once upon a thursday

Today has truly been a summer day. No working (even though it was planned). Early morning coffee with a new dear friend, tattoo touchups, afternoon coffee with a friend, a two in the afternoon 3D movie, a monsoon of a rainstorm, a hot hair cut, a delightful walk with the dogs, and back to the coffee shop to show of the brighter tats, great hair, new mermaid belt, a super tight black tank top, and two cock rings (worn as bracelets—yep in that kinda mood) and maybe even do a little work on the next book—we’ll see how the night goes.

I have a ton to be thankful for today. While working with pictures of Gavin last night, trying to move them to a disk for his daddy (who is my little brother—how strange is that!), all my photos on my Aperture 2 program disappeared. This included the photo book that I have easily spent twenty hours on this year. Every time an event happens, I add a spread and make comments. Therefore, the first few months of the year that Chad and I were together were all laid out with sweet and memorable comments made at the time—that I didn’t want to loose; also pages and comments from the time since that, documenting were I was—physically and emotionally. I was sick. They disappeared before my eyes and though I tried everything I could think of, they were gone. I couldn’t even cry—it was too much. It was just one more kick in the face—like I couldn’t even keep the few good moments I had left with him this year. Today, I called the Apple help, and after a long lecture of how I need to read such and such and do some computer something another, the man fixed it by having me hit two different keys at the same time. All the pictures (and the book) flashed back on the screen. I did get a little teary. I was so happy and thankful.

I was intending on ranting (in a very fun and sarcastic way) about how the ridiculous people around me today have been. . . well. . . ridiculous. Women drivers (not all, straighten your panties out, but two that for sure fit the stereotype today and yelled at everyone else as they did so), too serious people that can’t get their heads out of their asses to know that if they could just laugh along with the rest of us that they wouldn’t be the ones getting laughed at, too sensitive people (I know, I know—I’m a black pot) who are looking to be offended, and overly loud/overly gay twinks screaming across from me in the coffee shop. It would have been a very fun and enjoyable blog. However, I will end with this little ditty.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to hold on to the memories and photos that I have. I thank you again for the goodness and joy you allowed me to experience, no matter how it crashed around me. If the pain I had gone through previously prepared me for the beauty I got to live in for a while, then it was worth it. And, if this pain is the cost for what I had, it too is worth it, and I am grateful.