When Does Tragedy Arrive?

Have you ever wondered what life will be like after you're dead and gone?
Will the flowers be pretty, will it be the casket you want, where will you be laid to your permanent rest?
Who will come to your funeral, who will cry the hardest?
Have you ever thought that you wanted to be in control of your destiny, deciding yourself on the way you'd go out?
The diseases and ailments that people die from today are vast and varied.
There is no way to "die beautifully."
Ever thought, "If I run the car off the road, right here, into those trees, it will all be over and I won't have to worry about ______.  The roads are slick, it will look like an accident and no one will be mad at me for killing myself."
Suicide is pretty vain every way you look at it..
It's selfish and rebellious.
I've thought about suicide not as a means to an end, but thought about whose hearts I'd break if I did.
(This is not a suicide letter by any means, I'm not contimplating suicide at all.
A friend's daughter's friend's mother killed herself this weekend over money troubles.)
I have too much to live for and most of my reasons are pretty selfish.
Well, they all are.
Rachel's Reasons for Not Committing Suicide: I don't want an autopsy, I hate flowers, I'll miss seeing so-and-so's ugly baby grow up, I'll miss seeing so-and-so get married, I'll miss seeing so-and-so get divorced, I'll miss my own wedding, I'll miss my own babies, I'll miss Boots.
On and on and on.
I'm not going to do it.
I am going to chase this thought rabbit that runs through my brain though.
(Has anyone else notice that my thoughts do kind of just run around from one thing to another?)
I think that most of us live our lives in extended anticipatory grief stages, bouncing back and forth between them and sometimes even repeating.
When we're teenagers, we think we're never going to die and we live our lives with reckless abandon.
That's Denial.
When we're a little older than teenagers, we start to realize that everyone and everything must die.
Live can't continue forever.
That's Acceptance.
When we hear about someone less than forty years old having a stroke, almost wrecking the car, and killing her family, but being saved by her youngest ten year old son, and being diagnosed with a brain tumor, we wonder why things like this happen in the prime of someone's life.
That's Anger.
And possibily some Depression.
We realize that we don't usually get a say in what happens to us.
We realize that whatever it is is going to happen to us and most times it's out of our hands.
Acceptance again?
Depression maybe?
The bottom line is, we all have to die.
It will be ugly, either tragic or debilitating.
We will die horrifically or either peacefully after long battles with various illnesses.
We never know when it's coming for us, unless we plan it.
I don't recommend planning your death.
Too many things can go wrong when humans start playing God.
Just let it happen.
Hope for the best and live life the way you want to remember it.

So this week was my last first week back at school and I missed every day of it.
I only go to school two days a week; its part of the program I'm in. 
I take 14 hours of classes in 2 days and then I work 40 hours a week at my job.
I missed Wednesday because it was Boots' grandmother's funeral.
It was a very nice funeral.
Its so different attending a funeral rather than working one.
I don't know what to do really, so I spent most of my time watching Boots like he was going to run away and leave me!
I wasn't scared being around these people that I don't really but kinda know, I just wanted to be with Boots.
Hold his hand everywhere we walked.
And I just like looking at him.
Observing.
I like watching the way he walks and watching him laugh at jokes while he's talking to other people.
I'm missing school today, Thursday, because of the snow.
My school's in Mississippi and they are scheduled to receive 4 to 6 inches of snow today.
So no school.
And now its starting to snow here in Alabama.
Ugh.
I hate snow.
Why does it ever have to snow in the South?
If we wanted snow that bad, couldn't we go up North to experience it?
It only creates headaches down here.

