my pink life, mi vida rosada

I did things my way, in the middle of a group trip. It felt good. Like I'm a grown up. I know, it's ridiculous....but at 31 I finally feel like it is ok for me to say, "I'm too tired for this activity; I'm going to bed." And no one complained. I mean, I get up at 5:30 every morning. It's not unreasonable for me to be tired and ready to sleep around 9:00. I wanted to skip the fire? I skipped it. I wanted to skip the silly games? i skipped them. I wanted to skip the ball game? I skipped it. There was too much other fun to be had. Like, naptime fun. Or sitting in the sun, fun. Or swimming in the lake fun. Or running the trail around the lake fun. Or adventures finding walmart fun. It was a great trip. Lots of fun spent hanging out with the college students. Lots of fun singing praises to God. Lots of fun eating and eating and eating. Lots of fun talking about what it means to be an outsider, and how we are called to this li...

Life lately has been a little bit sad. Ok, a lotta bit sad. My travel buddy's dad passed away on my second day of school, so I quickly made arrangements for an awesome substitute teacher and a last minute flight and was able to spend the day before the memorial service and the day of the memorial service with my travel buddy, her mom, her brother, and her sister. Although it was hard for me to make the decision to leave my classroom and my new group of students so early in the school year, and for three whole days (the most I've ever taken in a row!), I have no doubt that it was the right thing for me to do. When I got back to the airport, my mama told me to run, go hug David, because he was picking up his daughter to take her to the hospital to see her mama, Sister, who, after three long years of awful, awful bone cancer that had spread to lots of other places, had a heart attack in the hospital. I hugged his neck, told him I love him (he's been my boyfriend all m...

The word of the week at The Gypsy Mama is "Graceful". She stands, poised, a half smile on her face. She can't believe that so many people have come, so many people have told her the things she already knew. She shakes hands, embraces, offers to explain the pictures at the front of the room. "He told me the world needs more artists." "The smartest person I know always wanted to emulate him." "He was so giving." "Chicken is famous at the office." She recounts the story of the last day, of him mouthing to her that she is a beautiful person, her telling him the same, blowing kisses to each other to the very end. She tears up briefly, but continues speaking. She is unsure whether heaven exists, where souls go when the body fails. She is disbelieving that he will not be there any more, will not request her used ink cartridges, will not ask her each time he sees her if she is ok financially, will not hold court at the ...