Between Poets and Pirates...

The problem with love songs is, there are so many of them. And I swear they only play on rainy days when I'm traveling the same brain-dead stretch of 90 miles I could do in my sleep. This leaves me nothing but time to listen to the radio and thinks about the lyrics.

Maybe I should be fair and clarify I mostly listen to country music and they and the ones with rainy-day-love-song Sundays. I heard "Better as a Memory" from Kenny Chesney's Poets and Pirates album and I swear the sky got a little bit darker and the rain fell softer.

But I suppose the upside is that even sadness can be beautiful.

And really, if my sadness was that beautiful, I'd be okay with having my heart broken.
Which is not to say my heart was broken this weekend, it's just a long drive down a long freeway filled with seven years of memories. And I suppose somewhere along the way, I'd find something that makes me sad. But like I said, if you can make it beautiful, you can make it okay.

I suppose the fact that my heart is capable of breaking shows I haven't forgotten what it means to love. And that still counts for something, right?

I saw lightning last night. that made me cry.
I can tell you the exact day I last saw lightning in these parts. I know exactly what I was doing, exactly where I was going and it made me cry then too. Some things in life are just too beautiful to conjure apathetic reactions.

After seven long years, I've decided to try really hard to learn to become friends with the rain. It's definitely not easy, but we were at peace this morning. And the drive home still had beauty.

*sigh*

I'm all.... flustery

dammit.


I found a worry stone on ym desk tonight. I got it when I was probably about 12 years old. I found the chunk of rose quartz in one of those "educational toys for children" stores my mom always loved so much. I used to be really into gemstones. I remember getting the rose quartz in particular because it was supposed to symbolize love.

I've never once been able to find it when I've been worried.

However, it seems to randomly appear at the most unusual times... Like now. When I'm all flustery.

And I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I could just figure out what the hell happened that made me suddenly burst into giggles. I spent the earlier part of the evening hanging out with my friends who work at the tattoo shop and now I'm at home giggling over absolutely nothing.

I blame these stupid movies with their predictably happy endings.

Michael Jackson's memorial was today. My mom says he might some day be more famous than Elvis.

I don't care what she says, he'll always be the reigning king. ;)