New Quarters

I'm not talking about money.
Guess where I'm sleeping tonight.
At the fun house funeral home.
Guess why.
Read this next part really fast just for kicks.
Trust me, it sounds better inside your head that way.
And imagine the voice that's saying it is really southern.
K?
Here goes.
Cuz I got a horrible gas leak and I almost woke up at work instead of coming to work because last night before I went to bed I almost left the gas logs on and went to sleep but I got up to turn them off because I was afraid that the extra heat would catch my couch (lovely couch!) on fire and then burn our  house stupid apartment where 8 dogs live upstairs nice apartment down but instead I might have prevented us from dying in our sleep of carbon monoxide poisoning!
Whew!
Out of breath now.
And that's quite a string of prepositional phrases.
OK, fast story slower.
The roommate came home from work, smelled gas, called landlady, no answer.
Proceded to hunt down call maintenance man.
Maintenance man arrives, says, "Ya gotta gas leak!", procedes to shut off gas, pops back in his truck with his lady friend and speeds away.
OK.
Now what?
Roommate decides maybe still not safe to breathe there, packs up my dog and since I gotta be on call for the "Hotel California" tonight, I'm sleeping at work.
In the dorm.
On one of the old twin beds.
Excellent.
I don't mind sleeping here, but I'd rather be at home sleeping in my bed because I KNOW whose cooties are in that mattress--mine!
And I gotta get ready for school here in the morning.
And Boots' grandma died last night.
Which really sucks.
I never even knew the lady.
He cried.
Which was really sad but I can't wait to see him cry Wednesday at her funeral.
I want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze him and love on him.
Is that wrong that I'm eagerly anticipating seeing the boyfriend cry?
It just occurred to me that I might be a tad bit excited.
Geez Louise, what kind of sicko am I?
Oh!
Aaaaaaaaannnnnndddddd......I'm up to 9 followers!
Yay me!

NOEL

Last night was my church's Christmas cantata.
The theme was NOEL, Night of Everlasting Love.
Boots and I arrived about a minute late but that's ok, we didn't miss much of the director's speech.
The sanctuary was darkly lit with bright spot lights shining on the 37 members of the adult choir.
They all wore crisp, white, longsleeved shirts.
The men wore red bow ties and the ladies wore red scarves draped around their necks.
Even the preacher wore a red bow tie.
The colors were dramatic and fit the music and the season.
The narrator had the perfect speaking voice for telling parts of the Christmas story.
The "Hallelujah" chorus was so LOUD! --just like it ought to be.
Boots was so handsome in his khaki pants and red button-down shirt.
I wanted to climb in his lap and wrap my arms around his neck but I was afraid that was a little to hoochy inappropriate for church.
My favorite song they sang was "Holy Night"; it gave me chills.
And then, the youth minister's beautiful wife sat down in front of us with her little two month old baby and the show was over as far as I was concerned.
He stared at me with his dark alien eyes and had the cutest piggy nose and fat, starfish hands.
He never cried or fussed even though the music was loud and the clapping was even louder.
It wasn't quite the ovary-jumping moment that I hear so many thirty-somethings-getting-too-close-to-the-end people talking about but I couldn't concentrate on the songs after that.
Babies.
I want one but I can wait.
In the meantime, I've got bigger fish to fry.
Or catch.

Confession is good for the soul.
Especially when its to the one you love.

Me and Boots

Hair Cut!

Boots and I cut her hair.
Doesn't she look nice?

My Procrastination About My Birthday Post

Its been over a week since I've posted anything and I feel terribly guilty about that.
I don't know if anybody reads this or not but for some reason I feel as though I have an obligation to write the interesting things of my life and put them out there for the world to read.
(Holler if you read this!)
As you may know, or you may not know, I've been dating this super awesome guy I like to refer to as "Boots" for about six months now.
Boots is the greatest guy I've ever dated.
He's so well rounded and is right up my alley in every way.
He really went all out for my birthday last week.
It was amazing.
I was the most surprised I have ever been in my life.
I ain't even playin'.
******
The Birthday" started off quiet.
Went to bed late the night before, got up early that morning, cried my eyes out for a good 15 minutes (it always happens, I can never not cry on my birthday.
Except last year.
I should have cried watching the vet stick that electrode up the bulls' rear ends so that he could check out their sperms.
That was an experience I hope I don't ever have to repeat, especially on my birthday.), went back to sleep for a small nap, did some cleaning in my aunt's house, got a phone call from my uncle to "get dressed and ready to go flying", did the whole flying thing, it was a leeee-tle turbulant due to the weather and various airplane-y things such as that, but, whooooo what a rush!

