Niel's Ode to One Year

Look what my Nela girl wrote for my One Year Celebration of No Smoking!

A year can be an eternity
A year can be a flash
New lives have been opened
Old lives have been passed
The journey is marked with pain and tears
But laughter and joy as well
You soldier on with a brave heart and smile
Wondering what time will tell
Love was kissed gently
And painfully let go
Your soul begin its new emergence
To the freedom it should know
A year of independence
A year of screaming out loud
But at the end of all of it -
at the very end of all of it -
it's your year to be most proud.

Niel, you will never know how deeply you touched my heart. I don't think anyone has ever written a poem for me before, and I certainly was not expecting such a beautiful gift on that day. You treated my One Year just like the High Holiday I felt it was. Thank you.


And, Niel?
Look at the flowers Darin sent. Sent them to me at work.

He thought it was important, too. Amazing.







Friends and family alike: Look at how happy and healthy and wonderful my children look One Year after turning their life on it's head by something so silly as quitting smoking! A day that changed EVERYTHING for them. And for me.
I am so glad I made that decision.
It was the right one.

Gettin' Crazy Wid Da Postin'

E, the new Sax player for P-nuckle. Soooo good. We saw them last week at the Oriental with Pepper. Also soooo good.

Two postings. Within twelve hours of each other. What??!

I thought alot about what I wrote last night...it sounded to me like I was relying on someone else to make me feel good about myself. And that is not the case. My only feeling was that I want all of my intense emotions to be reciprocated. (I am a princess, dammit!)

And I don't feel like they are. And that makes me feel like a fool. And more than ANYTHING, I don't want to be a fool. (Clearly princesses are not supposed to feel like fools.)

I don't know whether to jump and run, sit and wait, yell and scream, or smile and ignore.

Again - is this a common feeling?

My tummy hurts.

Grading Metaphorical Dives

Criminy. It is my pattern. It is how I roll.

I get to running so fast, so beautifully, just screeeeeamin' right along - and then I trip. And land flat on my face.

It is getting harder to pick myself up these days...partly because I only have myself to fight, so I can't use my ex as motivation for locomotion. HA! He was really good for that, wasn't he?

Does everyone have to give themselves pep talks? Is this normal? Do YOU have to tell yourself you are alright? That things will work out just the way they are supposed to?

I won't be musing anymore tonight, don't worry.

But I will tell you one thing: there is someone out there who is as big of a fan of me as I have to pretend to be of myself. And he will be so proud of me. And proud to be with me.

...I gotta wipe the mud outa my eyes from my latest digger so I can see him.