So It's Valentine's Day ...

....or some such silliness.

It's so divisive this "holiday".

It's a holiday made up by greeting card companies.


It's pagan in nature.


It's made to guilt me into telling my lover/spouse/significant other how much I love him/her -- as if he/she doesn't ALREADY know this every OTHER day of the year!

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I don't expect anything from My Husband for Valentine's Day.  If he chooses to get something for me, I'm not going to turn it away, but I never expect anything.  I guess that's because I don't totally subscribe to the notion that Valentine's Day is strictly for luvahs.

Back when I was in my teens and twenties, I seem to recall that the emphasis was primarily between me and whomever I might be dating.  I would get chocolates, stuffed animals, roses, the usual fare.  I was flattered but it never felt like "love".

At this age, I still like to get chocolates and flowers, but not because Cupid is poking around on February 14th. I'd like to get them for un-Valentine's Day. Also, the toys I'd like to get have an ENTIRELY different context! *wink*

More than anything, on Valentine's Day, I like to get words and affection. I like the laughter of My Girls, the time playing games. I love a good poem, holding hands, and maybe the extra effort of taking me to lunch when ordinarily it wouldn't happen.

No cards.
No candy.
No little teddy bears.

Just love me in a special Jackie way.

Under the Weather

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  All you northerners and all you mountain folk are way out of Texas's league.  This I know.  But I'm here to tell you that I survived THE GREAT WINTER STORM OF 2010.  How many of YOU can say that?!  (Oh.  Well.  Um.  You folks in the D.C. area, just neveryoumind!) 

In Dallas, Texas, we shattered a record snowfall, officially now 12.5 inches.  (Quit laughing, Canada, Alaska, Wyoming, Antarctica)  This snow was the biggest deal in the history of history.  Lots of broke trees, dumb drivers, school closings, work delays, some power outages and hundreds of sloppy snowmen later, Dallas is melting.  Now we can get back to our shopping, golfing, plastic surgery, and contributing to the downfall of man (football's over, so, what else is there to do?).

(pictures taken by yours truly 2/2010)

Go Team U.S.A.!

I like winter olympics more than summer olympics.  My favorite events are: Slalom, Grand Slalom, Luge, Bobsleigh (Bobsled), HOCKEY (duh), Skeleton, Speedskating, Curling and Ski Jumping.  You know -- all the ones I can't do and happen to fear.  hahahaha.

Truth be told, I admire the speed and agility these athletes possess and operate in their specialized event.  I wish I was that good with my body  - that fit and dedicated.  I'm doing well to sweep my floors once a week let alone do that sweeping for the curling team!

My patriotic self is rooting for my country.  My humanitarian self is rooting for the whole world. 

In Which Stagnation Is Not Still

...because in both of us there's always movement, renewal, surprises. I have never known stagnation. Not even introspection has been a still experience... ~Anais Nin

If you know me, even in the slightest, you know this accurately describes me.  Just had to put it in writing so I don't feel so crazy...or alone.  It's comforting to know that someone else in history has felt this way, too.  While it's verysoawesome to be this way, it's also quite exhausting.  I trust there is some truth in this statement about you, too.

Happy Almost Valentine's Day...
xo

Bleeding Heart

...because in both of us there's always movement, renewal, surprises. I have never known stagnation. Not even introspection has been a still experience... ~Anais Nin


These words have been knocking on the door.  Well, more truthfully, pounding their fists, the door being pierced by blades of screams, desperate, panicked begging for release.

I have been undergoing some SERIOUSLY INTENSE soul searching.  It's painful -- very, so very painful.  And because I cling so tightly to pain = growth and that good comes from bad, I grit my teeth, squint my eyes, clench my fists and work through it.  I suffer and grief.

I cannot remember a time in life when I have felt more uncomfortable.

I ache on multiple levels and for a myriad of reasons.  I ache for contradictory ideals.  I long for opposing reasons of being.  Mostly I want to be in solitude for an extended period of time, at a beach with the wind caressing my body, the occasional sting of my hair slapping against my cheek per whip of the wind.  I can feel my toes in the moist sand as I sit and look into The Great Beyond. 

I clearly am confused.
I clearly do not know what I want.
Those are the only clear things in my life right now.

The Next Best Thing....Maybe?

I went to a Mardi Gras party last night, hosted as a corporate event.  It was held in downtown Las Colinas, which holds a special spot in my heart.  Las Colinas is where I lived when I first moved to the Meteroplex (term coined by Gordon Keith).  Whenever I go there, I wish I lived there again.  

But I digress....

I've had The Real Mardi Gras on my (what's now more commercially known as) Bucket List.  I've always thought it'd be wayway fun to go to NOLA and party it up hedonistically (do I even know HOW to do that?!).  I haven't made it there yet, and I'm probably not going to get there any time soon...so, last night might be the next best thing to it.  

