jumping on my bed

when was the last time you jumped on your bed? as a kid, i used to jump on my bed all the time . . . beds in hotel rooms were always the best. but the other day i starting jumping on my bed and to my surprise, at 24 years old, it was just as much fun as it was 15 years ago. i am taller so unfortunately i needed to think about hitting my head on the ceiling . . . even if i am 5'2". but the freeing, whimsical, and weightlessness i felt came at the perfect time. at this moment in my life there are all these questions and thoughts racing through my head and paths i could or couldn't take. the feelings of freedom, or joy, or pure fun of jumping on my bed helped me relieve any thoughts i shouldn't worry about. i will leave them to the air and come down on my nice fluffy bed.

a big wedding

i've never been much for big weddings. don't get me wrong i love to go to them and celebrate a marriage and dance and see people i haven't seen in awhile, but personally, i've always wanted something more private; however, this past weekend i celebrated my cousins wedding in eugene and praised the beautiful marriage they are to have. the best part of this big wedding was the fact everybody was there to celebrate the marriage. everyone "approved." everyone loves this couple and couldn't be happier. i can't help it but if, or when, i get married i want that celebration too. i want the people around me, WITHOUT a DOUBT, to approve of the marriage, to celebrate with joy and to acknowledge how great a couple we are.

there has been "friction" amidst my life between people i love and i don't know how to gain peace in this personal war. i think that is why my vacation went so well, there was peace and celebration for my cousin and her husbands success and i didn't have to worry about my own shortcomings.

grandpa

all things must pass . . . and this past weekend my family had to let my grandfather go. as a family, we sat around and reminisced about who he was. we talked about what he wore, his jobs, how he took care of his family, his carpentry skills, and all that he taught us throughout the years. we laughed, we cried, we dozed off in thought, and were together as a whole.
there was this moment . . . during the funeral we all took turns, one by one, scattering dirt on my grandfathers grave. the last person to scatter dirt was my grandmother. my uncle gathered some dirt in the shovel and passed it to my grandmother, whom for a minute, hesitated. bringing her hands clasped together to her mouth, she paused, not ready. she whispered "wait . . ." we were silent and watched her. she took the shovel, and with her four children, poured the dirt into the grave saying "goodbye howard, i can't wait to see you"

im reading this book and in it was a description of what prayer is and what meditation is. what it comes down to is meditation is listening. how often do we stop to listen? my instincts and my heart is how i make my choices. but in all actuality my thoughts override everything and i eventually become indecisive and undirected. what i really need is to listen and meditate and oh how i wonder how to do that. 

what im trying to say is i feel like i am waiting. i don't know what im waiting for or even whom im waiting for it seems ever since my strenuous trek to nursing school, i felt at least my road had a goal but now, im still waiting. i've found a great place for myself, i have a good job, a foot in the door kind of job, and i have family and friends around, and yet i feel like something is not right, something is missing. there have been definite times of prayer: asking, pleading, begging . . . but i never found or felt i heard anything because my thoughts drifted and worried. 

i just think i need to stop. i need to live in the moment and not think so much because it throws me off guard and it tosses and turns my head into loops. if i meditate on the moment, and revel in the second and let my thoughts disappear i think i would be more at peace. and i think thats all i want. 

tuesdays

tuesdays have always been a special day in the life of andrea. the reason being all new music comes out on tuesdays. there is no other day of the week where a new album is introduced to the public.
yesterday was tuesday june 2nd. as a reminder of this day, i placed a pink sticky note on my refrigerator as well as my bathroom mirror. i placed them strategically to be reminded of this day: dead center and eye level, which of course, almost all others would look down upon. what happened on june 2nd you ask?

Dave Matthews Band: Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King.

music helps me think. it provokes feelings, maybe some unnecessary ones, nonetheless, music makes me feel: my heart, my soul, my tears, my joy, my laughter, my spirit.

yesterday was a good day and even today, through work ups and downs, through good news and bad news, all i wanted to do was listen to my new music, because it would take me away from reality and allow me to let go. even for a moment.

so, i work at a long term care facility as a cna. i basically do the dirty work of the nurses, which includes, taking people to the bathroom, the shower, cleaning up "messes," dealing with people hacking up their food including a large variety of smells, so, funny story: (i would only tell my sister, but i do not feel ashamed typing it out)

i was putting one resident down for bed, let's call her tina. she spends 20 minutes in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and drinking cups and cups of water. she has an extreme personality, one which needs patience and love and is legally blind and can only see anything one inch from her face. so i finally get her into her bed and well, much to my embarrasment, i let out a silent fart. tina has a very keen sense of smell, which i was reminded of when she said "oh my goodness what is that smell? who did that?" you should have heard the disgust. please forgive me when i tell you i blamed it on her roommate. no joke. i feel terrible, but 98% of the time, it would have been her roomate. tina went on for about 2 minutes on how badly it smelled and how of course it was her roommate and not me, only her roommate could have let out that stench!
she finally exclaimed "oh my gosh! what did that woman eat!!!" and i do wonder, what i did eat.

ode to friends

dear friends . . . i have come to the realization i have been a poor friend to some. and i have to admit, with much embarrassment, i have no excuse. i hope you forgive me. but please, remember, there are a couple friends, one in particular, with whom i will always think about and care about even when we are both on our own, traveling, studying, working etc. remember "peace, love and flower power." and please, please, forgive me.