my new love...

the paint sprayer

Brett Dennen...you did it again

Beyond the rules of religion

The cloth of conviction
Above all the competition
Where fact and fiction meet

There`s no color lines or casts or classes
There is no fooling the masses
Whatever faith you practice
Whatever you believe

Heaven. heaven.
What the hell is heaven?
Is there a home for the homeless?
Is there hope for the hopeless?

Throw away your myth misconceptions
There ain`t no walls around heaven
There are no codes you gotta know to get in
No minutemen or border patrol

You must lose all earthly possession
Leave behind your weapon
You cannot buy your salvation
There is no pot of gold

Heaven ain`t got no prisons
No government no business
No banks or politicians
No armies and no police

Castles and cathedrals crumble
Pyramids and pipelines tumble
The failure keeps you humble
Leads us closer to peace

On our way home…

We drove 2 hours and I worked the entire way.

We helped over 50 Vietnamese complete applications.

We answered every single question.

I ordered a kids meal from Checkers, so I wouldn’t feel so guilty for eating fast food.

Everyone talked in the van, and I took my post in my “office” on the back seat just like every night before.

Exhaustion is not an option for any of us; we just have to keep going.

I can’t remember the last time I had a “girl’s night” or slept in on Saturday.

I didn’t look up from emails but I knew we had exited on College Drive from the Orange glow of the Hooters sign.

Suddenly we hit something hard, and I looked up as gasps filled the van and two or three “what was that’s?”

I turned instantly; behind us in the right lane of the road was a cat half crawling-half walking and its tail flailing violently.

I yelled at our driver to stop or turn around. I threw off my heels and dug in my purse for my gun, but it wasn’t there. I couldn’t remember if it was in my car or on my nightstand.

I was furious that not only was I without it, but I couldn’t force myself to remember where it was.

The van came to a stop and I told everyone not to look.

I ran. In familiar form, my weeks without running body began a slow sprint as I ran hard enough to get there but slow enough to leap over mud and water that would cause my bare feet to slip on the concrete sidewalk.

My breathing pattern set and I knew I had run about 300 yards before I reached it.

Still awake, eyes glassing over and making desperate attempts to move; I picked up the warm and flailing animal in its last moments of life.

I jogged along the fence line of the school, still not knowing what I was going to do, but knowing what I had to.

One hunk lay broken off from the overflow of concrete around a fence post and I reached for it wincing at what I was about to do.

“The quickest way…the quickest way…” I forced myself to process.

I covered his face and stretched his head gently away from his legs, lengthening his neck as much as possible.

Only one blow and I made it count because I knew I could never take a second.

I began to pray as the breath left his body and I cried.

I stood and felt a wave of nausea as I turned and fell into full sprint back to the van.

I flung the door open to four heads facing downward and said, “Let’s go, I don’t want to talk about it.”

I shook the entire ride home.

I could barely see the road when I began driving my own car home and kept trying to blink the blur away.

I cried.

I cried into Belle, in my bed, in my bath water.

It has been two days and I am still telling myself that it is okay to feel horrible, broken and even “wrong” when doing “the right thing.”

Cameron Parish behind me...

I am 104 miles away and the ride is dragging on,
The condensation rolling down from icy windows in a van that is too warm.
I am on the back seat like when I was young and "cool."
On the bus with cliques and couples riding home from public school.

The bumpy road and jarring teeth bring a familiar pain into my head,
and I'm wide awake in exhaustion as every other sleeps deeply in their temporary makeshift bed.
We have traveled across the entire state, in circles several times,
and yet we still have five or more before we've covered the "below I-10" line.

Guidelines, questions, Programs, exceptions my mind is racing still;
and I know that this speed will stick, as I'm only half way up the hill.

I'm learning-living, giving all that I have the power to give,
but I am growing weary; and life on fumes is no way to live.

A Case of the...Thursdays?

I am drinking diet dr. pepper. i hate diet drinks.
I am choosing paint colors for my new office, but nothing matches the only wall in the department that i like...that was JUST painted, but apparently by a phantom paint swatch.
I have post it notes on top of post it notes and am only 1/3 through on most of the projects on my desk.
I need to go to the supply store, but i am too busy.
I need to eat, but the canned soup in my desk is encouragement enough for me to just skip a meal.
i just got really excited to eat a homeade macadamian nut cookie that i have been saving, the first bite made me gag. I didnt know cookies could taste so terrible.

Room 248

My office is half the size.

The hall is PINK.

I can’t look out of my fourth floor window and see the sun bathers across the street; I’m now just eyelevel with their privacy fence.

It seems to be 80 degrees in every corner of my office.

I now share a restroom with 68 women instead of 12.

I no longer have a mini fridge or access to a clean-keyword…CLEAN, microwave.

I can’t remember what room number my office is.

I got beautiful flowers…but not from a boy.

I still have the same frumpy blue chair that smells a little funny.

I had to clean out a closet of ancient office artifacts and it took two days.

I have no connection to my color printer.

There is always chatter, talking, passing and whispering-quite a stretch from the
silent halls of the ivory tower I was used to.

I don’t have mirror behind my door.

I don’t know when my boss is in because he is now 40 plus steps or a 2 minute elevator ride away instead of 5 yards.

Of the 6 days spent in my new “lair,” my boss has not ventured inside the door once.

To end my vent…I spent 2 days in a conference room with my iphone, a post it note
pad and my book Wicked, went without my computer for 4, spent 2 days cleaning and nursing my moving dust induced sinus attack and now, here I sit-knowing little more than about 6 people’s names on the floor. The way I see it, it can only get better.

Happy Wednesday

So my day started at 5 am...I awoke to "EA Sports...It's in the game!" Apparently my tenant enjoys early morning Madden. Belle brought me a little mouse I bought her yesterday that she is pretty proud of. I tried to pretend that my sister telling me she was pregnant was a dream-but it wasn't. I wanted to stay home and clean, buy more things to mail my nephews for school, paint my mud room...anything-but come to work. But, as most of my inner circle knows...I dont have that option. So, I cried. I thought about how I was looking forward to school for the first time in my life. I looked over at my new 50 inch plasma and thought about how much fun my Sex In The City Marathon will be with the girls this week and still...it was not enough to make me excited to come to work.
Before i knew it, it was after 7 and I had 30 minutes to get ready. I did the "speed of light shower" thing that I have become so accustomed to and threw on a polo dress-my old standby-for the second day in a row.
I recieved 58 emails last night and 7 text messages-I chose to ignore them all until I arrived at work. The real coke and Oatmeal Cream pie for breakfast helped for about five minutes until I calculated the calories. (I have gained six pounds btw.)
But, I am here and smiling my usual smile, excercising my usual wit to the usual suspects counting down until I, very unusually...get to leave for lunch.

My back up plan

So, I was thinking, if it ever gets "that bad," I could always become a game warden. I'm pretty sure they don't make that much but seriously-I already carry a gun, basically live outside, can recite the R.S. numbers of every hunting, fishing and licensing regulation and the penalties associated with them. Maybe its not too late...

The Big Move is Official...