1-0

It is a great way to start the season. My beloved Horned Frogs have taken down a conference opponent and the Championship bound Sooners are rolling over their opponent of the day as well. While so many things in life change, the sound of football remains constant. Every fall I leave the television on whether I'm in the room or not for as long as there is a game on. The sound of football is like the occasional hymn sing, the sound of carolers at Christmas, waves at the beach. Now with streaming coverage, I get to at least listen to glorious victories of TCU wherever I am. The sound of football floods back memories of home and growing up. We watched (and even apart from each other) continue to watch copious amounts of football. My favorite year was my brother's senior year when I could watch him play on Friday night, college all day Saturday and the Cowboys on Sunday. There is comfort to me in the crashing of helmets and pads, whistles blowing, crowds cheering, the endless drone of announcers.

Change

I don't know if its the Obama folks or the on slot of people from high school 'friending' me on the lovely facebook because our 10 year high school reunion is next summer or my recent move across the country and the start of a new chapter in life that has me thinking about change. One of my high school friends that I'm ecstatic to be in contact with again somehow remembered one of my college entrance essays and asked me to email it to him recently. As it begins, "Toenail polish. My personality materializes through my toenail polish." I'll just let you imagine the rest without rehearsing the 18-year old brilliance ( :) ) of the toe nail polish essay here. (I did get accepted to that school, but did not attend) But it has me wondering how much have I changed in 10 years? There are obvious quantifiable ways and the general evolution of any person in 10 years. But in the deep essence of me, I think I might have really known myself better than I ever realized. The flow and argument of the essay reminds me more of how my brother's thoughts and arguments are organized then my own, which is a topic we should probably both write about another time. I will close with a few more lines from the essay, that I need to remember more now, then may be when I was at that formative 18, "I have a choice to make every second of my life. Choices in life vary from taking the next breath of air, what mood to be in to how to spend my life. The factor that sets me apart from everyone else is that I choose to be me and not anyone else."

Moving Out

I've moved in and out of my parent's house several times..well..at least my stuff has been in and out of their house and I'm around for a couple weeks here and there. Today is another move out. All the stuff..I don't know if the new place is big enough for all this stuff..I know the trailer is not. How does one come to own so much stuff? I've never had my own room at this house. The family moved after I left for college so a lot has been in boxes for years (almost 10). a lot is strewn all around. some has ventured its way to college station and is about to find its way north *couAlexgh*. I don't know what the big blog worthy pondering of this day is..but inside its weird. Its another marking of an end to transitional times. A moment of settling. All the belongings coming back together again. No more excuses for not doing my art b/c half of it is stored somewhere else. No more wishing I had this or that with me. No more packing up three suitcases, throwing them in the back of a truck and the move is over. I have 'stuff' again. Furniture that I own. I'm staying. In Texas. No plane trip to Berkeley for orientation next week...it'll just be another week like last week...

peeps

some folks I know recently let me feed my shutterbug taking pics of them..thought I'd share some favorites...

August? Protector? Romantic?

Where did July go and why did I start and end it with ranting? I did have quite a bit of fun in between. I also took a hiatus from all that was not absolutely necessary..which included blogging. Tonight I come with two happy ponderings.
I drove to Austin last week for my father's Birthday. We had a lot of fun celebrating him. On my way home as I emerged from a cluster of traffic into a 50 mile or so stretch that is pretty desolate there came the lights of a Semi a bit closer than comfort than comfort in my rear view mirror. I moved over and the truck pulled past and in front, then it changed speeds. I'm a cruise control type so I pulled around and sped up enough to put an appropriate distance so the trailers could go their speed and I mine. Then the Semi pulls up the left lane and slides in behind me. Closer than I normally would have liked but it was the Semi's choice so I just kept the cruise on and went about my way. Traveling about 68 down the road the two of us went. I will never know if that truck was using me to track speed, stalking or in its own way protecting. If I had stopped would they have? Would they have helped or hurt? I'm sad that I'd even have to worry. But for all purposes cliche maybe we each just needed somebody else by our side on that dark stretch of empty road. A moment of solidarity? When we reached Dallas the Semi went on East via I-20 and I went home..safe, sound, and thankful for my semi, always in my mind to have been a protector. In fact I missed that Semi on the last bit of my trek, like one misses friends who've stood so close and are now down a different road.

Second, I have a confession. I just finished..by choice (no teeny bopper cousin nor pack of youth group girls making me) watching Picture This! That's not really the confession, but in some way it is. The confession...I like the Cinderella story. Does anyone not? In so many forms, especially when it is well done (Ever After is a favorite version, second to the Disney cartoon). Tonight's version was fun, modern. All the way to the blue dress at the ball. I think this leads to a bigger problem...am I really a romantic? Deep, hiding somewhere? Is this the truth of me? A romantic?? seriously?