, love stories on T.V., in the movies, and that love never really is like that in real life.

But most importantly, being heart broken makes you think about all the good times you had, and how you were willing to open up, and how you want to have that feeling again.

The floor will be repaired, the drinking and signing to trees will stop, maybe I will hear back from the publishers--that would be cool--and you know what, if I keep dating maybe I'll be able to open up again and do this all over again. (Though next time, I'll have to find a different rug to tear apart).

So again I will say, "Being heart broke sucks."

Doors

I have always been fascinated with doors. They are one of those things that for some reason inspire me. I continually think, "what adventure awaits behind that door?" All you have to do is turn a handle, push or pull a latch, and presto a new image is before you.

As of late, I have been trying to open the figurative doors around me. Some have opened easily, some have slammed in my face, others have been locked and I'm awaiting their key, and a few I have snuck through. The point is: I'm fascinated with doors and want to experience as many adventures as I can.

Internet you Stalk me!!!!!

Last night, I came home from a wonderful celebration and began doing my thing on the Internet. You know the usual, checking Facebook, banking stuff, examining stats and such, only to find that a high number of people seemed to have viewed my blogs.

Typically, I would not find this strange, but as I haven't posted anything for some time it was a bit peculiar. Adding to this, someone posted a comment with a link that they thought someone was looking for me.

Someone was an understatement. Multiple people were on my track for a day. Apparently, the Internet stalking all began with this lovely image here. A person--I seem to not know--posted the image/story above (on Imgur) and asked for help to find this girl (who it seems the Internet world decided was me). What followed was massive posting on the internet last night. 730 comments later on Reddit, and apparently I was considered found (I must say, I didn't realize I was lost to begin with).

At first, I found this a bit creepy. Then I thought about it, and realized, "Hey, it's an Internet world out there, you better get used to it, and figure out how to use this technology before you get left behind." Adding to that, I kind of find the whole thing intriguing. As a folklorist, the whole exchange of communication between people who don't know each other, possibly, is... well... mind boggling. Furthermore, how cute is it that a guy posts an image/story to find a girl. (Yes, I'm a romantic at heart. It's a curse and a blessing).

As to the Internet Stalkers who found me through Facebook. As far as I know, I have never been in ChatRoulette (if that is a web site), I could envision myself trying on mustache disguises for fun (but have not done so as of late), and I only know relatives in North Carolina--and lets face it, that would just be wrong. So in the end, I hope you had fun reading a few posts on your way to finding a girl that was never lost to begin with.

Oh Maxine

Last year I had the blessing, and luxury, to meet one of the most amazing women. When I met her, Maxine was 98 years old, strong, out spoken, and willing to share her laughter and story with me. I find it a connecting force when the barrier of age can be broken by listening. Maxine's story had its trials and tribulations, but she always focused on the good in life (wether it be the birds out her window, her caring neighbors, family, or Jazz basketball) and what she could do with her life. And she did many things. It was an honor to listen to her tell tales of growing up in a time when women didn't have the rights granted to us today. To hear how she helped mold education in this state. It was eye opening to my own life to hear how this women took life by the horns and did what she wanted to do (PhD at age 65). And it was warming to know that instead of focusing on all the hardships, in her later years she really wanted to talk about all the fun and the people that had been so kind to her.

I hope I find my perseverance and attitude as heartfelt and open as hers was.

Yesterday, I received notice Maxine passed away, almost one month before her 100th birthday. Today I find my thoughts on the time we were able to share together sitting on her couch in her living room looking out that big window, her story, and her personality, her smile, and how quickly a person can touch your heart. I hope she has grown wings, taken flight, and is now back with her parents, husbands, and son. To her I say, "Thanks for sharing your story."