Are we so spoiled or deficient that we can't handle stress or disappointment without using lethal methods?  Where has all our upbringing and instuction gone?  If someone ticks you off, grab a gun and kill him or molest or sexually assault them.  Can't get what you want or aren't part of the 'in-crowd'?  Takes some guns and show them how important you are. Teach them to dis you!

 

Now I admit, I grew up in the midwest in a small area that didn't even call itself a town.  I lived in a safe area where we didn't worry about crime.  Shoot, we slept on the porch on hot nights and never bothered to lock the doors.  Everyone knew everyone else and you didn't misbehave because every mother on the block would not only catch you, but also call your mother.  You'd get it from her, too, when you got home.  We were raised by the village long before it became a catch phrase for a book.

 

What I can't understand is that these people who have forced themselves into our consciousness with their crimes have lived in our midst all their lives.  People around them have said they were strange ducks.  Where did the system fail to catch them?  If everyone knew they were out there, why is it the proper authorities weren't notified?  In the latest episode where the boy killed the principal, he told others the principal would never make it to homecoming.  He said he would do something like this, but no one sounded the alarm.  What are we so afraid of?  Why don't we want to put ourselves out there to prevent this travesty from happening?  Are we programming our own demise by turning away?

 

 

 

A good friend and I spent time today on the computer laughing at some silliness.  We were playing around with AIM and the Expressions.  I'd never seen it before as I usually use Messenger.  We got to playing with the buddies and I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard!  Just simple laughter and it changed my whole day.  I laughed so long and so hard that my face hurts.

 

I remember one other time I got silly with friends.  We'd gone to a convention together and we were following a friend's car.  Or at least we 'thought' we were following them.  It was dark and I'd never been in that town before so I was praying she knew where she was going.  Our hotel was outside of town a bit and it was so dark so basically I was following her tail lights.  She suddenly pulls off into a parking lot and I follow right along behind her. 

 

Well, it wasn't my girlfriend at all.  It was four tall, young, and good looking college boys!  I could hardly see as I quickly turned around and headed back the way I came.  We were laughing so hard that when we stopped at a stop light, the people in the next car looked at us strange.  The driver even locked his door!  That only made the laughter worse.

 

We get back to the hotel (finally).  As we're trying to climb the steps, we're having to sit down halfway up because we're laughing so hard.  The people in the lobby are looking at us like we've had too much to drink.  We finally make it back up to our rooms and the rest of the gang.  Telling what happened to us did not make it any easier to stop.

 

The whole thing that made it so funny was that I was the yougest one there at 39, and the rest of them were at least 60 and one was in her 80s.!  Here we were...chasing a carload of college boys!  I've always wondered what those young men thought about that carload of crazy ladies that was following them.

 

Today's memories are just as good.  Thank you Friend!

 

 

The other day I ran into one of the tenants from the complex I managed.  She hadn't been feeling very well, but managed to get out and do some errands that day.  She filled me in on all the news since she'd seen me last.

 

So many changes.  Too many changes.  The complex was for seniors and I had 74 apartments.  While I've kept in touch regularly, this last round of news was almost shocking.  So many had passed away or had life altering situations.  Even now I'm thinking I should have gone over more often.  In the next moment, I'm remembering some of those telling me that now is the moment to move on, never wait to do something because you may never get the chance otherwise.  They lived what they taught.  I am so grateful for having them in my life.

 

Two of them enjoyed my writing.  They were always asking me if I had anything new.  Too many times I had to tell them I didn't.  They loved the stories most of all and the poems I wrote for them about the building and the tenants.  I'm hoping that by remembering them it will provide a catalyst to get me writing again.

 

I really miss working there, but at least now I can talk to them without having to watch over my shoulder!

 

For a couple of years now I've just been here, letting things move around me.  I don't feel as though I've participated in my life much.  Things have happened and all I've done is move out of the way before something ran over me.  Sometimes I think I didn't move fast enough.

 

I've been sitting here tonight wondering where the time has gone.  I'm at that stage in my life where I should have something to show for everything I've been through.  What I see though is a worn out body and a lot of discontent with my life.  I'm not sure where I should be, but I'm sure it's not here.

 

How does one change where they're headed?  Especially when you've been headed this way for so long.  For a couple of years I was so content just writing and going to school but that ended when I moved and finished college.  I took a job I probably shouldn't have but yet, made so many friends that I couldn't leave.  I know, no one should base whether they stay somewhere on having made friends.  It was the dream job...except for the boss.  Never stay where the boss is not happy in her life because soon you will be too.

 

I have to find my joy again.  After almost 5 years of the job, I've somehow lost my joy.  I haven't written anything worth while in so long.  I miss the countryside, the creatures that entertained me, and the open skies that relaxed me.  I miss just listening to the world around me and having the time to think about what I'm hearing.  I miss the excitement of putting words to paper and never knowing what it's goning to be until I'm done.  I have to find my creativity again.  But how do I do that?

 

I am going to try to write something every night.  Sometimes the best way to get back into the habit of writing is just doing it.  Kind of like eating that elephant, one bite at a time.  You only choke if you bite off too big a bite at once, right?

 

Stay tuned, I may be back!