KristyWes

Stevie Nicks Has Nothing to Do With This

Fellow bloggers, do you ever reach a point where there is just so much you’re not saying on your blog, that you don’t quite know where/how to begin saying things again? I have a couple un-finished posts meant to tackle big issues, but they’re staying unfinished for the time being. And I had a somewhat pivotal weekend, with emotions and travel and people, but I’m not quite ready to tackle that either. And it wouldn’t make much sense anyways, perhaps, in light of all you don’t know about what preceded it (i.e. those dang unfinished posts).

Since it’s Friday, and since I have to start somewhere/somehow, and since I’ve seemingly jumped on society’s ADHD train and can’t be counted on for sustained concentration, here are some little random notas to tell you:

How I’ve been sitting very, very still all week to avoid moving my neck and experiencing that icky, gasping pain that is – well, the pain in my neck.

How I lost my driver’s license at O’Hare this weekend, but I’m totally fine about it because a) I don’t drive, and b) I lost it sometime after getting through security (whew), c) this kinda thing usually doesn’t happen to me, so the rarity makes it tolerable, and d) my license picture had me looking like a terrified refugee, circa 1890, so I wasn’t too pained to part with it. If I find a free 5 minutes in the next couple days, I’m going to meditate all over how losing my license is a plummy metaphor for losing my identity and how this plays so exactly into the theme of this past weekend. Yep.

How I can’t believe we’re Springing Forward this weekend, because didn’t we just Fall Back? And while I’ve been keen to notice the lengthening daylight each afternoon, I’m still real loath to let go of winter. Stay, cold, stay! I’m not done with you. Spring can wait.

How I may be sixty years late to the table, but I think Frank Lloyd Wright is real cool. At least, his work is cool. I hear the man behind the work was kind of a jerk, though. Bummer.

How I may be a hundred years late to the table, but I think Mark Twain is the shiz-bomb (as they say). If it’s possible to have a crush on a man who passed away in 1910, then consider me crushed.

How I have a paper to write this weekend, and more assigned reading than I care to admit to myself (denial just feels better), but nonetheless I am still quite-so-very happy that it is Friday. Here’s wishing peace and wholeness for your weekend ahead!