I was dressed in shimmery red, a long flowing dress with spaghetti straps and a shoulder wrap.  I sprinkled red and silver glitter on my arms, neck, chest and shoulders.  I added dramatic makeup and pinned part of my hair back so that I could stylishly wear my mask -- Un Masque de Papillon.  I wore a gold and silver colored butterfly mask, feeling very fluttery and dainty.

My mind bunny-trailed to that movie "Eyes Wide Shut".  It might've been cool to actually walk into a party like that.

Later that evening, I took a puff of a cigar.  I have no idea what kind of cigar it was.  All I know is that it cost $7 and it leaves a killer taste in my mouth!  WOW! 

Overall, the music was great, the creme brûlée was sinful and I had a great time!

Bring on the real Mardi Gras!

Penny in My Pants

When My Dad died, My Mom shared with me a little ditty and an accompanying custom they shared.  I am going to share it with you in words, and if you choose to exercise it in your own way, well, I think My Dad would be flattered.

My Dad told My Mom that after he passes away, whenever she sees a penny, to pick it up and know that it's him sending her a message that he's thinking about her from Heaven.

Sweet, huh?

So, since My Mom told me this story, I've adopted it. 

On my wedding day, I found a penny in the Bride's Room. 

When My Little One was born, I found a penny on the floor of my hospital room the day we were discharged.

After closing on my first house, I arrived full of pride, walking toward the door a penny sparkled in the dampness of the walkway.

There have been a few occasions of his birthday, Veteran's Day, or the anniversary of his death date that I've spotted a penny and smiled, or cried, or closed my eyes and exhaled.

Today, I was in a little car accident.  A woman didn't notice that I was at a stop drove right into the back of my leased car.  *cringe*  My Little One and I are fine, no injuries.  The driver who hit us is also fine.  It all worked out well and we are all safe.

After leaving to return to work, I cleaned up the spilled change, the flung pens and bags, returning everything neatly into their respective places. 

This is also the day that my department went out to lunch as a group to the Twisted Root (yum! still!) to belatedly celebrate those of us who have January birthdays (ahem!).  In a hurried pace toward the elevator office, I am swinging my shiny black coat around from one shoulder to the other when something glistening on my pant leg catches my eye.

I stop dead in my tracks, eyes fixated on this copper beaming from the cuff of my black capris.

I bend over and open the cuff.  Lo and behold....

....a penny in my pants!

I pulled it out and held it between my thumb and index finger for a few moments, feeling the details of Abraham on one side, the institution on the other.  I noticed the year printed on it is 2008.  All that noticing in a flash of a second, somehow swimming in the the comfort that My Dad was with me.  He protected me in the accident this morning and reminded me that he loves me, he's still with me and he wishes me a happy birthday.

A Little Something On Which To Hold

Everyone needs it.  Everyone needs something to embrace, to cuddle, to latch on to -- right? It's not the same for everyone.  Individually, throughout life, what we hold on to changes.  As a baby, we are held, but we still hold onto strands of hair, clutching onto mommy's collar or daddy's finger, a bottle, pacifier.  As a child, maybe we needed our teddy bear or a security blanket.  As adults, we cling to one another, spooning; or, if you're like me, I wrap my body around a pillow.  My Husband calls it 'building your nest'.  I have four pillows that I arrange in a certain way and that arrangement allows me to sleep well.

My Daughters are no exception.

Since My Eldest was a littlelittle baby, she's played with locks of hair.  It started out as my hair.  One of my very favorite things in the world is when someone plays with my hair.  I find it so relaxing, so intimate.  It is very special to me.  As My Eldest has grown, so has her hair, which means so has her need.  She's gone through sleeping with stuffed animals, and occasionally still does.  But one thing for sure is that she's ALWAYS played with hair when going to sleep.  She now will run her sweet fingers through her soft brown hair.  Last night, I captured her....

Sometimes it makes me sad.  Sometimes, I wish she would still play with MY hair like that.  I miss that closeness to her, even though there are new ways we are close.  I treasure that she still practices the hair dance as she is falling asleep to the soundtrack to High School Musical or the Jonas Brothers. 

After I took her picture, I went to kiss My Little One good night.  (I got home too late to tuck them in bed, so needed to go kiss them goodnight properly.)  Sure enough, My Little One was clutching something, too.  No, not her hair (although she's kind of started playing with her own hair).  She has been fluttering about the house in her different dance outfits.  She loves to primp and dress up, putting on make up, then performing for us. 

I have some red and silver bangles.  She took them to bed with her....

I love my daughters.
I love their needs.
I love that I am their mom.

Off to bed....to clutch my pillows.  :)  Nite-Nite.