Boots came to pick me up to take me back to his house because he cooked dinner for me for my birthday.
Gave my aunt and girl cousin a rose, gave my boy cousin a metal "to-scale" copy of his work vehicle, gave my uncle and The Marine an information sheet about where we were going and what we were doing which was absolutely hilariously ironic but I can't post that because it has some personal information on it.
I know you're confused but trust me when I say it was hilarious.
Drove me to his house.
I got distracted by a cloud that, to me, looked like a horse, some people say a poodle, and somebody else thought it was a rabbit.
What do you think?

He told me I had to wait outside for 3 minutes before I could come inside so I took that opportunity to snap a picture and make my dog pee all over the ground because she was so excited to see me.
(She stayed with him for a week, since I was at my aunt's and couldn't keep her with me.)
My 3 minutes is finally up and I get to go inside.
He makes me face him as he backs me into the house.
Its dark.
I can see candles lit as I look over his shoulder into the mirror above his couch.
Candles.
He's a candle freak.
I'm not surprised yet but this is cute.
Before he turns me around he gives this little speech, "Any Tom, Dick, and Harry can take you out to eat for your birthday but I wanted to cook for you and I wanted to make it special."
He turns me around and there's no better word to describe my reaction than shocked. Where there once was an ironing board and his detached bathroom door, there's a table.
A new table.
With two beautiful chairs.
The table is covered in a tan table cloth with crimson place mats, folded crimson linen napkins, new tan plates, new beautiful glasses (I love glass!), two tapered candles, and a rose in a vase.
The man bought a friggin' table for my birthday!
Talk about surprised!
I turn around and have the biggest smile on my face, I know.
I can't help it.
Nobody ever surprises me and this was the nicest thing anybody could have done for my birthday.
He guides/pushes me to my chair.
There's a card beside my plate and I read it while he fixes my plate and pours me a glass of tea.
The card is so sweet.
I love words and I've read it over and over many times since he gave it to me.
I think the card may have been my favorite thing of all.
We eat, in the dark, in the candle light and talk about all the normal things we always talk about.
After we finish eating we go outside to his designated fire area and sit and watch the fire burn and look at the stars.
After the fire dies down we go back inside and he gives me a present.
Wrapped in newspaper and secured with duck tape.
The present is an inside joke between us but its hilarious and I love it.
Then he pulls out another present.
More newspaper, more duck tape.
Love his mad wrapping skills!
I'm a sucker for things people do themselves, i.e. cooking dinner, writing me a card, wrapping things himself.
This present is a hard drive that I had mentioned I thought I needed.
This man listens to me!
He feeds me ice cream sitting on his couch watching TV.
When I say "feeds" I mean that literally.
Its kinda silly but kinda cute and now its sort of a thing we just do.
He takes me home to my aunts and for at least two days after that my feet don't touch the ground.
I'm floored.
Flabbergasted.
Blown away.
Swept off my feet.
Whatever you wanna call it.
I couldn't imagine a man doing something like this and being this sweet and romantic.
I certainly never expected it from Mr.-Tough-Guy Boots!
It was great.
The whole thing was just........great.
And to quote Forrest Gump, "That's about all I have to say about that."

"Stay on your side of the fence, once you decide where that is."

---AG

Smooth

Went out to eat.
Spilled Boots' drink on myself.
Smooth.
Real smooth.

"Its Very Hard to Surprise Me"

Those will be my famous last words.
Don't ever tell a man that has "Determined" as his middle name that you can't be surprised.
Because you will get sent home early from work.
And you're not very observant.
And when you take your dog out to pee, he will stick his tongue out at you.
You will do a double take.
Then your face will erupt in a big smile because you haven't seen him in over a week.
That is exactly what happened.
I was surprised.

This is Going to Hurt

I really like Boots.
Really, really like Boots.
I like where this is going.